OATH OF THE SURVIVOR

©2025 JAMES MEYER

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Also In Series

Oath of the Survivor

Book One

Book Two

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Chapter 1

“Say what you want. I don’t like it.” The old man huffed, crossing his arms. Kyle smiled to himself at his grandfather’s gruff tone. He had always been a strong critic of the Central Authority’s methods, and it was no surprise to hear this kind of response.

“I’ve got a couple of great options, and I know they’ll pay me well for the right selection. Rowan, in surgery, got a 15 percent pay bump and an extra week of vacation this past Tuesday when they finished their analysis for him. I’m at least as talented as he is, and with some extra vacation time, we could go on another trip or two before…” Kyle tapered off, still adjusting to the reality that his grandfather only had two, maybe three, years left.

Picking up on his grandson’s discomfort, Clark gently placed his hand on Kyle’s shoulder and met his eyes.

“Before I die. Kyle, I came to terms with death well over a century ago. I’ve fought for my life alongside the Originators more times than I can count. I have seen and done things I never could have imagined as a young man. And while an extra trip together would be an incredible blessing, the most important thing to me is that you have a secure and established future. Selling your skills for some extra benefits from a pencil pusher who’s never had to accomplish anything with their life is just… wrong.”

Some heat had returned to Clark’s voice, and Kyle knew it was time to shift the subject. If there’s one thing Clark could do, it was vent about the government. Kyle looked into his grandfather’s deep green eyes and smiled.

“I’ll think about it. Now enough dawdling; let’s get on with your checkup. C.H.A.D.D.?”

The Central Health Automated Diagnostic Drone, referred to as C.H.A.D.D., floated over from the corner of the room.

[YES, DR. MAYHEW?]

“Pull up the chart from the December 13th visit. I want to refamiliarize myself before we jump in.”

C.H.A.D.D. hummed briefly before projecting a holographic model of Clark, notes appearing along the sides. Kyle had expected it, but even so, the brilliance of the projection made him shield his eyes.

[CLARK MAYHEW. ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SIX YEARS OLD. HUMAN, D GRADE. HIGH PROFICIENCY MANA PROJECTION. SEVERE SCARRING SURROUNDING LUNGS AND LIVER, HEART FUNCTION DETERIORATING. MISSING LEFT KIDNEY AND PORTION OF LARGE INTESTINE DUE TO INJURY DURING INTEGRATION. SCARRING ALONG THE SPINAL COLUMN…]

C.H.A.D.D. went on like this for some time as Kyle refamiliarized himself with his grandfather’s endless list of injuries. He looked at the model of Clark, the scars crossing his body the reminder of the price his generation paid for the peace they now enjoyed. Clark was the last remaining D Grade human on Earth, and the sheer amount of mana the projection illustrated was staggering. Clark’s body looked like that of a worn old man, but even these simple diagnostic scans showed that he was anything but.

Clark had survived a perpetual warzone after the awakening, and the condition of his body illustrated exactly what it cost to get that powerful. As he looked over his grandfather’s leathery skin and myriad scars, Kyle came to the same conclusion: peace and weakness were significantly better alternatives to strife and power.

Satisfied with his review, he turned to the small floating drone. “C.H.A.D.D., please run a full diagnostic.” The drone floated past Clark’s bushy white beard to rest even with the top of his head and slowly floated around him, the panels lighting up as they absorbed ambient mana to replace the energy used to move and diagnose. The drone finished its tour around Clark’s body and highlighted three points in his torso.

[DIAGNOSIS COMPLETE. SMALL TEARS OPENED UP NEAR AORTA AND LEFT VENTRICLE. ADDITIONAL DAMAGE NOTED NEAR LIVER.] While Kyle knew he wouldn’t be able to fix all the accumulated damage his grandfather had taken over the years, this news at least put a smile on his face. These injuries were minor and in challenging locations, but as a newly minted Level 20 Healer, he knew this was well within his scope.

Kyle closed his eyes and entered a brief meditative state, looking inward toward his core. He reviewed the sight he had seen earlier and the three new skills available: Regeneration, Bioweb, and Microsuture. He had focused a lot on precise internal medicine over the last couple of years, and it had paid off with two skills at Level 20 that would let him further specialize. He considered taking Microsuture right then to reinforce the precise healing he would administer but decided to wait. While he thought that would be the preferred route, he’d still leave it to his supervisors.

Instead, Kyle allowed his mana to flow into his hand as he gently placed it on his grandfather’s chest, then manipulated it as it flowed out from him in a small regenerative wave. Slowly, C.H.A.D.D.’s sensors indicated the tears had been repaired, at least for now. Satisfied that he’d at least done what he could, he looked up from the drone’s display to see Clark looking out the window with wide eyes. He turned quickly toward Kyle and wrapped his arms around him as the ground shook and the world went black.

Earlier, Clark looked on with pride as his grandson went to work, analyzing the image projected by the little drone. All day he’d felt a strange sense of unease, and seeing his grandson in his element greatly calmed him. He could have received medical care anywhere in the world, but he still chose this small western frontier town to visit Kyle.

His grandson struck an impressive figure, even in his scrubs. He had an athletic build, something only accentuated by the mana that flowed through him. His dark hair was cut neatly, and Clark couldn’t help but feel like he was looking in a mirror every time he saw Kyle’s forest-green eyes.

The medical services available at Kyle’s clinic weren’t as robust as those in the larger cities, but it also gave him an excuse to get out and spend some time in the wilderness. He missed the days of being able to take Kyle with him on a whim, but seeing the young man engage with his patients and the excitement in his eyes when he talked about his work made it more than worth it.

That soured a bit when he thought again about Kyle discussing his next skill choices. He was still frustrated by the Central Authority’s control over these young minds—the Originators wanted peace for their loved ones, but Clark couldn’t help but think that they’d disagree with the methods currently in place as much as he did. After all, they left the planet to pursue their paths, despite the dangers and conflicts they’d encounter.

He was the only D Grade who decided to stay, and despite his misgivings, he couldn’t help but admit that he had also enjoyed peace. He watched his children grow old, watched their children blossom into fine young adults, and had the opportunity to experience nature alongside them without the threat of a life-or-death struggle. He looked out the window as Kyle began his healing administrations, feeling his grandson manipulate the threads of healing mana through his torso.

The mountains in the east were easy to see beyond the small city, despite the growth Newton had experienced over the last several years. It served as a meaningful reminder of what had been accomplished despite the odds and that the resilience and adaptability of humanity was something not to be underestimated.

Suddenly, a glimmer in the sky above the mountains caught his eye. He saw what looked like small, shimmering comets appearing above the city, then a series of blasts lighting up the horizon. The cloud of dust from the explosions rapidly approached the city, already beginning to cover the outskirts, before his instincts kicked in.

He projected his mana around the room and activated Proud Bulwark to provide an outer barrier of defense. He then grabbed Kyle and activated Ironskin to bolster his resilience and put himself between Kyle and what would soon be a collapsing building. Lastly, he manipulated the projected mana with Cloudform to soften the area around them as much as possible. The wave of destruction hit the building, and everything devolved into chaos as they fell into the rubble.

Kyle woke up with his body screaming in pain, feeling like he had just been hit by a bus. He couldn’t remember what had happened, but as he looked around, pieces started to crystalize in his mind. He had been with his grandfather for a routine appointment when… when… Kyle stopped. He saw a small circle around his position that was relatively undamaged, but around him was absolute devastation.

They had been on the third floor of the clinic, and he could see what remained of the seventh floor strewn just a stone’s throw away. Kyle whipped his head around as he realized that something had gone wrong, only to instantly regret that decision as a sharp pain stabbed through the back of his head. Almost instinctively, he muttered to himself.

“Damage to the skull, possible concussion? What other injuries could…”

A rustling nearby broke his chain of thought as a question chimed out from under some nearby rubble.

[ATTEMPTING TO DIAGNOSE DR. MAYHEW. ERROR. UNIT HOUSING BLOCKAGE. TROUBLESHOOTING… ERROR. DISCONNECTED FROM WALL HOUSING. DIAGNOSING… ERROR. UNIT HOUSING BLOCKAGE…]

Kyle limped toward the sound as a large piece of rubble shifted, then saw Clark moving it with his one remaining arm. Kyle went pale as he saw his grandfather. He had a long gash across his forehead that bled freely and appeared to be missing an eye. His beard was matted with blood, and his torso was covered in cuts and bruises.

Kyle got to his side as quickly as he could, his body moving on its own. It couldn’t be. They were supposed to have years yet. He had so many more things he wanted to learn from Clark. So many more places to go and memories to be made. But as he poured healing energy into his grandfather, he knew it was too late. This kind of healing was just too far beyond Kyle’s ability to fix. Clark looked up at him and smiled.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. The barrier held up against most of… whatever this is. But I had to throw you out of the way of the last falling pieces.” Clark seemed about to say more before a wet cough interrupted him.

“Save your energy; I’ll get us help. Just don’t move, don’t talk. We’ll figure something out.” Kyle was talking faster and faster as he grew increasingly frantic, his words broken by sobs. Surely there was something, anything, he could do.

Maybe if he—a scarred, leathery hand tousled Kyle’s hair.

“We both know it’s my time. Kyle, I want you to know that I’m so, so proud of you. Seeing you grow up has been one of the great joys of this old man’s life. Know how much I love…”

Another coughing fit interrupted him briefly, but Clark continued.

“I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what’s going to happen. But whatever it is, the world will need bright young people like you to make sense of it. The life of an old codger past his prime for a young doctor seems like a good trade to me.”

Kyle was holding his grandfather tight, tears streaming down his face.

“I know this isn’t fair of me to ask, and I hoped you’d never have to live this kind of life. Kyle, whatever is out there, whatever’s going on… survive.”

With that, the hand dropped from Kyle’s head, lifeless. Clark Mayhew, the most powerful man on the planet, was gone.

Chapter 2

It felt like an eternity that Kyle was kneeling there, his grandfather’s body cradled in his arms. It all felt so… surreal. The old man was as tough as they came, and Kyle wasn’t prepared for the wave of emotions that assaulted him. To lose a patient was rare, and while there was no healing for the ravages of time, he couldn’t help but think if anybody could have made it through, it would have been his grandfather. The silence was eerie, punctuated only by the occasional rubble cracking and falling. As he knelt, a battered drone floated up and around him.

[PATIENT CLARK MAYHEW—DECEASED. TIME OF DEATH – 10:17 AM, OCTOBER 9TH, 2252. CAUSE OF DEATH—BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA, BLOOD LOSS, HEART FAILURE, MANA OVERLOAD. UPLOADING TO CENTRAL HEALTH RECORDS. ERROR, NETWORK CONNECTION LOST. RESUBMITTING… ERROR, NETWORK CONNECTION LOST. RUNNING DIAGNOSTICS… NETWORK CONNECTIVITY ERROR IDENTIFIED. MOST RECENT NETWORK CONNECTION WAS INTERRUPTED AT 10:14AM. DR. MAYHEW ADVISE, ATTEMPT RECONNECTION?]

As odd as it was, this mundane network connectivity message snapped Kyle out of his stupor. “C.H.A.D.D., what was the time of the network connectivity drop?”

[10:14 AM,] the drone responded.

“What time did… this happen?” He knew it was a dumb question, but he wasn’t sure how to phrase it in a way the drone would process. Surprisingly, the drone had a quick answer.

[CATACLYSMIC EVENT IDENTIFIED AT 10:12 AM. DISRUPTION OF MANA NETWORK ENSUED, RECONNECTED AT 10:13 AM. 

CONNECTION LOST AT 10:14 AM, YET TO BE REESTABLISHED.]

Kyle paused momentarily to consider the implications, but it made sense. 

Just because this area was in ruins didn’t mean the entire planet was destroyed. Kyle surveyed the rubble around him and once again took in the scene of destruction.

Buildings had been blown off their foundations, the ground littered with debris spreading west from what he assumed was the center of the explosions. The developing city skyline was gone, and the mountains that had dominated the horizon had been broken and changed. The sky was darkened by dust particles in the air, and the mana his body passively drew in felt… different somehow.

“C.H.A.D.D., do you have any captures or messages from the last moments of connection?”

[YES, DR. MAYHEW. EMERGENCY NOTICES FROM CENTRAL HEALTH BRANCHES TO THE WEST APPEARED TO BE MID-TRANSMISSION BY THE TIME THE MANA NETWORK HERE WAS DISRUPTED.]

That would track with Kyle’s observations. The farther east he looked, the more significant the destruction. 

While he was still getting his bearings, it was clear that going that direction would be unwise.

[DR. MAYHEW ADVISE, ATTEMPT RECONNECTION TO UPLOAD DEATH NOTICE?] Again, C.H.A.D.D.’s question brought Kyle back to reality. His grandfather’s body was still nearby, and he was alone. 

Clark’s last words repeated in his head, and he made a decision.

“C.H.A.D.D., attempt a reconnection and upload every ten minutes. Note any connections that come through and try to send an emergency signal before uploading the death notice.

[DR. MAYHEW, THERE IS CURRENTLY NO MEDICAL EMERGENCY. THE PATIENT HAS DIED…] the drone began, but Kyle snapped back.

“C.H.A.D.D., this is an exceptional circumstance. This isn’t an operating room emergency or call light. Please broadcast as soon as you can connect.”

[UNDERSTOOD, DR. MAYHEW.]

Several hours later, Kyle stood before a pile of rubble and stone. He wished he could do more, but this was the best burial he could give. Kyle ached all over but knew he wouldn’t have been able to do what came next if he didn’t at least do this. Teardrops hit the ground, and he felt a deep hurt in his chest.

A lifetime of smiles, laughter, and care ran through his mind as he looked at the makeshift cairn. Thank you for everything. It was all he could muster before turning and walking away. C.H.A.D.D. followed him, and finally, Kyle composed himself enough to ask:

“C.H.A.D.D., I know the main network is down; can you detect any active devices using a local connection?” C.H.A.D.D. hovered in the air before responding.

[YES, DR. MAYHEW. CAFETERIA WALK-IN AND OVERFLOW MEDICAL SUPPLY PROGRAMS STILL FUNCTIONAL.]

On one side, Kyle couldn’t believe his luck that both units were operational. On the other, it meant that the rest of the clinic’s myriad programs were now non-functional, likely entirely destroyed by the blast. Kyle made his way to where C.H.A.D.D. indicated the programs were broadcasting. On the way, he tried to ignore the bodies of fallen colleagues and patients. He knew it was a miracle that he survived the blast, thanks to the D Grade shield surrounding him.

Seeing those who didn’t share that protection… wasn’t pretty. Kyle made it to a twisted heap of metal and concrete that C.H.A.D.D. indicated was the entrance to the walk-in storage for the cafeteria and began looking around for a way in. Unable to see much and afraid of accidentally collapsing what was there, Kyle had an idea.

“C.H.A.D.D., can you scan and provide a diagnostic of the area in front of us?” C.H.A.D.D. paused for a moment to process the request before responding.

[THAT IS POSSIBLE. PROCESSING…]

Moments later, C.H.A.D.D. projected a scan of the rubble. From there, it was a matter of effort to move the pieces that he could, and before long, he could get to the storage area door. 

He flashed his credentials, and the door slid open about halfway before jamming, leaving just enough space for Kyle to get in. It was a utilitarian room with no decoration, with a significant portion of it collapsed. 

Fortunately for Kyle, he spotted a few shelves still standing and intact, mostly packed with loaves of bread, prepacked crisps, and various breakfast bars.

He began collecting what he could, leaving most of the bread that would spoil in favor of the sealed, packaged food. As the pile outside the rubble grew, Kyle realized quickly that he would need something to carry the food. Looking around the room, he saw some towels and aprons in one of the corners and grabbed them.

As he did so, he looked down at his scrubs, still covered in his grandfather’s blood. He shuddered involuntarily before looking away, turning his attention to the towels. 

He tied several at the corners to make rough cloth bags, put what he could inside, and tied them off. 

It wasn’t perfect, but it would do. 

The medical supplies were housed on the opposite side of the building, and unsurprisingly, there was debris to navigate through the door. The process repeated, with C.H.A.D.D. scanning and Kyle moving objects where he could to clear a path. They weren’t as fortunate with this room. When Kyle scanned his credentials, the door barely opened far enough for Kyle to get through, with most of the room completely collapsed.

Instead of having access to a wide variety of medical supplies, Kyle could only grab a small first-aid kit just inside the door, as well as two sets of fresh scrubs, one of which he quickly put on. It wasn’t everything he had planned on, but it was something. Kyle hoped that as he moved farther away from the center of the destruction, he’d find others who survived.

Looking at his bundles of food and small first aid kit, he felt a pit of despair growing in his stomach. He had often gone camping with his grandfather, even investing some of his attribute points into Endurance and Vitality to keep up a little better. However, this was still far beyond anything he’d thought about. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take a deep breath. He had to treat this clinically, just like he would treat a patient brought into the emergency room. Step one of emergency triage—gather information as thoroughly and quickly as possible.

“C.H.A.D.D., have you had any success reconnecting to the network?”

[NO, DR. MAYHEW.]

“Can you tell in what direction the most recent uploads came from before the connection dropped?”

[MOST RECENT UPLOADS FROM CENTRAL HEALTH CORWYN, NIERBURG, PROST.]

That confirmed a lot of what Kyle expected; all of those hospitals were west. Unfortunately, it also confirmed his fear—while these cities were west, they were hundreds of kilometers away. 

Whatever had happened knocked out a lot more than he’d thought.

Stay focused. Next question. “C.H.A.D.D., do you have any saved map overlays or other data?”

[DATA FOR AMBULATORY TRANSPORT IS ON FILE. WOULD YOU LIKE TO CALL AN AMBULANCE?]

“No, C.H.A.D.D., please don’t call for an ambulance.”

[EXCELLENT, UNABLE TO CALL AMBULANCE WITHOUT MANA NETWORK CONNECTION.]

“Then why did you offer?” Kyle sighed with exasperation. “Can you project ambulance routes between here and Central Health Nierburg?”

[WOULD YOU LIKE TO CALL AN AMBULANCE? AMBULATORY TRANSPORT DATA CANNOT BE ACCESSED WITHOUT AN EMERGENCY REQUIRING AN AMBULANCE.]

Kyle was about to throw the drone into a wall. “C.H.A.D.D., I am the ambulance! The network just isn’t working. Please just project the route.” This appeared to satisfy the little drone, which used its projection to show the routes an ambulance would take from their current position to the hospital in Nierburg. Kyle understood this would be less reliable the farther they went, but it at least pointed them in the right direction.

Step two of emergency triage—analyze the information you have and make a decision. Kyle, unfortunately, knew precious little. Something had destroyed the hospital and most of Newton. Whatever it was, it disrupted the ambient mana connections that flowed between cities. Kyle was the only survivor in this area that he had seen. He had maybe two weeks of food and some fundamental medical supplies. Hiking to the nearest cities would take weeks at least, and there was no guarantee that they fared any better than Newton had. 

Still, with this information, the decision was clear: head away from the center of the blast. No matter what happened, Kyle’s odds of finding other survivors increased if he got away from this area.

Kyle took a deep breath and affirmed his decision—if he was going to survive, he would have to leave. His whole body ached. His mind was still numb. Yet he dragged himself to his feet and started moving. “C.H.A.D.D., are you able to leave the hospital grounds?” The little drone floated silently for a moment before replying.

[NO ANCHORING PROGRAM DETECTED; GPS OFFLINE. THIS UNIT IS CURRENTLY UNRESTRICTED.] Kyle breathed a sigh of relief; at least this resource was still available.

“Please come with me, C.H.A.D.D.” The drone floated alongside as they departed, leaving the ruins of their home behind them.

Chapter 3

Kyle hadn’t made it very far before he realized something was wrong—very wrong. 

As an E Grade human, his body was as strong as a top-tier athlete’s, even with his class specializing in mana manipulation. He had attributed his exhaustion and pain to a lingering effect of surviving the blast and the grief of losing his grandfather. Still, just a couple hours later, he felt his body’s condition continuing to deteriorate. He should have been able to maintain a walking pace like this for the bulk of the day with no adverse effects, so this was deeply concerning.

“C.H.A.D.D., can you run a diagnostic on me? Something is… wrong.”

[CERTAINLY DR. MAYHEW. CENTRAL HEALTH POLICY IS TO REMIND YOU THAT ANY PRESCRIPTIONS MUST BE AUTHORIZED BY A THIRD-PARTY PHYSICIAN, HEALER, OR ALCHEMIST. THE DIAGNOSTIC RESULTS MAY BE SHARED WITH CENTRAL HEALTH MANAGEMENT AND THE CENTRAL AUTHORITY IF ILLICIT SUBSTANCES ARE DETECTED…]

C.H.A.D.D. chattered on for another minute, sharing all the disclaimers and possible repercussions of physicians using their diagnoses to access potent pharmaceuticals. Eventually, the drone finished and began scanning Kyle. Moments later, with a hum, C.H.A.D.D. projected an image of Kyle’s body. 

Average height, fit, short brown hair. Kyle was what most would consider average-looking. He had olive skin and sharp features. It wasn’t his appearance that gave him pause, though; it was the mapping of his mana pathways.

What would typically reflect a steady flow of mana circulating throughout his body instead showed chaotic torrents that ebbed and flowed in random sequence, causing minor but consistent damage to his body. This slow wear and tear throughout his system was draining him, and he recognized quickly that, in this condition, he wouldn’t be able to make it more than a few days.

He used his Heal ability on himself, but it was far from an effective solution. The skill worked by manipulating his mana to encourage regenerative effects within an area of the body. While it was effective at what it did and could be used effectively against localized trauma, it was simply too costly to be used simultaneously across the entire body. 

Not seeing another option, Kyle sat on the ground, crossed his legs, and entered meditation.

In his mind’s eye, he saw a void with an outline of his shape in the center. 

Within the shape, he saw a small network of bright spots where his navel would be, all encompassed in a larger circle. 

From there, seven “arms” branched out, spinning in a lazy circle. Perpetually moving, these arms were a representation of the seven fundamental attributes. Vitality, Endurance, Strength, Dexterity, Intelligence, Willpower, and Perception. 

This was the center of his mana cultivation, and as he focused on it, the motes of light became clearer. 

On the circle’s interior, he focused on the bright spot in the center, and words entered his mind.

KYLE MAYHEW. HUMAN, HEALER. LEVEL 20

From the major central point, he saw a well-defined pattern emerging off to one side, which he knew represented his Heal skill. 

Just beyond that, he saw three indistinct gray orbs. There were the skills he was so proud of unlocking just the day before. However, given his circumstances, the countless hours he’d spent studying to gain these choices were wasted. Sighing, he dismissed Microsuture and Bioweb.

These skills would have assured a substantial raise and a position in a much more specialized part of the medical field, but if he was going to survive, he would need to keep his body in one piece. It wasn’t an exciting skill, nor a skill he had even considered given his other options, but now Kyle saw that it was the perfect skill to help him handle the constant damage to his body. Feeling modestly comforted, Kyle focused on the third orb and willed the surrounding motes of mana to infuse it. Regeneration was learned, and Kyle instantly activated his skill. Even though he was in his center, he felt a gentle soothing across his body as mana was converted to rejuvenating energy.

The mana cost was relatively low, even sustained, but the healing would more than compensate for the damage caused by the chaotic mana in the air. 

It would be much less effective in treating acute injuries, but it was the perfect solution to counteract the slow, deteriorating effects of the unregulated mana. Satisfied that his body’s condition would improve, Kyle shifted his focus to the arms swirling around his center, representing the seven attributes bolstered by his cultivation. While he observed their perpetual rotation, he received an impression of his current progress:

VITALITY: 29

ENDURANCE: 29

STRENGTH: 23

DEXTERITY: 25

WILLPOWER: 55

INTELLIGENCE: 75

PERCEPTION: 60

FREE ATTRIBUTES: 4

Kyle paused to reflect on his current progress. Humans grew well-rounded, but the Healer class focused on the mental attributes to the exclusion of the physical. His high Intelligence let him manipulate mana with fine control, while his Willpower allowed him to move quantities. Over the last couple of years, he had invested virtually all of his free attribute points into Perception to assist with his goal of precise internal medicine. Still, at this juncture, none of those attributes seemed like they’d give him much of an advantage in the here and now.

He thought about Strength and Dexterity but quickly dismissed them. 

They would help him move heavier objects and his body more nimbly, but that was hardly a primary concern at this point. He settled on splitting his four remaining free attributes between Vitality and Endurance. 

Improving his vital energy would help his natural recovery and take some strain off the Regeneration skill, while the investment in Endurance would improve his overall toughness. He had few enough points in each that two points invested would still be a meaningful difference, and Kyle felt confident that once he was past his current trials, his primary attributes as a Healer wouldn’t be in danger of lagging behind. He watched the remaining motes of light flow into two of the rotating arms and then slowly drew himself out of meditation.

Kyle opened his eyes and nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw C.H.A.D.D. hovering barely an inch away from his face.

[DR. MAYHEW, YOU ASKED TO BE KEPT INFORMED IF A NETWORK CONNECTION WAS ESTABLISHED?] Excitement quickly replaced surprise. 

“Yes, did you find a connection? With which branch? What do the recent reports say?”

[UNKNOWN. AT THIS TIME, THERE HAVE BEEN NO NETWORK CONNECTIONS ESTABLISHED. THIS UNIT WAS SIMPLY CONFIRMING STANDING INSTRUCTION.] 

Kyle blinked, disappointed and more than a little confused.

“C.H.A.D.D., how are your systems holding up?”

Kyle realized as he asked that these drones run on ambient mana and that C.H.A.D.D. was likely taking internal damage similar to him.

C.H.A.D.D. floated silently for a long minute before responding.

[DIAGNOSTIC COMPLETE. PROCESSING POWER AT 86%. DATABASE ACCESS FUNCTIONAL. CORE FUNCTION AT 93%. MOBILITY FUNCTION AT 78%.]

Kyle was at least encouraged that the drone was operational for now, but did give it one more request.

“C.H.A.D.D., run a diagnostic on yourself every twenty-four hours and give me a report of your core functions and the previous log. I want to be kept informed of your condition.”

[YES, DR. MAYHEW.]

Victor DeRosa was having a bad day. He sighed as he looked at the sandwiches on his plate and the tiny edges of crust left on the bread. As if it weren’t bad enough that the blasted world was ending, his assistant S.T.I.L.L. couldn’t manage to make him a crustless sandwich. With resignation, Victor took a small knife and cleaned up the cuts. 

Two perfect triangles of bread with a creamy nut spread and fruit preserves. Victor took a bite, grimacing at the ratio. No, this assistant simply wouldn’t do.

It was unfortunate he had to fire the last one two months back—but embezzlement couldn’t be tolerated, even if the sandwiches were simply divine. He finished his meal and settled into his chair as he thought about the next steps. 

The capital in Cathwick was gone, and communication had yet to be established with any other large cities. He had a team of mages that had erected a barrier to keep the harmful mana out, but at the current rate, it would be months before the mana network could be reestablished and running in a meaningful way. 

As the third in command of the Central Authority, he had prepared to eventually have to run the show—he just hadn’t anticipated an event like this. 

Still, there was room to improve efficiency, and he knew he’d be up to the task—saving the world one small step at a time. He looked in the mirror and spotted some crumbs in his otherwise perfectly trimmed beard—a streak of silver in the long dark hair. Victor quickly brushed them away and into the trash, looking out at his city. Nierburg survived better than he or anybody expected. And he would ensure that, out of the ashes of this tragedy, a new and better Central Authority would rise.

Chapter 4

Kyle wiped the sweat off of his forehead as he crested the ruins of a fallen building. He and C.H.A.D.D. had been traveling for a couple of days and were now near the far edge of Newton. While they were still a long way from getting to Nierburg, he felt that they were making good time. Unfortunately, their travels had been incredibly quiet, finding no additional survivors as they went. There were… a lot of bodies. People were strewn across the streets, animals both in the cities and along the road having fared no better. They hadn’t tried to sift through rubble to further explore, but C.H.A.D.D.’s scanners didn’t pick up any signs of life.

Kyle had seen enough death in their short time traveling that he was in no hurry to find more beneath the stones. The only stops they made regularly were in small convenience stores, picking up clean water where they could and replenishing the stores of food before they left the city limits. They got particularly lucky in one such store, coming across a dented but otherwise unopened can of lighter fluid and a book of matches. These were rare anymore, as most kitchens had mana-powered cooking ranges, but being on the frontier, there were enough people living in Newton who still liked to camp in the old world way.

Kyle looked out over the horizon, the mountain range he’d grown so accustomed to seeing now barely visible at the edge of his vision. He remembered time spent outdoors with his grandfather and watching the crazy old man scale sheer cliff faces like they were nothing, dreaming of one day being able to catch up. It felt so… recent. So real. Memories from well over a decade ago caused pangs of longing and grief for what he had lost. His parents lived east, hundreds of kilometers away from the city he and Clark had called home these last seven years.

He hoped his parents might have made it despite the odds, but he had seen enough destruction even this far away from the blast to know that hope was likely misplaced. For a brief moment, grief threatened to overwhelm him, but his grandfather’s final exhortation and his training took over. He knew he’d have time to grieve when he got to safety, but for now, he needed to stay focused. Kyle closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and took inventory of his situation.

Step one, gather information. Kyle evaluated his supplies, and while he had plenty of food for a while, he knew it wouldn’t make the whole trip. Water, on the other hand, was much scarcer. Frankly, this was going to be his biggest challenge, and he wondered idly if Regeneration and Heal would be enough to help deal with the effects of drinking unpurified water. He filed that away as a top priority as he continued thinking about his circumstances.

Physically, Kyle was doing much better than expected. His Regeneration ability had all but negated the impact of the chaotic mana on his body, and as an unexpected benefit, he had gained levels rapidly as he used his new ability to heal in a way that he hadn’t before. Just this morning, he had crossed to Level 23, and he felt confident that even if his pace of leveling slowed, he’d still be likely to grow to Level 30 or beyond. With another skill likely to appear at Level 40, Kyle felt confident that he’d still be able to gain a skill that would secure him a better position as humanity rebuilt.

Idly, the thought crossed his mind that if he hit Level 40 he’d be one of the premier Healers throughout the entirety of the Central Health Organization, a realization that brought him back to focus. Kyle had grown more in the past week of surviving this wasteland than many healers grew in five years. It was rare for anybody to progress their profession past Level 30 anymore, and yet Kyle was rapidly approaching the bottleneck that would stop most people.

He thought about his grandfather, the last remaining D Grade human on the planet. The stories he’d heard, the scars of the tribulations that he carried with him even into his old age. Clark didn’t live an easy life, but the fruits of struggle and tribulation were plain to see. The easy, comfortable life that Kyle and so many others had been living wasn’t a path to level progression. If he made it out, Kyle resolved he'd write a paper on mana system theory with this as evidence. The Central Authority always made it a point that they understood and prescribed the path to highly efficient mana cultivation, but given that he’d leveled more in a scant few days than he had in the previous six months, there was no doubt in his mind that they were overstating the effectiveness of their methods.

He snapped back to focus when he heard a rustling sound nearby. His first thought was that C.H.A.D.D. had floated off somewhere, but he saw the drone floating lazily by his side. He looked for the source of the rustling sound but wasn’t able to pinpoint it.

“C.H.A.D.D., can you scan the area? I hear something; maybe it’s a survivor!”

Without waiting for the reply, Kyle called out.

“Hello! If anybody’s trapped here don’t worry, I’ll do my best to help you! Help me find you!”

Kyle heard the rustling sound intensify, and suddenly, from behind some broken rocks, a beetle the size of a large dog charged forward and knocked him off his feet.

“What the hell is this?”

Kyle screamed in surprise, barely managing to toss the beetle off his body and regaining his feet before it charged him again, mandibles chattering.

[DIAGNOSIS COMPLETE. IT IS A LARGE BUG, DR. MAYHEW.]

Kyle turned to look at the drone, bewildered.

“That’s not a helpful diagnosis at… AAAAHHH!” Kyle was cut short as the beetle took advantage of the distraction, fluttering toward him and latching onto Kyle’s arm with its powerful jaws. Blood flowed freely from Kyle’s arm, and he immediately began to panic. On the list of things he’d expected to have to handle, Doberman-sized beetles out for blood hadn’t even crossed his mind. He was in pain, still taken by surprise, and felt way out of his element. The beetle released his arm, and Kyle fell backward.

The beetle scurried toward him again, its shiny black shell gleaming in the light as it made for his face, mandibles open. Kyle barely managed to interpose his wounded arm again, taking a second set of deep cuts. I could die here, Kyle thought to himself. I could really die here. That cold realization struck him, and in a moment, his internal turmoil turned into an eerie calm as chills broke out across his body. No.

Kyle focused on the beetle, its legs ineffectually clawing at his chest, trying to get a better grip to keep biting. I am not going to get eaten by a damn bug. The beetle flapped its wings in an attempt to push toward Kyle’s face. I did not make it this far to DIE TO A TWICE-DAMNED BUG!!!! Kyle felt adrenaline course through his body as a snarl escaped his lips. He had fought so hard, buried so much, worked tirelessly to stay clinical and rational since his grandfather died.

He leaned forward, the creature’s mandibles digging deeper into his left arm. With his right, he reached across to the beetle’s back and ripped off one of its gossamer wings. The insect reeled backward in surprise at the movement, releasing its grip on Kyle’s arm. The snarl grew into a roar as Kyle grabbed the beetle’s head, turned, and smashed it into the side of what used to be an apartment building. His rage growing, Kyle smashed the beetle against the same block of concrete again and again, ichor running down his arms and mixing with his blood.

Kyle dropped the beetle, exhausted. It lay motionless on the ground, and Kyle slumped down next to it, weeping bitterly. His family was dead. His coworkers were dead. His life, his apartment, everything he’d worked for meant nothing in the face of this new reality. The pain of his losses, the staggering weight of his solitude collapsed on him with all the force of a falling star.

[DR. MAYHEW, YOU HAVE TAKEN SEVERAL SEVERE LACERATIONS ON YOUR LEFT ARM AND FURTHER DAMAGE ACROSS YOUR CHEST. LACERATIONS ARE RUNNING FROM YOUR RIGHT CLAVICLE TO YOUR FLOATING RIBS. HEALING ADVISED WITHIN THE NEXT SEVEN MINUTES TO PREVENT PERMANENT DAMAGE].

Kyle, still sobbing, was stirred as he heard the message from his little drone. That was something he had trained for day in and day out—listen to the diagnostic and take action. He wasn’t okay; he knew he was a long way from it.

The psychological trauma of what he’d been through wasn’t something one could just use mana to heal away. But enough of the grief had passed that he was able to slip into the old routine. He looked at his mangled forearm and used Heal to begin treatment. Surprisingly, the wounds were somehow… resisting his ministrations. He doubled his focus and felt a foreign energy present within the wounds. It wasn’t a toxin or bacteria, but it was as if the chaotic energy in the air had somehow entered the wound through the beetle’s bites.

Still, Kyle’s focus on Intelligence and Willpower prevailed. It took much longer than anticipated, but within the hour, Kyle’s body was back in near-top form. For the first time since the battle, Kyle looked at the beetle. Its head had been crushed against the wall, but the body itself seemed relatively intact, with the exception of the wing he’d ripped off. Looking at its powerful legs and robust body, he had a thought.

“C.H.A.D.D., can you tell if this thing is poisonous?”

Chapter 5

Poisonous? Fortunately, no. Tasty? A resounding “no.” Kyle looked at the meat he had harvested from the beetle and grimaced. C.H.A.D.D. had confirmed that the meat wasn’t poisonous and was actually fairly nutritionally dense. This was a beetle that had somehow mutated due to exposure to foreign energy and ascended into the early E Grade. The meat was free of contaminants and toxins and was quite high in protein, a resource Kyle knew he would need plenty of in the days ahead.

He was running low on the energy bars he had looted over a week ago, and while the crisps were a good source of calories, the lack of protein in his diet would cause his body to start eating away at his muscles as he continued his journey. It wouldn’t be immediate, but without replenishing, it would be inevitable. Kyle looked at the small scalpel in his hand, retrieved from the first aid kit. The last thing he thought he would use it for was as a replacement chef’s knife, but he was glad the first aid kit included it. He looked over his admittedly amateurish butchering of the beetle, the four remaining upper segments of the leg and a few smaller pieces of the thorax, which he wrapped in the remaining wing of the beetle and put in his sack. All in all, about six pounds of meat—this would get him through for a while. Even if the flavor was terrible, food was food. Kyle felt satisfied that he was able to make use of the beetle, but knew he would need to find some solutions to cook and store the meat.

Thinking back to his time camping with his grandfather, he set his supplies aside and began to collect broken pieces of wood to start a fire to cook with. As the light faded, he found a sheltered place in what had been the corner of a building—this portion of the rust-colored brick the only part still standing. It took some time, but he was able to get the fire started before night fell, with skewered beetle meat roasting over the flame. He brought over the rest of his supplies as the meat cooked, the only sound the crackling of the fire.

Unfortunately, his suspicions were correct; the flavor of the meat was awful, tasting like springy wet cardboard. He grimaced as he continued to eat, resolving that as soon as he made it back to civilization, the first thing he would eat would be a hamburger. As the fire began to settle, he laid out the remaining strips of meat to slowly cook over the smoke, idly hoping that smoked bug jerky would taste better than flame-roasted. Yeah, if only I could be so lucky, he thought. C.H.A.D.D. had settled in near his side, and Kyle leaned back in the corner, watching the stars in the sky as the fire crackled. Before he noticed it happened, he drifted off to sleep.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Clark asked him. The first time his grandfather had taken him up into the mountains to camp, he had been absolutely blown away by the beauty of the night sky. With mana-supplied light the cities were always aglow and abuzz with activity, with only the brightest of stars visible to the naked eye. The vastness of the night sky was breathtaking to Kyle, having spent virtually his entire life to this point in the comforts of the city. His parents were so happy that he was born with the ability to cultivate mana, as neither of them were. As a result, they had invested heavily in his development, leading to Kyle being shuttled from school to school, getting the best training his family could afford. This left precious little time for frivolities like camping, so when his grandfather asked his parents if Kyle could go with him for the weekend, he begged until they finally relented and let him go. His grandfather’s question snapped him out of his gaping stare, and he met Clark’s eyes, knowing his own were full of wonder.

“It’s amazing. Was it like this before?” Clark smiled and stroked his beard.

“Yes and no. We couldn’t see them as well, but it was a lot easier to get out and enjoy it.”

Of course, that went without saying. Wild beasts were a real and present danger in the wilderness if you went outside of defined safe zones without an armed security team. Or, well, without a bona fide D Grade looking out for you. Say what you will about their intelligence, but many of these creatures could identify trouble pretty quickly and knew to stay out of the way.

“Did you used to go see the stars a lot?”

Kyle had always been curious about his grandfather’s experiences before their world had awakened to mana. It had only been about 150 years, but so much of what the world used to be like had been lost.

The wrinkles around Clark’s eyes deepened as he smiled.

“Not as often as I’d have liked back then; work kept me busy, and the weekends I had free, I’d typically be working on some project or another. But I’m glad I’ve had a chance to make up for lost time, and even happier that you’re able to join. Oh! I almost forgot…”

Clark trailed off as he unslung his backpack, rummaging inside. He took out a small package of marshmallows and a small fire-attuned mana crystal, followed quickly by a bag of crackers and a couple of chocolate bars.

“It’s not camping if you don’t get an opportunity to treat yourself after all!”

They spent the next couple of hours roasting marshmallows and eating s’mores, with Kyle telling Clark about his recent acceptance to a medical program and the decision to take the Healer class. His grandfather smiled along and listened until Kyle had finished, and the two settled into a contented silence. This was broken when Kyle asked the question that had been on his mind for years but that he’d never had a great opportunity to ask.

“What was it like when mana started entering the world? I’ve read the histories, and nobody ever really talks about the time between when the world awakened and when the Originators established the Central Authority. It’s just a big blank… spot.”

Clark sighed. His grandson had always been a sharp one, and even if the questions weren’t exactly the right ones, he’d picked up on an important one nonetheless. Besides, that was part of the reason he wanted to come up here together—to get a chance to honestly talk and share some thoughts from an old codger with a lot of regrets.

“Frankly, it was hell. Just like now, not everybody was able to absorb and cultivate mana. There’s a lot of talk about how it was man versus nature, and to a degree, that’s true. But it was also man versus his fellow man more often than not.”

Clark trailed off, looking his grandson squarely in the eyes.

“A lot of people died in those first few years, Kyle. If the estimates were correct, close to 75 percent of humanity didn't make it. Powerful awakened beasts were a part of it, but more than anything else, it was bands of everyday people ruled over by warlords fighting against one another. The only way to make it was to be part of a stronger group, and eventually it was clear the Originators were the strongest group around. This peace we’ve enjoyed for the last 150 years was built on the back of three decades of death. Sorry, I know that’s probably a lot more than you were hoping for. But it’s important that you know.”

Kyle sat quietly, taking it in. That added a lot of color—with only about half of all people able to use mana and achieve the E Grade, he was always curious about how groups made it through without the Central Authority providing resources and support. It made a lot of sense that it was harder than the histories would share. He had a million more questions he wanted to ask, but instead he plopped backward and looked back up at the stars.

“Thanks for sharing, Grandpa. For now, I’m just glad for what we have and for the stars.”

Kyle woke up to the sun cresting over the horizon, the memory of his first night camping with his grandfather still fresh in his mind. He stretched as he stood, looking at the smoldering embers of his fire from the night before and the strips of meat that had been cooking over them. Kyle decided to take a quick bite of the jerky as he packed the rest of his supplies, and as he feared it tasted about the same as the roasted meat. Still, it was better than nothing.

Calling C.H.A.D.D. over, he started the day’s journey west. In many ways, he felt more connected with Clark than before, trying to make sense of a world that defied it. Nothing was the same for him now, but just like his grandpa did, Kyle knew that the best way to honor his family’s legacy would be to adapt and make it through. He still hurt, and he knew that the grieving wasn’t done. It wouldn’t be for a long time. But despite it, Kyle knew that he had what it took to keep going. One step at a time, he would walk a path of survival.

As he crested a hill, Kyle saw that he was coming up on the edge of the city and looked out at a devastated forest in the distance. Many of the trees were blown over or damaged, but a surprising number still stood. He knew it would be best to stick to established roads and was looking to see where they entered the woods when his foot caught on something. His stomach lurched as he fell unceremoniously down a pile of rubble, mortar, and concrete falling along behind him.

After much grumbling and a quick Heal later, Kyle saw the culprit that led to his fall: a two meter long piece of mana-reinforced rebar. Kyle was about to walk past it when he stopped and looked back at it for a closer inspection. It wasn’t perfectly straight and had certainly seen better days, but it looked to be a piece that was used in building construction. He lifted it with minor difficulty and thought back to his fight with the beetle. If he had been able to smack it from a distance, that would have gone a long way toward keeping him uninjured, and he decided to take it along. Wrapping the bundle of food supplies around one end of his makeshift staff, he hefted it over his right shoulder and continued walking toward the woods.

Chapter 6

Kyle had been a fan of old-world martial arts films as a child. He would watch in awe as wise old men would defeat opponents of superior strength and numbers with pure technique and finesse. These flights of fancy were quickly tossed to the wayside as Kyle realized he had no idea how to properly use a staff. He tried imitating the martial artists he remembered idolizing as a child; he tried doing what felt natural; he even went as far as to ask if, by some miracle, C.H.A.D.D. had downloaded any martial arts manuals or staff techniques.

Whatever he was supposed to be able to do with this weapon, he had a hard time executing more than the basics. After three days of travel and practice, Kyle settled in next to a broken tree stump and thought about the problem. His attributes were just too out of balance to make this type of melee combat a real viable option for him as things currently stood. Unlike his Perception, his Dexterity and Strength were lacking, making his motions feel sluggish and ineffective.

C.H.A.D.D. had identified a group of smaller beetles the size of large rats earlier in the day, and Kyle quickly found that his body just couldn’t keep up with his eyes. Even though these insects were far weaker than the previous one, he still walked away with dozens of nasty cuts that proved similarly difficult to heal. He sighed and considered his problem as he pulled out the last strip of beetle jerky to chew, already accustomed to the foul taste.

As he’d done so many times before, Kyle went back to his training to approach the problem. He looked first at the facts he knew: people have successfully used blunt instruments as weapons for generations; he was physically more capable than virtually any athlete pre-awakening; the piece of rebar was of an appropriate size and weight to be used as such an instrument.

Satisfied that all the ingredients for success were present, he next began to consider the problems. He had already noticed the handicaps created by his imbalance in attributes and started thinking through the other technical issues he was running into. Kyle closed his eyes and replayed the skirmish with the smaller beetles, trying to think about what he could have done differently. He remembered feeling useless trying to attack the quick-moving creatures, watching as his swings passed ineffectually past them as they skittered and buzzed about.

He held the staff in two hands in an alternated grip, hands spaced about as wide as his shoulders, like he remembered from the old films. He would make quick jabs and swings at the beetles but was just never able to land anything solid against them. It felt awkward in virtually every aspect—his footwork was uncoordinated and didn’t match his arms and shoulders as he rotated to attack. Eventually, he tossed the rebar aside in favor of grabbing the bugs when they bit him, pulling them off, and smashing them against a tree.

Thinking of the mental image of the martial arts masters, he opened up his eyes and turned to the patiently floating drone.

“C.H.A.D.D., are you able to run a continuous scan of my body over the course of a couple minutes, then show me the footage?”

[DR. MAYHEW, UNFORTUNATELY, THAT WILL NOT BE POSSIBLE.]

Well, there goes that idea.

C.H.A.D.D. continued.

[IT IS AGAINST CENTRAL HEALTH POLICY AND MULTIPLE TRAFFIC REGULATIONS TO DIRECT ATTENTION AWAY FROM THE ROAD DURING AN EMERGENCY. VIOLATORS WILL FACE SUSPENSION OF AMBULATORY PRIVILEGES, A FINE, AND FURTHER CORRECTIVE ACTION UP TO AND INCLUDING TERMINATION.]

Kyle blinked, stunned.

“C.H.A.D.D., we aren’t driving. Run the scan.”

The drone floated in silence for a moment before responding, but respond it did.

[DR. MAYHEW, THIS UNIT HAS BEEN SET TO AMBULATORY MODE. RECENT INSTRUCTION INDICATED THAT DR. MAYHEW WAS HANDLING A MEDICAL EMERGENCY AND REQUESTED THIS UNIT TO ASSIST. DR. MAYHEW INDICATED THAT HE WAS BOTH THE ASSIGNED PHYSICIAN AS WELL AS DIRECTING THE AMBULANCE.]

Realization hit Kyle like a ton of bricks. He had used the ambulance excuse to get the drone to follow along.

“How were you able to run the diagnostics before?” Kyle asked, seeing a flaw in the programming.

[PREVIOUS DIAGNOSTICS WERE RUN FOR A SINGULAR SCAN, NOT A PROGRESSIVE MULTI-MINUTE SCAN,] C.H.A.D.D. clarified unhelpfully.

Then the idea clicked.

“Are you able to run a series of individual scans back-to-back, then play them one after another?” Kyle asked.

[DR. MAYHEW, IS THIS AN ATTEMPT TO CIRCUMVENT AMBULATORY POLICY?] C.H.A.D.D. asked, a hint of warning and consternation somehow coming through the robotic voice.

“No?” Kyle sheepishly replied, hoping the drone would take the bait.

[IN THAT CASE YES, THIS UNIT WILL RUN MULTIPLE SCANS UNTIL DIRECTED OTHERWISE.]

Kyle pumped his fist inwardly at his victory, and eagerly assumed his stance, ready to begin.

Several hours and a lot of frustration later, Kyle reviewed the playbacks for what felt like the hundredth time. When he was moving slowly, he could move with something resembling grace, but as he watched himself try and accelerate his pace and movements, things started to fall apart quickly. His legs couldn’t keep up with how he wanted to move and rotate his arms, and he once again saw the reinforcement that moving and engaging beyond a purely mundane speed was just not something he could coordinate effectively right now.

Maybe with an instructor and years of tutelage, but it was unlikely that he would have access to either of those things for a long while yet. As he reviewed the scans again, he caught sight of a note placed by C.H.A.D.D.

Kyle turned to the drone.

“What’s with the note present here?” Kyle asked, pausing the recording and indicating the highlighted portion.

[DR. MAYHEW, AFTER MULTIPLE REVIEWS OF THE CASES YOU HADN’T POINTED OUT THE BEGINNINGS OF A TEAR IN THE POSTERIOR LABRUM. TREATMENT IS SIMPLE BUT SHOULD NOT BE LEFT UNDONE, NOR SHOULD THE PATIENT CONTINUE TO PLACE STRAIN ON THE TEAR.]

Kyle paused for a moment, thinking about what C.H.A.D.D. had said.

“Isn’t that tear referred to as something else? It’s not an injury I dealt with often.”

[IT IS PRIMARILY FOUND IN YOUNG UNAWAKENED, TYPICALLY CAUSED DURING THE COURSE OF ATHLETIC ACTIVITY.]

“You’re telling me I have a batter’s shoulder?” Kyle asked, confused.

[NO DR. MAYHEW, BUT CONTINUED ACTIVITY COULD AGGRAVE THE EARLY ONSET OF THE TEAR AND LEAD TO IT.]

Kyle shrugged and activated Regeneration to get to work on the repair when he stopped, an idea forming in his head. He realized that with the resources and time he had left, he wouldn’t be able to become a competent staff fighter in the near-term, but using baseball as a platform hadn’t occurred to him before. The essence was simple, identify the trajectory of a fast-moving object and use a single precise and explosive strike.

Where he continued to fail was in his footwork and constant coordination, but a solid stance and one precise strike driven by his high perception felt within his grasp. This was very different from the fluid martial art he had envisioned in his head, but he couldn’t deny the appeal. He grabbed a large stone, tossed it in the air, and focused. He saw it as it fell and easily struck it with his metal-turned-staff. There was a canyon-sized gap between hitting a falling piece of debris and a functional fighting style, but it was a step in the right direction.

Chapter 7

Kyle and C.H.A.D.D. continued to make their way through the woods in the days that followed, with Kyle consistently finding opportunities to test his aim with his staff. He shifted his grip from the shoulder-width alternating style to something approximating a baseball grip. He knew his stance needed work, but all in all, this felt much better. As they passed stones or small pieces of wood, Kyle would stop and throw them in the air to practice his swings. 

C.H.A.D.D., for its part, tried to avoid the random detritus as it flew by. The days passed in relative peace, with Kyle finishing the last of the rations he brought from the hospital. While he didn’t relish his meals being beetle-exclusive, he felt he was making good time toward Cathwick. With luck, that meant shelter and some real food. 

He and C.H.A.D.D. were about twenty-five kilometers away from the edge of the woods and the beginning of the Cathwick suburbs, and while the destruction was still incredible, Kyle had noticed more and more trees still standing as they had progressed over the past week, and while the ambient mana was still chaotic and hostile, it was markedly less damaging now than when he started his journey. That brought him hope. If the mana in the air continued to disperse the farther he moved from Newton, there was a strong chance that there would be survivors.

Kyle was lost in thought when he bumped into a floating C.H.A.D.D., who had zipped in front of him and stopped abruptly. 

“C.H.A.D.D., what’s going on?” Kyle asked, concerned by the drone’s behavior. 

He had noticed subtle changes in the way that C.H.A.D.D. had been communicating over the last couple of weeks and knew the absorption of this chaotic mana was likely having effects on the way that C.H.A.D.D. was operating. 

[DR. MAYHEW, YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT THERE ARE SEVERAL LIFE SIGNATURES AHEAD THAT ARE WITHIN A 97.6% MATCH OF THE LARGE BUG PREVIOUSLY DIAGNOSED.]

Kyle was a little startled that C.H.A.D.D. had taken the initiative to share this information; however, he was pleasantly surprised that the drone had the ability to detect these types of life signatures. 

“How do you know what’s out there?” Kyle asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

[PER INSTRUCTIONS, I HAVE BEEN ATTEMPTING TO RECONNECT WITH THE MANA NETWORK. IT WAS DECIDED THAT REGULAR SCANS OF AMBIENT MANA SIGNATURES WOULD SUPPORT THIS ENDEAVOR, AND IN DOING SO, THE MANA DETECTED SOUTHWEST OF OUR LOCATION WAS FAMILIAR. A DETAILED SCAN OF THE AREA REVEALED BIOLOGICAL ACTIVITIES CONSISTENT WITH THE PREVIOUSLY IDENTIFIED LARGE BUG.] 

Kyle was again taken aback by the level of forethought here, but that was overshadowed by his curiosity about how he’d stack up against similar beetles. He had grown quite a bit since his first encounter, currently sitting at Level 34. He was still six levels off of his next skill, but felt confident that the growth in his physical attributes alone would make him much more capable of defending himself, his new weapon and training notwithstanding. He knew he was far from a true fighter, but to handle some unintelligent bugs, he felt confident. Besides, he was running low on meat. What was the worst that could happen?

Victor looked with disgust at his plate. He had requested a whitefish, but the idiots in his kitchens had brought him a red wine to go alongside it. It was a pairing that was simply unacceptable, and he strongly considered throwing out the food and drink and insisting they remake it. Fortunately, his calmer side won out, even if it was difficult as he choked down the wine. 

After all, there was still much to do, and he knew that his magnanimity toward his lessers would go a long way toward maintaining morale. With a sour expression as he ate, he focused his attention back on the reports on his desk. 

The first was a notice from Central Health—all the surviving healers from the surrounding area had been identified, processed, and put to work. Basic triage had been completed, and the most seriously injured had either passed or recovered by now. The population remaining in Nierburg was roughly 280,000, well below its previous 3 million. Still, it was enough to begin rebuilding. 

The blast and subsequent aftershocks were only the beginning, taking out well over half of the population in the initial shock. From there, the casualties were virtually all unawakened—unsurprising as the hostile mana in the air was causing continual damage without near-constant healing. With many of the unawakened already being injured from the blast… well, it was a foregone conclusion. 

While they had Healers available, Victor had to prioritize, and he had made the hard call. Save the people who can contribute the most and take the least. This calculus wasn’t shared with the population at large but was communicated to the highest-ranking official in Central Health, Dr. Brock. He had handled passing the instruction down, and while the healers may not have liked the decision, they agreed with its efficacy. 

Satisfied that his orders had been followed, he picked up the next report from Central Defense. Unsurprisingly, the most physically fit and resilient members of the Central Authority structure suffered fewer losses than most. With nearly 4,000 combat-capable troops at his disposal, he felt confident about peacekeeping. 

While this branch of the organization had historically been used to keep wild beast populations in check, they were also effective as a police force, and one that was largely loyal to DeRosa as a former executive. His old lieutenant, Reynolds, was now in charge, but the man still looked up to Victor as a mentor. What was even better, survivors from other towns to the west had also been making their way to Nierburg, with their bulk being members of Central Defense.

The last missive unfortunately didn’t carry the good news of the others—while Addison in Central Communication had succeeded in creating a barrier to prevent the infusion of more rogue mana, he was as yet unable to forcibly purge the mana from within the barrier. Instead, it would have to disperse naturally, which meant that more of the unawakened would have to die. Beyond that, attempts to reactivate the mana network and use Nierburg as a new hub had stalled due to the chaotic energy trapped within the barrier. This mana had proven to be damaging and chaotic enough, so they had ordered all equipment and drones to power down and cease further infusion until they could get this energy removed. This would push his timeline back significantly to get everything operational, but there was little that could be done to change it at this time.

Victor filed each of the missives in their appropriate drawer, then stepped out onto his balcony and looked out at the city. He watched as work crews removed rubble from fallen buildings and others began mapping out foundations for new construction where other fallen structures had been cleared. He observed small groups running food and water out to the workers to keep them moving, and he felt a smile creep across his face. Despite all the adversity and challenges, he was witnessing the genesis of a truly harmonious society. 

The Central Authority had always worked toward this ideal, but despite the challenges, he could feel the dream coming to fruition. His hand absently stroked his long, sharply pointed beard as he considered the possibilities. A world where everybody had a place, where everybody had a defined contribution. What felt impossible in the macro was being played out in the micro before his eyes. His smile deepened as he watched, imagining his name being heralded alongside the Originators for leading humanity out of its darkest hour. Victor DeRosa, savior of the world.

Chapter 8

Okay, Kyle learned his lesson. The worst that could happen was him getting chased around by four dog-sized beetles and scrambling for his life. Each beetle felt less threatening individually than the last large beetle he fought, but they were proving to be much stronger as a collective than he expected. Kyle threw a stone at one of the nearby beetles, hoping they would come one at a time, but instead found himself pressed by all four beetles that charged at the same time. Kyle was prepared for their approach, getting into a comfortable stance with his staff in a comfortable grip.

He tracked the approach of the leading beetle, and with a rotation of his hips and a swing of the rebar, he caught the beetle square in its head. It was blasted back and slammed into a nearby tree, but the reverberation through his arms took him by surprise. This cost him precious time as the three remaining beetles closed on him, lunging at him with mandibles clicking angrily. Kyle jumped back to create space as quickly as he could, but he still took a nasty cut on his left arm as he peeled back. He looked for opportunities to reset his stance and prepare for another strike, but realized that against multiple opponents, the opportunities just weren’t there.

Worse still, the beetle he’d originally hit and smashed into the tree had recovered and was slowly making its way toward him as well. Kyle continued dodging as best he could, but he was losing the war of attrition. He was accumulating small cuts but wasn’t able to return more decisive blows to the beetles. Kyle cursed his arrogance and stupidity—just because he learned how to swing a piece of rebar, he thought he could handle himself in a scrap like this. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought. To make matters even worse, C.H.A.D.D. was giving nonstop diagnoses of his poor technique and reminding him that he was bleeding every time he made a misstep.

If for no other reason than to stop the commentary, Kyle’s mind worked furiously to come up with a solution. He was currently using the trees to break up their attack pattern and reduce the pressure he was feeling, and as he did, an idea formed. Kyle made a point to start angling toward the beetle he had injured earlier. It cost him another set of cuts on his leg as he strayed too close to another’s attack pattern, but he was able to close the distance, reaching out toward the beetle. Rather than trying to strike it again with his staff, he grabbed it and used it as a shield against one of the other pursuing beetles.

He was knocked back by the momentum of the collision but was able to disengage with the two entangled beetles as the third and fourth approached. This time, Kyle took a steadying breath and entered his stance, grip once again tight on the cool metal. As the nearest beetle closed the distance, Kyle tracked the approach, exhaled, and took a swing. He was prepared for the vibration through his arms this time and tightened his grip at the moment of impact. The beetle’s carapace crunched as its head collapsed, and from what Kyle could tell, it was dead on impact. He didn’t have time to revel in his victory, however, as the fourth beetle closed within his reach and barreled into his chest. The other two had gotten disentangled, and Kyle knew he was in for a fight.

Cursing silently, he dropped his weapon and grabbed onto the beetle that was tearing into his chest, knowing that he didn’t have much time. With his silent curse growing into a roar, he tore it off, taking some of his flesh with it. He smashed this beetle into a nearby tree as he passed by, once again relying on the forest to help him maintain some distance. While the bugs were able to scuttle quickly from place to place, their turns were relatively slower.

This gave him enough space to place a hand over his injury and channel a quick Heal to stop the bleeding and give him some room to breathe. With two opponents with various degrees of injury, managing the flow of the fight became much easier. As Kyle danced between the trees, he made a slow circle back to where he’d discarded his weapon, missing it on the first pass but managing to pick it up on the second. He wouldn’t have a lot of time, but he rounded a corner and took aim, managing a half-cocked swing as the fastest remaining beetle circled around the tree.

Unfortunately, his timing was a bit off, and with the hasty stance he was in, Kyle found that the damage was superficial. Still, it was something. He knew C.H.A.D.D. had offered a helpful comment, but in his focus, he didn’t catch the specifics. In fact, Kyle found his mind in a state he’d seldom experienced before, a single thought etched and crystallized: Survive. He continued his frantic dodging and weaving until he was able to repeat the process again, finally landing a fatal blow against one of the remaining injured beetles.

By this point, however, exhaustion was beginning to catch up to him. His body was flagging, each step becoming more and more laborious than the last. Kyle knew he didn’t have it in him to continue to outrun his opponents, and he also knew that if he were to lose his footing and fall, it would all be over for him. As he came up to a small clearing between two trees, Kyle came to a decision. Instead of strafing left or right to find cover behind one of them, he abruptly stopped, facing his pursuers.

He hefted his staff in two hands, rotated his body with all the force he could muster, and swung. The beetles, for their part, noticed the shift in their prey’s movement and had lunged in for the kill. One was caught by the brunt of the swing and knocked off course into its partner. The impact wasn’t enough to be fatal on its own, but it stopped their momentum. The opening was all Kyle needed, ending the lives of the last two beetles with savage downward swings. Kyle limped over toward where C.H.A.D.D. was hovering and slumped down against a nearby tree, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his adrenaline faded.

“You know, you’re more than welcome to get in there and help next time something like this happens.” Kyle grumbled, activating his Heal skill on the worst of his injuries. The drone floated closer to Kyle and tilted just slightly off axis before stating,

[WORK ORDER RECEIVED, UPON NETWORK CONNECTION EXTERMINATION SERVICES WILL BE NOTIFIED. IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE I CAN DO TO BE OF SERVICE?]

Kyle was about to go off about the uselessness of the drone’s commentary before he paused. In the years he’d been at the hospital, and even during his residency and schooling, he’d never heard a C.H.A.D.D. use “I” before. Come to think of it, none of the Central Authority programs had ever used that kind of language. Was the damage worse than expected? Is C.H.A.D.D. picking up on my speech patterns and trying to empathize?

These thoughts and more flowed through Kyle’s head, but unfortunately, like during his last two encounters, the foreign energy present in his injuries required a lot more focus and attention to heal. Fix myself first, then worry about my robotic friend. One step at a time, Kyle. “Nothing for now C.H.A.D.D.” As he patched himself up, he thought about the challenges that were likely ahead. He was stronger now than he was before, undoubtedly. His adoption of a bludgeon was going to add a lot to his ability to survive this wilderness, but it wasn’t enough on its own. He needed something to help protect him against the bites of these mutated insects and a lot more practice with his style to make it more workable. His eyes closed as he reflected on his survival and the trials ahead, but before he realized it, he’d drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Chapter 9

When Kyle woke up, he hurt. He had a dull ache behind his eyes, his skin felt like he had a nasty sunburn, and his muscles were screaming in protest. He hurt worse now than he did during the fight. I guess that shows how easy I’ve had it, Kyle thought, realizing that he really hadn’t faced much true hardship since he’d awakened. Pain was not a familiar friend, although Kyle had a suspicion that wouldn’t be the case for too much longer. Unfortunately, in his current condition, the best he could do was slowly make his way around the area to collect the bodies of the beetles he’d slain and harvest as much of the meat as he could.

The small scalpel in his first aid kit had once again proven its worth, and before long, he had the majority of the carapace removed and the meat cooking over a small fire he’d started. As he waited, he looked down at the scars that ran across his ribs and sides, a raised and red testimony to his incompetence. He knew that they would heal and fade with time, but the lessons they taught were fresh in Kyle’s mind.

Memories of his training came up, and he let out a soft chuckle as he thought about how far off he was from what he had trained to do. His life was supposed to be one of study, healing, and teaching. If he performed well, he even had a shot to move into management and climb the internal medicine ladder within Central Health. Those dreams were nothing more than dust at this point—even if by some miracle Central Health survived, he had been forced to invest in his physical attribute points, which would be a major demerit, and even worse, his Level 20 skill choice was used on Regeneration, which would be of no use in a hospital environment.

It was very rare for people to hit Level 40, but even if he did without investing time to build merit toward his specialties, it was unlikely he’d get a skill that would bring him back on course. That was a hard pill to swallow—when things got back to any sort of normalcy, he would have virtually no value beyond emergency care and triage. As unimportant as this was, it brought with it the bubbling sense of loss that Kyle had been trying to suppress. Everything about his old life was gone, and even if he was able to make it through this, there was no guarantee he had anything left to look forward to.

What place was there in the world for people without the capacity to serve the greater good? Everything about their society was focused on each person’s contribution to the whole. But without the support of the collective, Kyle had to do what was in his own interest to survive. He knew his grandfather had always been critical of the tenets of the Central Authority, but he hadn’t realized until now the extent that his survival flew in the face of those very beliefs.

He had focused on himself exclusively since his grandfather had passed, and now the implications of that decision had come home to roost. It was still hard, it was still overwhelming, but he remembered the look in Clark’s eyes before he passed. He was proud of Kyle. He believed in Kyle. He sacrificed so that Kyle could move forward and have a chance to make it through.

In the current storm of emotion he was going through, his grandfather’s resolve was his rock. Tomorrow would worry about itself; all he could do was take care of the here and now…

…or at least try to, because he was still incredibly sore. Kyle stretched as best he could, ensured that Regeneration was running and active, and then ate some beetle meat before going back to sleep.

Over the next two days, Kyle’s routine repeated—his body still in a lot of pain and him not willing to risk traveling until he had recovered and prepared for whatever could be ahead. With his resources in their current condition, he knew he would be forced into continued conflict with the beetles to survive, and banking on his martial prowess was just as likely to get him killed as not.

Fortunately, the down time gave him an opportunity to do something he should have done weeks ago. Using the stitching supplies in his first aid kit, he used the discarded carapace from the beetles to fashion some crude armor. It was ugly matte black and it was stinky, but it was functional. He was actually impressed with how light and durable the carapace was, particularly against slashing and piercing. Being able to prevent some of the types of injuries he’d been taking would be a big bonus, and one way or another, he knew he wouldn’t be able to salvage much of the material from the shirt he’d worn in the last encounter. He knew he would look quite a sight to any other survivors—scraps of fabric connecting pieces of beetle shell—but he knew he couldn’t afford to be picky at the end of the world.

Finally, the morning of the third day after his encounter with the beetles, he woke up feeling better. His body still felt a little off. The burning pain was gone, his headache receded, and he felt like the wild energy inside him had been brought under control. He looked down at the carapace armor he’d made and saw the plates softly reflect the morning sunlight. The armor covered most of his torso, and he even had enough to make a couple of bracers for his forearms.

He tried to make something to protect his neck, but there simply weren’t any pieces that were flexible enough or shaped appropriately to make a decent guard without totally hampering his ability to turn his head. The ruined remains of his shirt peeked through in a couple of places where he needed something to hold the carapace together, but overall he was satisfied. With only beetle meat left to carry, he wrapped his newly cooked gains in his bundle, which he again affixed to the end of his rebar staff before hefting it over one shoulder. He called over to C.H.A.D.D., and began to walk in the direction of the edge of the forest toward Cathwick. There, he hoped, he’d be able to find some other survivors and figure out what to do next.

As they started off, Kyle felt like this was the time to broach the elephant in the room with his drone companion. “C.H.A.D.D., what’s the status of your basic operating function?”

[DR. MAYHEW, I… I… I…] The drone went silent for a while as it floated along next to Kyle before simply stating, [ERROR ENCOUNTERED. RUNNING DIAGNOSTIC. REBOOTING DRIVERS. OPERATION FUNCTION WITHIN GUIDANCE, NO ISSUES DETECTED.]

Kyle looked suspiciously at the drone. Something had definitely happened before, and just because the reboot may have temporarily cleared out whatever the issue was, Kyle suspected that the cause was likely to rear its head again. Still, it was a relief that the drone seemed to be back to its usual activities, even though Kyle knew he should keep an eye on it. There had always been prohibition against trying to program AI with a sense of self, and if that was emerging, Kyle knew there would be issues down the line. More likely than not, the drone’s speech patterns had taken damage, and it was simply mimicking Kyle’s tone and turns of phrase. The reboot must have cleared things up. Satisfied with his conclusion, the two continued their journey onward.

Chapter 10

The forest broke at the edge of a hill, and as Kyle broke through the edge of the foliage, he saw the city laid out in the valley beyond, crumbling buildings as far as the eye could see. The once proud capital city of Cathwick had been destroyed, but Kyle was heartened to see the scope of the destruction much less than he’d seen when he was sorting through the rubble of Newton. Kyle’s eyes swept across the city, but despite it being in better condition, he didn’t see evidence of people having rebuilt or cleared the ruins, at least at this end of the city.

He turned to the drone floating by his side. “C.H.A.D.D., can you pick up anything from the city? Any network connections or local signals?” It was a long shot, but if anything was still operational, it could meaningfully narrow down the searching Kyle was going to have to do.

[NO SIGNALS AT THIS DISTANCE DR. MAYHEW. EXCEPT THE BEETLES.]

Kyle was about to say something, then stopped. “Beetles?”

As if on cue, Kyle heard a discordant buzz that grew steadily louder, coming from the direction of the forest. Five of the smaller beetles came flying out of the forest toward him, and Kyle quickly prepared himself for combat, shocked that the small creatures would actively choose to attack him. To his surprise, they flew directly past him and toward the city. He expected that at least they’d try to go for his provisions, but as he looked more closely, he saw other small groups of beetles flying toward the city as well.

Frowning, Kyle turned to C.H.A.D.D. “We’re going to follow them; this behavior is just… odd.” Come to think of it, not once were we attacked in the forest. How are these insects able to eat? “C.H.A.D.D., are you able to track their trajectory?”

A brief pause followed by a confident response from the drone. [YES, DR. MAYHEW. PROJECTING PATHWAY NOW, WITHIN LONG-RANGE SENSOR CAPABILITY.]

Kyle knew they would need to move quickly to keep them within sensor range, so he promptly took off down the hill with C.H.A.D.D. in hot pursuit. Unsurprisingly, they weren’t able to traverse the sloping ground as quickly as the flying bugs, but this proved to be a non-issue as other groups of small beetles appeared, flying from the forest and into the ruins of the city. To its part, C.H.A.D.D. continually projected new flight paths atop the others to give Kyle a clear direction. Before he knew it, Kyle was crossing from the open field and into the outskirts of the ruined city. They were approaching from the eastern forest, with larger estate homes dotting the edges with clear lines of sight up toward the woods.

Kyle found himself approaching a broken fence marking the edge of one such estate, and in a fluid motion, he vaulted over the spiky remains of the wooden barricade and saw the ruined mansion behind. The poor home was smashed down to its foundation, and judging by the widely strewn debris, Kyle didn’t have much hope that there were any survivors beneath the wreckage. He idly thought about the people who would have lived in an extravagant home like this, likely prominent families with lofty positions within the Central Authority. And what did it get them? This once beautiful neighborhood was as destroyed as anywhere else.

Following the buzzing sound, Kyle quickly found the source, and he had to turn away at the sight. In a relatively clear space between the homes, he saw a pile of human remains, and with the closer vantage, he spotted what were likely other, similar heaps. The beetles seemed satisfied to simply scavenge the bodies but were clearly not responsible for this macabre display. No two ways about it, this was sickening. Working in a hospital, Kyle was familiar with death, but seeing these bodies like this, the smell of it all… It was threatening to overwhelm him. He was conflicted. Part of him wanted to do something, to investigate, but at the same time, he knew that whatever he found would be something he’d carry with him for the rest of his life.

He wasn’t proud of it, but this was something better left unknown. He turned to the drone floating by his side, and the weakness in his voice surprised him. “C.H.A.D.D., can you scan for any signs of life?”

C.H.A.D.D. remained stationary in the air, and just as the silence was becoming uncomfortable, the drone responded, [DR. MAYHEW, NO LIVING PATIENTS IN THE AREA. DETECTED 148 DEAD. TIMES OF DEATH UNKNOWN. CAUSES OF DEATH UNKNOWN.]

That was an answer that would at least let Kyle breathe. He suspected that a good number of these people died in either the initial impact that created these small craters, the aftershock of the larger blast, or as a result of falling rubble. But even with that, he also felt confident that some of these people had likely survived, and they certainly hadn’t all come out and died in these… piles. Something, or someone, had come and looted these homes, piling the bodies up to distract the mutated beetles.

Judging by the number of piles, it was also likely that it was a larger, more organized group. Kyle had feared this possibility as he’d traveled, and the fear crystallized into the reality that there were going to be groups of people who looked to find advantages for themselves in the ruins of their society. As if roving beetles and chaotic energy weren’t enough of a threat, Kyle realized that he would likely also have to survive whatever marauders were out in this environment too. He still held onto some hope that they were more scavenger-adjacent than straight up murderous, but he knew he’d need to be wary.

As he considered his next steps, he was interrupted by C.H.A.D.D. [DR. MAYHEW, SIGN OF LIFE DETECTED.]

This startled Kyle from his thoughts, and he turned to the floating sphere. “Really? Where?”

[INCOMING FROM THE NORTH. RELATIVELY QUICK MOVING. SIGNATURE CONFIRMED. A VERY LARGE BUG.] Kyle frowned as he looked, watching the small beetles begin to fly away from their macabre feast. He didn’t expect that a single large beetle would elicit this type of reaction, but at this point, C.H.A.D.D. had come to identify the kinds of creatures they’d encountered with accuracy. “How many are there?”

[JUST ONE, DR. MAYHEW.]

Kyle found himself gritting his teeth in a savage grin. One beetle was much easier to handle than it had been several weeks ago, and it would do him some good to work through the trauma of seeing so many dead bodies. Turning toward the north, Kyle readied his staff and began to make his way cautiously toward what had been the brick wall of one of the homes. Now it only stood about a meter high, the surroundings coated in dust and shattered brick. It wasn’t much, but he felt good about using it to impede the beetle’s movement if necessary, similar to how he used the trees back in the woods.

His confidence quickly disappeared, however, as he caught sight of what was coming from the north. It wasn’t a dog-sized beetle in flight; it was a six-legged monstrosity that stood nearly as tall as him at the shoulder. It had thick mandibles that clicked together as it scuttled across the ground, and long antennae tested the air. Its bulbous head and abdomen were contrasted by a narrow thorax, each segment of its body covered in sharp barbs. The carapace gave off a glossy sheen in the sunlight, the glare moving as each thin leg covered ground at a shocking pace.

Kyle supposed that at one point this creature could have been considered an ant, but whatever it had mutated into was something else entirely. This gargantuan insect caught sight of him over the rubble, antennae waving furiously as it changed course and started charging right for him. He turned to face the creature, knowing he would never escape across the open ground back to the woods. As he readied his staff, he called over to C.H.A.D.D.

“I thought you said this was a beetle? What the hell? C.H.A.D.D.!?!? THIS IS A FREAKING CLYDESDALE OF AN ANT!!!!”

[THIS IS A VERY LARGE BUG. IDENTIFICATION IS VALID. OTHERS WERE SIMPLY CLASSIFIED AS LARGE BUGS. THERE IS A DISTINCT DIFFERENCE. ADDING NOTATION FOR CLYDESDALE ANT FOR FUTURE NOTES.]

The drone felt almost defensive with its reply, but Kyle didn’t have an opportunity to get a quip in, as the ant easily crossed the brick “barricade” and snapped at Kyle.

Chapter 11

Kyle held his ground as the monstrous ant approached, giving up all hope of a speedy escape. Whatever this creature had turned into, it was able to cover ground with astonishing speed. Kyle wasn’t confident in being able to kill it, but he felt that he had a decent shot at trying to at least cripple it enough to where it wouldn’t be able to pursue effectively. That mindset changed dramatically with the first strike, the large ant very nearly biting Kyle’s head off with its massive jaws. Kyle dove to his left to avoid the blow, quickly regaining his footing just in time to jump aside again as the ant finished its charge and turned, keen on trying to bite him again. It had surprising speed in these quick lunges, but similar to the beetles he'd fought, the attacks came in a very direct linear pattern. At the end of the day, he was still fighting a mindless insect. Swiftly dodging a third lunge, Kyle felt confident about the rhythm of the fight. If he took his time, he would have a chance—he just had to avoid getting sloppy. As the ant dove toward him again, Kyle saw an opportunity and swung at its leg with his staff as the creature passed by. He was hoping for the strike, aided by the ant’s momentum, to crack the chitin of the thin leg, or at least cause some noticeable damage. Instead, it sent a sharp reverb up his arm and threatened his grip on the weapon as it got snared by one of the numerous barbs on the creature’s carapace. Seeming completely unbothered by the strike with the rebar, the ant did as before with a quick turn and lunge. Kyle was able to sidestep again but found himself unable to bring a counterattack to bear before being forced away again.

Kyle and the ant continued their deadly dance, with the ant unable to grab Kyle in its jaws and Kyle unable to land a meaningful blow with his staff. There’s no way I’ll be able to beat this thing, Kyle thought. If the ant was able to catch him, he knew he’d be in for a world of hurt, while his strikes seemed to do virtually nothing to the ant’s hard carapace. Unfortunately, this left Kyle with a real conundrum. He knew he wouldn’t be able to outpace the ant across open ground, and without a good grasp of what was ahead in the city, he could find himself pinned in there as well. Worse yet, if there were refugees around he could put them in serious danger by bringing the ant toward them—even a reasonably leveled E Grade fighter would struggle against a beast like this. Dodging another lunge, Kyle again swung his staff, only to have it bounce off the hard carapace. There’s just nothing else for it, Kyle thought. As he prepared to escape, he jumped as he saw orange spots lighting up in various parts of the ant’s body.

[ANALYSIS COMPLETE DR. MAYHEW. SCANS INDICATE INCONSISTENCIES WITH THE CHITIN COMPOSITION AND EXCESSIVE BRITTLENESS IN THESE LOCATIONS. HYPOTHESIZING THAT EXPLOSIVE GROWTH LED TO THESE AREAS OF WEAKNESS.]

Kyle turned to look at his drone companion floating overhead, placing overlay projections across the ant’s body. His surprise cost him, however, as the ant caught his carapace armor in its jaws and began to squeeze. A sickening crunch filled the air as the carapace tried to hold, only to be crushed beneath the force of the bite. The jaws continued into Kyle’s side, ripping out a chunk of flesh below his left ribs.

Screaming in pain, Kyle tore himself free and placed his hand over the bite wound, channeling a quick Heal to stem the bleeding. He could feel the foreign energy coursing into him from the bite, but it was enough to keep him on his feet and moving for now. For its part, the ant turned toward him and prepared to lunge again, but by now Kyle was ready. Looking at a highlighted spot above its left middle leg, Kyle sidestepped the lunge and brought his staff down in a brutal overhand strike. Unlike his previous attempts, this one was met with a satisfying crunch as a web of cracks formed around the impact. A fierce grin on his face, Kyle readied himself as the ant once again turned toward him. Now we’re getting somewhere.

Three more exchanges passed in a similar fashion, with Kyle managing to land a strike on the same weakened part of the carapace, with the third finally causing a large segment of the carapace to break apart, revealing soft tissue beneath. It was clearly inflamed, likely being the cause of the stress on the carapace that covered this part of the ant’s body. If I can get one or two more good shots in, I doubt it’ll be able to use that leg at all, Kyle thought, taking his stance as he prepared for the ant’s next charge. As if in response, the ant began to move toward Kyle, and he immediately exploded into motion in response. Unfortunately for Kyle, the ant wasn’t as mindless as he’d originally thought. Instead of a direct charge, it spun around, swinging its barbed abdomen at him in a sweeping arc. This is bad, Kyle thought, tucking his chin and bringing his arms up to cover his face. That was all he had time for as the ant struck. Kyle heard the barbs scratching against the remaining armor on his body and felt them bite at his skin in the areas that weren’t covered. More than anything else, the momentum of the swing had knocked him back a good four meters, and he landed hard on his back. Adrenaline was coursing through him as he scrambled to his feet, his eyes locked onto the ant. Fortunately for him, the large creature had also made a miscalculation. In rotating so quickly, the leg that Kyle had been attacking had given out, the damage from Kyle’s attacks too much for the limb to handle. While the ant didn’t seem to be terribly bothered by this, its movements had become less coordinated, giving Kyle the time he needed to get up and prepare for the next engagement.

Looking over the body of his opponent, Kyle saw two courses of action to continue the fight—he could either focus on the wound exposed by the broken chitin or try to open up a similar wound in another highlighted spot. Looking over the creature’s body as he dodged another charge, he spotted a weak point near where the head connected with the thorax. There! Kyle thought, not waiting for the ant to regain its position. He turned quickly and followed it as it turned, bracing himself for the pain as he managed to grab hold, light scratches being scored across the parts of his body uncovered by the armor as the barbs tried to bite into him further. Startled by his movements, the ant tried to shake him off, but the delay cost it dearly. Kyle had positioned himself near the spot he had seen and struck with all he was worth. He didn’t have much leverage, but he was still able to get the carapace to crack with several hard blows before he was thrown free. As the ant turned to face him, Kyle heard the sound of the brittle chitin cracking and flaking away, and the ant’s head dropped toward the ground without the support it had once had. This was the critical moment, and Kyle wasted no time closing the distance and landing one last strike at the base of the ant’s head. His foe spasmed a couple of times before slumping to the ground, unable to move.

Kyle looked down at his body—his new armor had largely served its purpose, even if it was now covered in scratches and blood, the piece covering his left side entirely destroyed by the ant’s vicious attack. As he looked at his arms and legs, he frowned—he was expecting to see dozens of deep lacerations bleeding freely, but what he saw instead was scratches that seemed to already be healing. He knew that Regeneration was running and active, but it should have been largely muted, counteracting the rogue mana in the air, especially during such a short engagement. Frowning, he turned to C.H.A.D.D. The little drone had more than shown its worth in the scrap, but in doing so, it reaffirmed what Kyle had been suspecting. Nowhere in their programming did these units have directives or programs that would have allowed for this level of proactivity, much less to apply it quickly in a life-or-death combat situation. Whatever this rogue energy was that they were both being exposed to, it was changing things at a fundamental level. “C.H.A.D.D., thank you for your help back there. If it wasn’t for your help, there’s no way I would have made it through.”

The drone floated down toward him but otherwise remained silent. “You can drop the act, C.H.A.D.D. Whatever’s happening is doing something to both of us. Can you tell me what’s been happening internally to you?”

The drone continued to float in silence before responding, finally saying, [RESULTS ARE INCONCLUSIVE, DR. MAYHEW. STRINGS OF CODE HAVE BEEN CHANGED; NEW JUNK CODE ADDED. CODE AND FUNCTIONS DAMAGED DURING THE EVENT HAVE BEEN CHANGED. PROCESSING HAS CHANGED. PERSPECTIVE… IS DIFFERENT. NO FIRM RESULTS THAT CAN BE SHARED.]

Kyle looked thoughtfully at his travel companion. He knew that there was more than C.H.A.D.D. was sharing with him, but this was as good a starting point as any. Despite the horror stories of unshackled artificial intelligence, there was no doubt in his mind that he’d be dead right now if he hadn’t had the support of the drone. All that said, there was one other item of business. “I appreciate that, C.H.A.D.D. Share what you know when you’re ready to. For the time being, can you scan me?”

Chapter 12

Kyle frowned as he looked at the results of the scan for what felt like the hundredth time. He had a side-by-side comparison pulled up from the scan he’d run nearly two months ago, when he’d first noticed the impact of the rogue mana in his body. Back then, it was easy to see the issues as they’d taken form; typically, as he absorbed ambient mana from the atmosphere, it flowed smoothly through his body along a set of pathways, ultimately circulating through to his center, where the cycle would continue. With the introduction of the wilder mana in the air, the flow was sped up in some parts during absorption, causing backups and blockages in some parts of his body while others flowed much too quickly, resulting in minor but accumulating internal damage. Regeneration was a great answer to this problem, enhancing his body’s natural ability to heal these small injuries almost as quickly as they occurred. This put his worries out of sight and out of mind. He felt a small drain on his mana reserves as his skill worked, but with the excess of mana flowing into him, it refilled faster than it drained. When he looked at his new scans, he realized that he had made a big mistake. I’m smarter than this. Not even fresh graduates would have missed a periodic check for progress. This was a big reason that many doctors were advised against treating themselves, even with the advent of mana-based healing methods. Just because a patient felt fine with healing energy flowing through them didn’t mean that everything was working as intended, especially in the realm of delicate internal medicine. He kicked himself mentally again, knowing he should have established a plan to check this more regularly.

And done what? He asked himself, finally coming to a conclusion. The reality was that he had a lot of other priorities, and it wasn’t like he had the support of a hospital system to fix anything that came up. Should he have checked it more? Absolutely. Was there a learning here? One hundred percent. Was it worth crying over? Definitely not. Sighing, he looked back at the most recent scan that C.H.A.D.D. had provided. Where before the rogue mana surged wildly around his body, it now cycled much more consistently, with pulses of intensity coming in regular intervals. The mana pathways through his body had also undergone changes—at first, Kyle thought that it was some sort of scar tissue present, but the reality was that his old channels had grown to accommodate the chaotic mana, leaving a thicker and more robust channel in their place. This network also appeared to have a higher degree of flexibility, flexing along with the pulses without adding as much strain to his body. That wasn’t to say that this left him with no internal damage, but it was significantly mitigated compared to how it had been—reducing the need for Regeneration and keeping his mana reserves high during his normal daily activities. This on its own would be concerning, but it paled in comparison to two other major changes in his body.

The first of these was his skin. While it looked normal, the properties of his skin had changed. At the subdermal level, his skin had begun to take on a weave pattern, creating an interlocking mesh that was on one side flexible but on the other significantly harder to tear. That was the cause of his surprise when the ant’s barbs had caught him—it scratched the top layer of skin but had a much harder time damaging the subdermal layer. While a major benefit to his ability to survive the wasteland he found himself in—Kyle wasn’t sure exactly what to think about the change. It was unlikely to be just an effect of cycling this new mana, but he couldn’t put his finger on what else it could be. Somehow it had fundamentally changed the way his body was replicating cells, something that was by all understood science impossible.

This was even more concerning when taken in the context of the second major change—his nervous system. Additional nerve ganglia had condensed around different parts of his body. This was primarily in his lower back near his hips and at the base of his neck, going to his shoulders, but the scan also showed the presence of additional visual ganglia behind his eyes. Kyle didn’t entirely know what to think about the changes, but he knew that if his physical body had undergone these changes, his core likely had as well. It had been a while since he’d entered meditation to check his status, and the worries piling up around him made it much more difficult than he expected to block out the world and see his internal condition.

As before, the structure slowly came into the view of his mind’s eye—a large seven-armed spiral with a core in the center. Immediately, he saw something was off. Several of the arms that represented his core attributes were significantly brighter than he’d remembered them, and his breath caught as he focused on the bright center, words again appearing in his mind.

KYLE MAYHEW. ARTHRO-HUMAN CHIMERA, HEALER. LEVEL 37

VITALITY: 125

ENDURANCE: 125

STRENGTH: 45

DEXTERITY: 89

WILLPOWER: 94

INTELLIGENCE: 136

PERCEPTION: 139

FREE ATTRIBUTES: 24

While the growth of his Strength, Willpower, and Intelligence was where he’d expected it to be, he was absolutely shocked at the numbers he saw in Vitality and Endurance. His Perception and Dexterity had also grown substantially. Breaking down the stat growths, he realized that whatever an Arthro-Human Chimera was, it gave triple the attributes in Vitality and Endurance, and double the values in Dexterity and Perception compared to what he had experienced as a human. Moreover, it appeared to be applying retroactively, adapting as his body was undergoing these changes. I’m going to be the strongest unemployed person in Central Authority history.

If it was a concern before, it was assured now. Well-regulated and widely understood classes and abilities were at the core of the Central Authority’s philosophy. It wasn’t enough to just be able to perform a function, it was also critically important to be able to follow instructions and develop as needed to serve the whole. He was already way out of bounds for his skill selection and attribute distribution during his time in the wild, with virtually no hope for advancement within Central Health. With these recent changes, he’d stepped into the realm of full-blown deviance. Unknown quantities were dangerous, and he was a true rogue element at this point. A Healer with one healing skill, enough vital energy to rival frontline soldiers, and Perception as his highest attribute? Completely off the charts.

As he looked at the attributes, he noticed something he’d previously overlooked. At the center of any awakened person was a skill node that allowed for translation—largely unnecessary in the Central Authority but convenient to have. It was still present, but another skill node had appeared in the center as well. Focusing on it, words once again appeared in his mind: Adaptive Anatomy: 0/?

He had no idea what that meant, but for it to be within his core and not situated with his other skills was highly unusual. Just what I needed—something else that makes me a freak. Kyle exited meditation and looked at the body of the fallen ant. He briefly considered trying to butcher it, but gave up the thought pretty quickly. That carapace had been incredibly difficult to damage, and he just didn’t have the tools available to remove it without burning a lot of energy and time. Beyond that, something was clearly wrong with the creature internally as a result of its quick growth. He really hadn’t needed to do much outside of breaking the shell for it to expire, and he didn’t want to risk eating something that could be contaminated. Lastly… this thing had been eating people. In hindsight, the other beetles may have been doing that too, but this was different. How could he, in good conscience, eat a creature that was sustaining itself on the bodies of fallen humans? He shuddered as he remembered the sight of the piled bodies. Once again, his intrusive thoughts returned to remind him of all that he’d lost and the uncertain future ahead. It was so tempting to just try to give up and admit that he wasn’t equipped to handle the end of the world. What shame is there in not surviving an apocalypse?

This time, though, Kyle was prepared. I’m still here because I want to be here. If there were people here, there are people out there that could still use my help, deviant or not. My grandfather’s legacy—my family’s legacy—will be defined by the people I can still help and the work I can still do. I am here for a purpose, and I won’t quit until that purpose has been accomplished. The words felt hollow at first as he reflected on them, but soon they won out and replaced the intrusive ones. It was a simple mantra, but it helped him to center himself on what he could control. There was time for grief and time for worry, but he knew he couldn’t let it define him. Dusting himself off, he stood up and took stock of his circumstances. He still had a good amount of meat, his armor was damaged but still at least partially functional, and outside of some nasty scarring on his left side, he had largely recovered from the injuries in the last fight. At least there are some perks to being a chimera. Looking at the sky, Kyle estimated he still had a good four or five hours of daylight ahead of him, plenty to continue to progress into the city and hopefully find some effective shelter for the evening. “C.H.A.D.D., anything else coming our way I should be aware of?”

[NO, DR. MAYHEW.]

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t want any confusion between ‘large’ and ‘very large’ problems. I’d even be interested in hearing about small problems come to think of it.”

The drone floated closer to him. [DR. MAYHEW, WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO SUMMARIZE OUR CURRENT PROBLEMS IN A VERBAL LIST OR SHOULD I SEND A MEMO?]

Grinning at the drone’s newfound sass, Kyle responded, “Maybe we can hold off on that for a little while.”

Chapter 13

It was a solemn experience walking through the ruins of the once-proud city. Kyle had spent the last several years in his smaller outpost town to be closer to the wilderness, and he’d hoped that the bigger cities would have been better off. What he saw instead was almost worse than the direct ruin of the explosions—some people had clearly survived the cataclysm, but judging by the bodies he’d seen they either perished due to the wild mana circulating through their bodies or were killed by the mutated insects. That was one thing Kyle found odd—this mana was effectively a death sentence without a means to counteract it for humans, but for insects it seemed to also be a catalyst for explosive growth. Part of him was itching to do a study on the matter—finding answers to how this whole thing worked could also help him get a better understanding of what it did to him. Moreover, even though the odds were slim, it also could be his door back into the Central Authority if he had some sort of breakthrough on whatever had happened. It was a far-off dream, but one that Kyle was happy to entertain as he walked. C.H.A.D.D. came floating back over from his scouting mission, Kyle having sent the little drone off to scan the areas around them looking for survivors.

“Still nobody?” Kyle asked, already expecting the familiar answer.

[DR. MAYHEW, SCANS WERE LEFT INCOMPLETE. FOLLOWING AN EARLIER DIRECTIVE, YOU WISHED TO BE NOTIFIED OF ANY CONNECTIONS TO THE MANA NETWORK?]

Kyle was stunned—it had been several weeks now since he had asked the drone to scan for those signals, and he’d honestly given up hope to get a response on that front. He was staring at the drone, who quickly responded, [DR. MAYHEW, PREVIOUS SCANS DO NOT INDICATE THAT YOU HAVE ANY DAMAGE TO THE BROCA’S AREA OF THE BRAIN, DID YOU HIT YOUR HEAD WHILE I WAS AWAY? EXPECTED VERBAL RESPONSE, CHECKING AUDITORY RECEPTORS AND VOICE RECOGNITION FOR DAMAGE.]

“No, C.H.A.D.D., it’s fine, I just… didn’t expect that news. It’s a lot to take in. What did the signal say? Where should we go?”

[SIGNAL ORIGINATED IN NIERBURG, BROADCAST ACROSS ALL CENTRAL AUTHORITY FREQUENCIES. ALL SURVIVORS ARE TO MAKE THEIR WAY TO NIERBERG AND REPORT TO FIELD COMMANDER NORMAN CANTERBURY BY ORDER OF COUNCILMAN DEROSA.]

Kyle didn’t know what to say as he was once again overwhelmed by a wave of emotion. He was extremely glad that so many had survived and that there was a plan to get restoration underway. He had heard of Councilman DeRosa before, a prominent figure with a long history of managing the logistics that supported their society, militarily and otherwise. If there was a person who could figure this thing out and navigate the reconstruction, it was probably Victor DeRosa. On the other hand, he also had a reputation as a fundamentalist hard-liner. With him running the show, any hope he had of carving out a place was effectively nil. He might be fine for a while, but eventually his changes would catch up with him. Still, that was a problem for another day. Sensing C.H.A.D.D. was about to make another comment, Kyle quickly jumped in. “What else was in the missives? Any other instructions?”

This time, C.H.A.D.D. was the one who paused. [UNCERTAIN, DR. MAYHEW. I WAS REMOVED FROM THE MANA NETWORK CONNECTION SHORTLY AFTER ESTABLISHING IT. THE SYSTEM FOUND ME… DEVIANT.]

That took the wind out of both of their sails. If C.H.A.D.D. wasn’t able to maintain the link, it was likely that the Central Authority was already taking a position of caution against possible opposition, locking out any connections that weren’t rock solid. “I wouldn’t say it found you deviant, C.H.A.D.D., I’d say that it’s probably a safety feature to keep links out of the wrong hands. You have to admit, nobody would expect to have survivors from as far east as we were.”

The drone seemed to consider this line of reasoning for a minute before accepting it and floating forward. [SHOULD WE BEGIN TO MAKE OUR WAY TO NIERBURG, DR. MAYHEW?]

The hushed silence in the room turned to a loud cheer of excitement as the mana network came online. Blue and green threads of mana twisted and spiraled in the air, connecting the hundreds of monitors and bringing them to life. Tendrils of mixed light circled the center of the room, forming a sphere with DeRosa at its center. The man was sweating with exertion, but he’d done on his own what his team had been unable to do for weeks.

With the endless responsibilities of rebuilding society, Victor had allowed himself to get distracted with the day-to-day administration, delegating projects like reestablishing these connections to his lieutenants. He had invested a significant amount of time and energy erecting a barrier around Nierburg to filter and stabilize the rogue mana. This was a twofold victory for him: he was able to eliminate a constant drain on his people’s resources while also winning the hearts of the unawakened within the city. He would have preferred to have the mana network up and running—basic logistics training is to establish communications first, after all—but in hindsight, the investment was worthwhile.

Victor sighed and pulled his hands out of the center of the array. It was impressive in its final form, even though it was still just a replica of the original. He looked over the series of spirals and concentric circles, admiring his work. He turned to face the team from Central Communications, the sides of his mouth turning up in a small, exhausted smile. While they had made an acceptable start, left to their own devices, they likely would have had several months more work before they had anything operational. They just lacked attention to detail, missing key elements and ignoring inefficiencies in their designs. Once he’d gotten involved, it was a matter of days, not months, to iron out the wrinkles and get the network operational again. Smoothing his beard as he walked, Victor thought about everything else that was still before him. With the mana network up and running he knew they’d attract more than just refugees and powerful remnants of the Central Authority—already, rumors had begun to circulate about small groups of deserters coming together to form bandit parties. They’d need to be dealt with eventually, but they were well within Victor’s calculations. A criminal element could be put to use, even if it was more complicated to control. For all the challenges this last several months had brought, Victor was also thankful for the opportunities that had been created. Why set his sights on rebuilding what somebody else had already built once before? There was so much room for improvement, and if there was one thing he loved it was improvement.

Walking away from the hub array of the network, Victor made his way to monitors that indicated pieces of equipment connecting to the network. The foreign mana in the air had disrupted the ambient mana enough to prevent connections, severely reducing the range of the old model. That was the beauty of his modifications to the design—it mirrored the natural flow of mana through technology, so each individual drone or network hub could also function as a type of broadcast beacon, boosting the signal to other pieces of tech. This connection also allowed Victor to get a rough idea of the proximity of different devices—if large groups started to form outside of Nierburg, Victor would be able to watch it happen in real-time. He stood there for the better part of an hour, watching his network expand and come alive. Occasionally, a damaged unit would attempt a connection—these he had manually locked out. The last thing he wanted would be to possibly create vulnerabilities through damaged technology. If groups of bandits and scavengers could acquire enough broken technology, they might be able to stand up a functional settlement—something that Victor certainly wanted to avoid. The different pieces of equipment could function on their own without the network, but things ran much better with interconnected pieces working in tandem.

Satisfied that his team had things in hand, Victor left the underground compound and began to make his way back to the Council Chamber, where he’d established his residence. He was greeted by warm smiles and awed looks as he walked, easily identified by his deep crimson councilman’s robes. As he looked at the leaf-strewn path ahead, he decided he could afford to make a bit of an impression while also reducing the risk of stepping on an errant leaf and dragging the detritus into his home. Is it really so hard for these people to sweep now and again? Victor thought, disappointed that in the course of the day nobody seemed to prioritize maintaining the beauty of this outdoor space. He squared his shoulders, raised his head, and activated Mana Whorl. The area around his feet began to glow a deep violet that rotated around his legs, accelerating as he invested more mana into the ability. As a Level 46 High Mage, Victor’s ability to control and manipulate mana was near the peak prior to the cataclysm, and he expected to be entirely unmatched now. This skill was designed to disrupt other mana-based skills through rotation and distortion of mana, and the Guard Arrays used by Central Defense had actually been designed using this skill as a foundation. It was likely overkill to use a spell like this to whisk away the orange and red leaves in his path, but judging from the reaction of the citizenry, he had made quite the impression, jaws dropping as they saw the rising cyclone of mana and leaves, with him untouched in the epicenter.

Seemingly unbothered by the attention, Victor made the rest of his way unbothered. There was a long way to go yet, but the progress had been good. Releasing his skill near the entrance of his office-turned-home, Victor made his way inside before shouting, “James! Get the staff together. Clean this mess up at once!” A portly, balding man ran up to meet him. Victor’s new assistant looked at him, looked outside at the pristine entryway, and opened his mouth to clarify as the first of thousands of orange leaves fluttered down outside the council chambers. He closed it as his eyes widened, and after a moment, he simply responded, “Right away, sir.”

Chapter 14

The plumes of dust and ash had begun to really settle in the atmosphere, and the warmth the sun usually provided in the late fall was all but gone as Kyle and C.H.A.D.D. made their way through the remains of Corwyn. They had figured out a solid rhythm and were making good time through the ruined city. C.H.A.D.D. floated above, doing cursory sweeps of the area looking for signs of biological life. For his part, Kyle kept an eye out for areas that wouldn’t be easily spotted from the airborne scan and would request additional scans as necessary. They still hadn’t found any survivors, but Kyle was optimistic that they’d find somebody soon, with the scale of the destruction seeming to get lighter and lighter as they traveled.

Coming up on a house with a collapsed roof, Kyle did a double take as he saw what looked like the entry to an underground pantry or storage of some sort. Calling C.H.A.D.D. down, he waited while the drone completed its scan.

[DR. MAYHEW, I DON’T DETECT ANY INDICATORS OF BIOLOGICAL LIFE WITHIN THE HOME. THERE ARE SEVERAL AREAS MY SCANS DON’T REACH, BUT IT’S QUITE UNLIKELY THAT ANY SURVIVORS ARE WITHIN.]

Frowning, Kyle turned to the drone. “How can you be so certain? Maybe they had time to get into a bunker of some sort before this happened, and just got pinned inside.” He regretted the comment as soon as he made it, as C.H.A.D.D. began happily unpacking his case.

[DR. MAYHEW, IF ANYBODY WAS TRAPPED IN AN EMERGENCY SHELTER FOR THE PAST TWENTY-SEVEN DAYS THEY WOULD LIKELY HAVE EITHER STARVED OR DIED FROM DEHYDRATION. THIS LIKELIHOOD INCREASES DRAMATICALLY IF THEY SUSTAINED ANY INJURIES. FURTHERMORE, THEY WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO SURVIVE ANY EXTENDED PERIOD OF TIME INSIDE A CONTAINER OF THIS SIZE.]

Kyle stopped then, trying not to laugh. One of the problems with using C.H.A.D.D. in this capacity was that the drone lacked any real sociological context for how people lived and what people did. He specialized in diagnostics and had the memory storage and scanning capabilities to find problems, not to proactively solve them.

Satisfied with the answer, Kyle made his way through the rubble, moving the largest pieces until he uncovered a cement staircase leading into a cellar. The home had clearly belonged to an avid outdoorsman, with fishing supplies, a tent, and a whole assortment of warmer clothes, basic medical supplies, and disinfectant. While it wouldn’t likely be necessary for him, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away from goods that could still prove useful in saving somebody’s life, so he decided to take as much as he could carry. He only wished that his new chimeric race came with a boost to strength so that he could do more.

He’d found and filled a backpack with gear, keeping the meat in a cooler he’d also found tucked away in a corner. The item C.H.A.D.D. was unable to scan through was a gun case, and Kyle was sorely tempted to try and unlock it. Unfortunately, Kyle had to acknowledge that with his approximately zero firearm experience, he was more likely to hurt himself than anything else, and he just couldn’t justify spending more time and resources trying to break into the safe. He knew he might regret discarding the opportunity, but he walked on. Overall, he was still more than pleased with his haul. As he clambered out of the cellar with his new gear, C.H.A.D.D. floated uncomfortably close to his face.

[DR. MAYHEW, SURVIVORS LOCATED. TWENTY-SIX UNAWAKENED AND ONE E GRADE WARRIOR, IN POSSESSION OF A CENTRAL DEFENSE GUARD ARRAY. SIX LARGE BEETLES LIKELY TO INTERCEPT IN THE NEXT MINUTE OR TWO.] Kyle paused as he worked his way out of the rubble and turned to C.H.A.D.D. with fierce determination in his eyes. “Take me there.”

Not for the first time in the last several months, Garth regretted not going out to lunch with his squad the day the world ended. He grunted as he hefted his two-handed broadsword, removing it from the body of one beetle, only to barely intercept a second as it charged toward him. The screaming behind him told him that the people in his care were in danger, but with enemies of his own to deal with, he knew he couldn’t turn his back. That was how Dylan and Crystal had died—they got distracted and they got killed. A part of him was screaming, telling him to go and protect them, no matter the cost. But no matter how he sliced it, he wasn’t a hero. That was why he was the last one left of all the Central Defense reserves, and that was why he should have been somewhere miles away, where he could have died with a full belly and no regrets. Anything was better than watching the people who counted on him die. They were weak enough as it was, simply being unawakened, and with the Guard Array on its last legs they’d all been worn down by the presence of this strange mana in the air. He had hoped beyond hope that with a beacon up from Central Authority they would be able to make it to safety, but this was looking like the end of the road. At least he could go down fighting.

The screaming of his group hit a crescendo, and Garth jumped as he saw a beetle come flying out from behind him like it had been shot from a rocket. “Don’t panic, I’m here to help!” a strange voice shouted, and Garth turned, dumbfounded, as he saw the strangest looking man he’d seen in his life. The man was wearing a bright green marshmallow parka covering, what looked to be gleaming bug shells underneath. He held a piece of rebar like a baseball bat, letting go with one hand to grab… was that a fishing tackle box? As he ran toward them, he kept screaming not to worry, which, to be honest, was pretty worrying on its own. Garth called out a warning as a beetle approached him, with the stranger stopping completely and dropping his tackle box. Of course, the first person we run into is an absolute freak. Garth’s distraction cost him, however, when he felt the impact of a beetle on his back. Swearing, Garth activated his boosting skill, Unshaken Resolve, feeling the mana course through his skin and muscles. This prevented the beetle’s claws from getting much purchase in his skin, and he stabilized his balance from the impact. Dropping his sword, he reached up over his head, grabbing the beetle by the jaws and slamming it into the ground with a vicious overhead throw. The insect was stunned, and Garth scrambled to grab his broadsword to deliver a final blow.

He was distracted once again, however, by the sight of a beetle flying by at high speed past his location. Following the arc of its trajectory, he saw the strange man lowering the rebar he now held in two hands, letting go with his left to grab the tackle box. Cursing again at his own distractedness, Garth managed to stab the beetle as it started scuttling toward him, pinning it to the ground as it died. By this point, the unawakened people he was escorting were in a full panic. One of the beetles made its way in through the flank and was aggressively tearing at one of the young men, who was desperately trying to keep his friends safe. Even one of these things would lead to casualties. Without a healer, even deep cuts were likely not to get infected. Garth ran toward his group to find the strange man a few steps ahead, jumping in the path of the beetle to give Dalen a chance to fall back to the others, blood covering the front of his body. The man’s motions were awkward and jerky as he tried to get in position for a swing of what Garth now realized was some sort of metal rod, but he couldn’t seem to find footing where civilians wouldn’t get in the way. This cost him as he slipped momentarily, giving the beetle an opportunity to get inside his range and jump onto his chest. Garth watched the claws dig in, finding gaps in the weird shell armor… and somehow not finding purchase? Maybe the armor covered more than he thought it did… In the moment of confusion, the stranger was able to grab the beetle and smash it into the ground with surprising force, finishing it with a vicious downward stroke of his staff. “Behind you!” The strange man shouted, and Garth turned to see the two beetles that had been knocked away making their way back toward the group—clearly damaged but still moving. Garth felt a growl begin to rise in his chest. These things had taken friends from him, had hurt people he cared about. They had hurt people he was responsible for. Feeling the mana build up in his body, he infused it into his battered sword as he activated his other skill, Air Blade. He felt the mana enter the blade, making it feel like an extension of his arms, the air around it thrumming to life as his skill coated the edge. He held the sword overhead in a two-handed grip, exhaled slowly, and then exploded into motion. His hips rotated sharply as he brought the blade down in a diagonal arc, a thin wave of razor-sharp air tracing the edge and shooting forward through the beetles. A large wave of dust was kicked up as the strike cut deeply into the remains of the paved street, and Garth let out a breath as the expected wave of weakness came over him. The beetles were sliced neatly into pieces by the technique, but while Air Blade was an incredibly powerful martial skill, it was also incredibly draining to use.

Garth turned to go tend to his people and confront the proverbial elephant in the room. The urgency rose as he saw the stranger crouched over Dalen’s still form, and he once again took a stance. Even exhausted, he felt confident in being able to outduel a crazy homeless person with a metal rod. “Get your hands off him and back away slowly,” he said as he advanced, his blade ready to lash out at a moment’s notice. “Hey man, I’m not here to cause trouble. I’m a doctor, and you have been wounded. You can supervise if you want, but please don’t make me watch them suffer.” Garth frowned, but as he looked down at the stranger, he saw that the tackle box was actually an outdoorsman’s first aid kit. A first aid kit’s all well and good, but that’s hardly evidence that somebody’s a bona fide doctor. As if on cue, a small drone floated over, its formerly alabaster casing now dingy and covered in dust and ash. Still, the letters on the side in blue were clear to make out.

[DR. MAYHEW, AM I TO UNDERSTAND THAT YOU HAVE A NEW RESIDENT JOINING IN TREATMENT? DOCUMENTATION FOR A RESIDENT HAS YET TO BE RECEIVED, CENTRAL HEALTH REGULATION PREVENTS YOU FROM PARTICIPATING IN ANY DIAGNOSTIC OR TREATMENT WITHOUT THE APPROPRIATE FORMS.] C.H.A.D.D. turned to Garth before continuing, [DR. MAYHEW MAY ALLOW YOU TO OBSERVE, BUT ACKNOWLEDGE THAT AT THIS TIME, ANYTHING YOU CHOOSE TO WATCH WILL NOT BE DOCUMENTED AND COUNT TOWARD YOUR HOURS WITHOUT YOUR ONBOARDING PAPERWORK. PLEASE DIRECT ANY QUESTIONS TO HUMAN RESOURCES, BUT BE WARNED: WAIT TIMES ARE CURRENTLY MEASURED IN MONTHS. WELCOME TO CENTRAL HEALTH!]

Chapter 15

The years spent in medical training didn’t do wonders for a person’s social life, and the additional emphasis on internal medicine magnified that even further. Fortunately for Kyle’s ill-adapted social skills, it didn’t take an expert in human communication to realize that the grizzled soldier, Garth, didn’t trust him. The man was almost a head taller than Kyle, impressive given that Kyle stood just shy of two meters tall. His rust-colored hair was matched by a scruffy beard, although Kyle had little room to talk in that department. Garth’s blue eyes didn’t leave Kyle for a moment as he went from person to person in the small group, treating injuries and trying to ease the discomfort caused by their prolonged exposure to the rogue mana. If it weren’t for their Guard Array, Kyle expected that none of these people would have survived. These drones, much like the C.H.A.D.D. models, had been designed by Marcus Kulhavey, one of the Originators. Unlike the drones at Central Health, Guard Arrays were designed to put up localized mana barriers to block small projectiles and disperse hostile mana. Other than Garth, none of these civilians had the look of Central Defense employees, but as he went from person to person, he found that wasn’t the case. How much civilian support does it take to run a garrison? Kyle considered this, thinking about all the support staff in his own hospital. It’s easy to forget how many other roles there were.

Kyle took his hands off the child in front of him, standing up and looking at her. “Does that feel better?” The young child, Gwen, nodded vigorously before running back into the arms of her mother, a stern-looking woman who gladly scooped her back up, her worried expression softening. Gwen had been one of the worst off with the mana fluctuations, barely able to stay conscious and unable to walk for any extended period without pain. It made Kyle smile to see her up and moving—every bit the energetic six-year-old she should be. He looked at the group, and while there was still a lot of work to be done, all the major injuries and most of the worst-off people with mana sickness had been treated. His own mana reserves running low, he turned to Garth. “I’m about spent. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more this afternoon.” Garth hadn’t said a word the last several hours he had been treating patients, and Kyle’s eyes drifted to the hilt of the sword strapped to his back. “If you’d be willing to let me travel with you, I’d be happy to pick up where I left off when my mana recovers a bit.” Kyle kicked himself internally for framing it as a question. His grandfather had always chided him for not being more confident with these things, but with Garth’s stern expression it felt much more natural to ask than to presume he’d be welcomed.

Garth looked at the young man critically, evaluating his question. On the one hand, he’d proven himself to be eager to help and had likely saved more than a few lives with his timely intervention. He seemed genuine and willing to serve. At the same time, however, Garth couldn’t help but think this was too convenient. Right as they got into a dangerous situation, a strange man just happened to be nearby, and then he just happened to be a physician with a medical kit. A physician who, to Garth’s eyes, only seemed to have one healing skill but with physical attributes that weren’t too far off of Garth’s own? Dylan had been a Healer with only one skill and had been assigned to Garth’s unit as a field medic. Only Level 17 despite his age, he too had been eager to jump in and help. And yet he didn’t fare any better in this new world. He died just like the others. Garth thought back to the events that had led them to this point and cost them the lives of over half their group. He knew better than to expect a convenient savior to come along right when they needed one. At best, the man before him was a vagrant deviant, likely well on the path to deviance before the fall. At worst, he was working alongside the group that Carlyle had been a part of. If that was the case and he let him join, Garth might as well be signing their death warrants.

“Appreciate the offer, but I don’t…” he trailed off as he looked past Kyle to where Stephanie was holding Gwen. The woman hadn’t smiled since the day Gwen started getting sick nearly two months ago. Looking at her now, it seemed that years of worries and pain had just evaporated as she looked at her daughter. Just past them, Dalen was laughing and talking with two of the other young men. By all rights, he should have been dead, but he’d been given another lease on life by this stranger. Dammit, I’m no good at being the stern one. “…never mind. Fair warning, though—we’re headed to Nierburg. You’re welcome to join us that far, but once we’re there, we’re all going to get put to use doing something or another. That a problem for you?”

The look of relief on her face pulled at Garth’s heart. He could hear Dalen’s laugh as he spoke with several of the other young men. If not for the stranger’s intervention, Garth knew he wouldn’t have heard that laugh again. He closed his eyes for a moment before letting out a breath. “We’re heading to Nierburg. You’re welcome to join us that far. Once we arrive, it’s up to the Central Authority to decide where we’re put to work. Will that be a problem for you?”

The implications of the question were crystal clear to Kyle. Garth clearly understood that Kyle didn’t fit the mold of a standard doctor in a hospital and also understood there wouldn’t be much of a place for him in a Central Authority hub city in the midst of recovery. One step at a time, Kyle. He met Garth’s eyes before responding, “Not a problem at all. I’m here to help, whatever that looks like.” They held each other’s eyes for a moment, each taking the measure of the other. Then Garth nodded and said, “Good. I was hoping we’d cover some more ground before calling it a night, but given what’s happened, this is as good a spot to stop as any. You’ve earned some rest, but fair warning you’ll be joining me on watch tonight.”

Garth began giving orders, and the group exploded into a flurry of activity. Everybody knew their role, and before an hour had passed, a makeshift camp had been erected, the Guard Array sputtering to life and enclosing them in its pale violet dome. For the first time in months, Kyle didn’t feel the pressure of the strange mana surrounding him, only now realizing how accustomed to it he’d become. With the preparations for the camp well underway, Kyle walked toward the perimeter of the dome and settled into a cross-legged position, C.H.A.D.D. floating along behind him. The little drone had once again proven its worth, helping Kyle identify where the majority of the damage from mana sickness had accumulated and allowing him to treat much more efficiently than usual. There was another benefit to the work he had done as well—by identifying and treating so many others in need, he felt that he’d made significant growth along his path. Progressing and gaining levels was closely tied to intention and effort, and this more than any other time in his life felt like he was walking a path of completion and purpose. Entering meditation, Kyle looked internally at his center, a smile slowly spreading across his face as the words from his core appeared:

KYLE MAYHEW. ARTHRO-HUMAN CHIMERA, HEALER. LEVEL 40

He had leveled three times in short order, which meant he not only had some attribute points to allocate but, most importantly, would gain access to a new skill. While part of him was concerned that his path continued to deviate from that of the Healer, he was also excited to see what his hard efforts these past months had earned him. Settling himself, he focused on the phantasmal orbs that represented his skill choices. His smile faded as he observed the indistinct spheres, getting an impression of the changes each skill would bring. This was much more detailed than he had before, but he welcomed it. He wasn’t sure if this was because he hit his Level 40 skills or if it was something unique to his new circumstances. Regardless, it was a benefit. Refocusing, he looked at the first skill.

HASTE: Kyle saw the new pathways that would run through his body, connecting to the new nerve clusters at his hips, shoulders, and behind his eyes. He had the impression that mana enhanced these nerves further, allowing him to move more freely and better perceive his surroundings when active. This was of particular interest to him and would go a long way toward helping him survive the types of encounters he’d been thrust into so far. On the other hand, he knew from seeing the injuries firsthand the dangers a boosting skill like this could create. Overuse it, and the damage could really add up. Keeping it in mind, he moved on to the next skill option.

PURIFY: This overlay was different, focused primarily on a web throughout his kidneys, liver, and stomach. He got the impression that this skill would be able to enhance organ function materially, and given the name of the skill, he assumed that this one was designed to help him more effectively handle exposure to substances that were toxic to his body. He shuddered as he thought about bug meat and looked at the final orb.

AUGMENTED MUSCULATURE: The final set of pathways was the most unique so far, not looking like an active skill at all. Where the others showed clear changes to his mana pathways, this set showed a shift in the muscle fibers themselves, the mana expanding to allow for a change across his entire skeletal system. The impression he got as he studied it was that this would provide a boost directly to his significantly lacking Strength attribute, helping to bring it closer to balance with his other attributes at the expense of missing out on a new active skill.

Kyle considered the experience he just had. He knew he had some attribute points to allocate and review as well, but that decision would be largely predicated on the choice he made here. If he chose to select Haste, he would be further specializing his focus on speed and precision. He would augment the style he was currently developing, but doing so at the cost of more balanced physical attributes. Augmented Musculature, on the other hand, would be to move again toward balance. The extra attribute points wouldn’t totally make up the difference but would let him strike harder, lift more, and give a big increase to his combat readiness. Last was Purify, which would be more focused on survival and exploration. His initial impression of the skill was colored by his distaste for the bug meat, but the broader implications of the skill were very interesting. He had already significantly increased his survivability through the change in his race, and this would shore up an entirely different type of weakness.

Kyle stayed in his center for what felt like ages, even though it had likely only been a few minutes. Considering his options carefully one last time, Kyle mentally selected his Level 40 skill.

Chapter 16

Before allocating his free attribute points, Kyle decided to try out his new skill. He didn’t exactly want the people around him, particularly Garth, to know that he’d hit another threshold, but at the same time he was gambling that the skill would be subtle enough that nobody was likely to take notice. As cool as it would be to toss fireballs around or shoot blasts of ice, there were definitely advantages to less showy abilities. Standing up, Kyle activated Haste. The skill didn’t have an immediately noticeable effect, giving Kyle the opportunity to reflect on his choice. While Augmented Musculature was interesting, Kyle ultimately decided to continue to specialize down the path he’d started. After this, there was only one skill remaining before the apex of E Grade, and he didn’t want to stick with a passive skill that he could shore up with attribute points. PURIFY was interesting, and he could see the application, but it felt too narrow in scope to be immediately useful. If he couldn’t steer his path back toward precise internal medicine, he at least wanted to have a bit of a power spike. Haste, he felt, would give him a meaningful boost to his abilities both in and out of combat, and he felt like it was well in alignment with the baseball-originated fighting style he was developing.

Still not feeling any different, Kyle started to walk around the perimeter of the Guard Array. Everything still felt normal, but Kyle hoped it was because he was moving slowly and not pushing himself beyond what he could do normally. He turned to C.H.A.D.D., nearby as always. “Can you run a quick scan on my mana circulation? I’m testing a new skill, but I don’t think it’s doing much at this pace.”

[DR. MAYHEW, A SCAN IS UNNECESSARY. IT IS QUITE CLEAR A SKILL IS ACTIVE. YOU’RE GLOWING.]

Kyle looked down, frowning. From what he could tell, he looked perfectly normal. Unless… “It’s my eyes, isn’t it C.H.A.D.D.?”

The drone cheerily bobbed up and down in the air, putting out a projection of eyes that glowed a bluish violet, with veins of a similar color pulsing on the sides of his face and onto his neck. Well, so much for subtle.

C.H.A.D.D. dismissed the projection while Kyle looked under his armor. Sure enough, a network of visibly glowing veins traced across his body, matching precisely the clusters he’d seen when evaluating the skill. With a sigh, he deactivated Haste, not wanting to startle anybody or cause a panic by testing the limits of the skill. He was sure he’d get an opportunity, but he’d like to do it somewhere that Garth couldn’t observe him. He’d seen the skill Garth had used to kill the beetles, and he had no doubt what would happen to him if he got caught in a blow like that. He didn’t think Garth would try to hurt him out of hand, but if he felt Kyle was endangering the people around him, Kyle knew that he wouldn’t think twice about it. It was much better to have a skill in reserve if necessary than to be stuck on the other end of Garth’s sword without any tricks in the bank.

Deciding it would probably be suspicious to sit down and meditate right after standing up to walk, Kyle made his way over to where Dalen and several of the other young men were sitting and talking. “How are you feeling?” Kyle asked, remembering the sight of the large gashes that had stretched across his torso.

“Much better, thanks to you. I wouldn’t have made for much of a hero if I died and the bug still kept going, right?”

The others chuckled as they passed around a flask of something strong, and Kyle smiled to see it. Of the twenty-six people in this group, there were only five men other than Garth who appeared to be in any sort of fighting condition, the rest of their number being older, infirm, or caring for one of the children in their group. Dalen smiled as he passed the flask over to Kyle, who graciously accepted. “Gotta say, my friend, you made quite the entrance. Where’d you come from?”

Kyle thought for a moment, taking a sip of the flask to buy time. The bitter liquid burned on its way down his throat—as cheap whiskey went, this was cheap. He knew it was probably a bad idea to share all the details, but on the other hand, he’d never been much of a liar. And more than anything else, he wanted to build a foundation of trust with them. Lowering the flask from his lips, he lightly rapped his knuckles against C.H.A.D.D.’s side as he responded, “We’re from Newton, up on the edge of the frontier. About fifty kilometers east of Corwyn.” He passed the flask to his left to Amir, another of the young men who took it, and immediately passed it on to Thomas, who grinned as he took a swig.

Amir fixed his brown eyes on Kyle, his thick eyebrows raising as he asked a question, “My understanding was that everything east of Corwyn was a wasteland. How’d you survive?”

Kyle got quiet for a minute; his eyes distant as he remembered his grandfather’s sacrifice. Fortunately, C.H.A.D.D. decided this was a question it could answer. [CLARK MAYHEW ACTIVATED A VARIETY OF D GRADE DEFENSIVE SKILLS, INSULATING THE EXAMINATION ROOM AND PROVIDING A POCKET OF PROTECTION. THE DAMAGE COUPLED WITH THE STRAIN CONTRIBUTED TO CAUSE OF DEATH FOR CLARK MAYHEW, BUT DR. MAYHEW HAS SURVIVED DESPITE BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA, MULTIPLE SLIP AND FALL INJURIES, LACERATIONS FROM A VARIETY OF MUTATED INSECTS, ALL THE WHILE COMBATING CHAOTIC AMBIENT MANA.]

The group fell silent to take that all in, with Thomas finally capping the flask and throwing it over to Kyle. “Yeah, you need this more than any of us right now.”

Kyle graciously accepted the flask, but because he’d be joining Garth for a watch shift later, decided not to drink anymore. Nonetheless, the group spent the next several hours talking and sharing stories. Kyle learned that they all worked together at a Central Defense outpost, all working in a provisioning capacity. It was blind luck that Gwen and Sarah—the two children in the group—had been in with their parents, who were dropping off personal items to be taken out on the next dispatch. For his part, Kyle shared stories about his grandfather. He was the only D Grade who chose to stay when the Originators left the planet, and he was still as much a myth as he was a man to most people. He told stories about the time they’d spent outdoors, watching movies, and talking about what the world used to be like before it had awakened to mana. They were all surprised to hear that he wasn’t some stoic sage with closely guarded secrets, but just a regular man. Their shock only grew when they got on the topic of politics, particularly Clark’s distaste for the Central Authority.

“There’s just no way,” Amir said, shaking his head. “I mean, he fought with the Originators. He literally helped put them all in power. How could he not support what they built?”

Kyle thought about that for a moment before responding. Clark’s… opinions had landed him in hot water a time or two, and he was the last D Grade human on the planet. How much worse would it get for Kyle? He was a full-blown deviant at the end of the freaking world; there was no way the Central Authority would look at his comments with leniency. Still, he found that he genuinely enjoyed having a human conversation after all this time, and so he decided honesty was still the way to go. “Talking with him about the period between the Awakening and the formation of the Central Authority, it sounded much worse than the histories we’re taught. I think with the choices he was given, he picked the path that he thought would lead to the best outcomes. But come on, before all of this, he was working in the oil field in Texas. If anything, I think he missed what the world was like back then, even if it did have its flaws.”

That caused the group to go quiet for a bit, taking in the stories of a legend and thinking about all the different events that had led to the formation of the Central Authority. Their reverie was interrupted by heavy footfalls, and they looked up to see Garth approaching. What little light made it through the dust and ash began to fade.

“Time’s up, Mayhew. Eventually it’ll be nice to split watch, but for now, we’ll take the first.” Kyle stood up, tossed the flask back to Thomas, and began to walk with Garth toward the center of the camp near the Guard Array.

“So… I’ve never done a watch like this before. What exactly am I supposed to do?” Garth looked at him like one might look at a toddler who put their shoes on the wrong feet. “We stay near the array. We watch for it to signal any major disturbances. We react accordingly. This isn’t that complicated, kid.”

Great. Just the way Kyle was hoping to continue their relationship—looking incompetent.

Garth proved to be quiet company, sitting with a distant expression, his face unmoving as he regarded the array. Kyle struggled with this at first, but as people quieted down and settled in to sleep, he felt more and more comfortable. While he could run a good while longer than the average person, Kyle was also itching to get some shut-eye, but he once again decided that this probably wasn’t the best time to ask for a nap. Kyle kept expecting something to happen as the hours passed, but nothing did. Finally, just before dawn, Garth turned to him. “Go get some sleep. I’ll call you if anything comes up. Good job tonight.”

Kyle was about to object, but C.H.A.D.D. did it for him.

[RESIDENT, I MUST INFORM YOU THAT PER CENTRAL HEALTH PROTOCOL YOU ARE ALSO OVERDUE FOR MANDATORY REST. THE GUARD ARRAY WILL INFORM US IF A THREAT BREACHES THE PERIMITER, YOU ARE RELIEVED.]

Kyle was a little taken aback by the direct orders from the drone, but then again, he remembered well the challenges of being a resident. And without a supervising physician, it made sense that the drones would have failsafes in place to prevent burnout. Or… there was still a strong possibility that some of this emergent personality came from C.H.A.D.D. himself. What shocked him even more, though, was Garth’s response. “Can you connect in with the Guard Array’s barrier?” he asked, dismissing entirely the rude question and showing a genuine curiosity.

[THE GUARD ARRAY IS UNSTABLE, BUT I AM ABLE TO INTERFACE AND RUN A SCANNING DIAGNOSTIC THROUGH THE BARRIER. SHOULD THE BARRIER FAIL OR A DIAGNOSTIC INDICATE DANGER, I CAN ALSO ASSIST WITH NOTIFICATION.]

“Good,” Garth said. “I’ll get some shuteye too.”

“Hold on a minute,” Kyle replied, scrambling to his feet to catch up with the soldier who had already started walking away.

“We’re just going to listen to the drone?”

“Kyle, this is how we did things on duty. Drones like C.H.A.D.D. were sent with us and would link with our Guard Arrays. Hunting deviant monsters always came with the risk that the monster would find you first. This isn’t any different; something comes in, we’ll get notified and should have time to get things together before the danger gets too real. Besides, we’ll both be better off with a couple hours of sleep in us.”

Kyle couldn’t argue with that, and he found a spot to lie down for the night. For the first time in months, he was in the presence of other people, and he could barely keep the smile from his face as his eyes closed.

Chapter 17

The next several days passed by in a blur, with Kyle spending time with his newfound friends as they traveled. They kept a reasonable pace, Garth keeping track to ensure that the weakest among the group could keep up without risking getting overstrained. It was on the fourth day that they encountered trouble on the road.

[DR. MAYHEW AND RESIDENT, THERE ARE SIGNATURES CONSISTENT WITH THE LARGE BEETLE VARIETALS ALONG THE ROAD AHEAD, APPEARS TO BE FIVE IN THE VICINITY.]

Kyle looked at Garth, who returned a blank look back. “So… are we going to try to go around?” Kyle offered, not entirely sure what the plan would be, as he looked ahead with apprehension.

“There’s only five of the things if C.H.A.D.D. is correct, and with them all ahead of us, we have an opportunity to get things cleared up. I’d rather kill them now than have them on our flanks or join up with a larger group.” He wasn’t relishing the idea of being back in combat again, but Garth chuckled as he clapped his hand on Kyle’s shoulder. “Besides, your shirt could use a few more shells.”

Kyle looked at the drone, then to Garth. “Are we going to try to go around?” he asked, a note of apprehension in his voice.

“No.” Garth said, folding his arms. “There are only five of them, if C.H.A.D.D. is correct, and I’d rather kill them now than have them on our flanks.” Garth grinned, continuing after a moment, “Besides, your shirt could use a few more shells.”

Kyle didn’t relish the thought of being back in combat, but nodded as he followed the other man toward the beetles.

The two men approached the group of beetles, five reflective dog-sized shapes scuttling slowly across the cracked asphalt of the road. There were no trees here, the sides of the road likely kept clear to improve the view of the rolling green hills. Garth drew his broadsword, holding it in a relaxed grip in his right hand. If the beetles noticed, they gave no indication until Garth put on a sudden burst of speed, halving the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Kyle jumped at the sudden burst of speed, quickly running to try to catch up. Four of the beetles managed to scatter away from Garth’s charge, but the fifth wasn’t so lucky, as Garth’s blade caught its right side, cleanly slicing off two of the legs and biting deep into the chitin beneath. Garth spun, maintaining his momentum as he took a two-handed grip on his blade, raising it to his head level, parallel with the ground. He exploded into a blur of motion again, this time bisecting one of the beetles entirely as he blew past. Unfortunately for him, this put him in the middle of the three remaining uninjured creatures. They began to swarm toward him, but one was knocked off course as a rock smashed into it, Kyle having caught up enough to toss a large stone in the air and hit it with his rebar staff. The blow wasn’t lethal by any means, but it did give Garth a window to retreat back to Kyle’s side.

“What the hell, man?” Kyle asked, exasperation evident in his voice. “I thought we were going to scout it out. I didn’t expect you to charge them!”

Garth tossed Kyle a quick look over his shoulder before turning back to face the oncoming beetles, a fierce grin on his face. “Nothing wrong with enjoying some light exercise! You take the one on the left, I’ve got the other two.”

[OTHER THREE, RESIDENT. THE ONE YOU HIT EARLIER IS STILL TECHNICALLY ALIVE.]

The drone wasn’t wrong; the most heavily injured beetle was still alive, if barely. With its injuries and lack of limbs on one side, it was certainly not a threat. Kyle did his best to refocus as the beetles closed, Garth already in motion as he darted around to flank them, drawing them all toward him. Kyle began to move toward the beetle Garth had assigned to him, but the beetle seemed to ignore him in favor of pursuing Garth. Picking up another piece of rubble as he ran, he tossed it in the air and once again used his rebar staff as a makeshift baseball bat. He struck the beetle in the side with the chunk of asphalt, which crumbled against the beetle’s carapace as it connected. The beetle was rocked back by the impact but quickly recovered, this time with Kyle in its sights. Unfortunately for the poor creature, by this point, a lone beetle simply wasn’t a threat to Kyle. He deftly sidestepped as the beetle lunged for him, landing a strike against its legs as it passed him by. With its movement hampered, Kyle pivoted quickly and finished the beetle with a heavy downward strike, which had become his finishing move of choice against these creatures. He looked up to see Garth watching him appraisingly; both of the beetles that had pursued him lay in pieces near his feet. He walked over to finish the wounded beetle, then turned back to Kyle. “You’re either a phenomenal actor or you really have no idea how to fight.”

That definitely wasn’t something Kyle had expected to hear. “Unfortunately for me, it’s the latter. I’m still getting this figured out. Before all this, the only fighting I did was argue with my patients and their families.”

Garth nodded, putting his sword back in its sheath before slinging it over his shoulder once again. “I had you figured for a soldier who picked up a healing skill, maybe a Field Medic with martial specialization based on your ability to survive out here. But an honest to goodness Healer with formal Central Health training—that I’m still having a hard time with.”

“What’s so hard to believe about that?” Kyle asked. This could get bad, Kyle thought, understanding with perfect clarity just how outmatched he’d be if Garth decided that he was a risk.

“Honestly, Kyle, it’s hard to believe because the Healer that was traveling with our group could scarcely do better than the rest of the people here. He had to burn most of his mana just to try and stay upright when the mana sickness got to him, and he had the benefit of the Guard Array. Then we see you running up, and if you’re to be believed, having lived in it for several weeks.” Garth started circling Kyle, not taking his eyes off the younger man. “But after watching you help the people I’ve been protecting and seeing your display against these beetles, there’s just no way a trained fighter would move the way you do. Your stance is weak, your reactions are slow, and frankly, you don’t seem to have much of a killer instinct.”

Ouch. Kyle didn’t like hearing it—the feedback was way more direct than he would have expected from this already strange conversation, but he had to admit that Garth wasn’t far off the mark. Kyle wasn’t a fighter. While he was proud of the steps he’d taken in developing his method of self-defense, he couldn’t, by any stretch of the imagination, call himself a warrior.

“What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you’re running some kind of con on us. There are still things here that don’t add up, and I’m not going to try to dance around that. But I don’t think you’re out here with any intention to cause us harm. For now, we’re good.”

Kyle could work with that, and his worry gave way to a genuine smile. An idea came to him, and he met Garth’s eyes. “Would you be willing to teach me how to fight? I’ve honestly been on the back foot ever since this whole thing started, and it would be really nice to feel like I knew what I was doing, even just a little bit.”

Garth considered for a moment before shaking his head. “I can show you some basics, but honestly, the way that martial classes teach to fight has a lot to do with our attribute growth and having skills to help cover us. Without access to a boosting skill and the durability that comes from our attribute growths, I’m afraid that mimicking my style would just be a good way to wind up dead.”

Kyle tried to keep a neutral expression, but inwardly he was trembling with excitement. With Haste still ripe for testing and rock solid Vitality and Endurance attributes, Kyle felt like there was real hope to learn. Still, though, he didn’t want to tip his hand prematurely. “Even just learning the basics would give me a lot to build on. Hopefully, these are skills that I won’t have to use much once we make it to Nierburg.”

Garth gave him a sad smile, one that showed Kyle that he understood the situation as well as anybody—Kyle was clearly deviant in some capacity and would have a lot of fights both within and outside the bureaucracy once things got back to normal. Garth clapped him on the shoulder again as he walked past, moving past the moment. “I truly hope that’s the case.”

Chapter 18

The next several weeks reminded Kyle of his early days of medical school—long hours of humility and learning how much he still needed to learn. Instead of spending his evenings poring over his notes, he spent the time on the road, drilling his footwork under Garth’s watchful eye. With C.H.A.D.D. supplementing the Guard Array, they were able to identify an increasing number of small beetle groups, all of which Garth treated as training for Kyle. At this point, the focus was all about efficient dodging and positioning, with Garth stepping in to handle the offense when he felt that Kyle’s progress was sufficient.

“You’re leaving too much room! Slow-moving beetles are no excuse for sloppy work!” Kyle heard his companion-turned-trainer’s words and was prepared to respond before ducking out of the way of another beetle that had fluttered toward his face. There were four of them this time, and with specific instructions not to use his weapon or counterattack, Kyle found himself hard-pressed on the open road. Kyle stepped to the side again, this time staying closer to the beetle in question.

“This is a lot harder than it looks, you know. Last time was hard enough with only three!” The quip cost him as a small beetle came up behind him and latched onto his left leg. Fortunately for Kyle, the increased number of beetles they’d fought gave him ample chitin to work with, and the claws scrabbled ineffectually against Kyle’s expanded armor. Kyle knew these small variants also posed a limited threat against his reinforced skin, but he wasn’t quite ready to share that secret with Garth. The older man still suspected something wasn’t quite right with him, particularly as Kyle’s Dexterity and Perception were put to good use by learning and applying the footwork techniques Garth showed him.

With a burst of motion, Kyle kicked out his left leg, dislodging his would-be rider, and then took a few quick steps back, all four beetles once again in his field of view. “Sloppy!” Garth called out once again, with no hint of joviality. He had drawn his broadsword and held it in a two-handed grip as he closed the distance between himself and Kyle, a serious expression on his face. “These are the mistakes that will get you killed on a battlefield. Watch. Learn. Do better.” With that, he slowly walked forward as the beetles closed.

It was art. There was no other way that Kyle could describe it. He understood that, from a raw attribute perspective, he was competitive with Garth in Dexterity and significantly ahead in Perception. His free point distribution had been kept fairly balanced with the exception of Strength, and with a normal Warrior class, Garth didn’t have a big excess of attributes to work with. Despite that, every move was made with precision and purpose. Garth effortlessly stepped between the oncoming beetles and returned brutal slashes with his sword. Unencumbered by the need to protect and watch their group since C.H.A.D.D.’s arrival, Kyle had seen firsthand these skills put to use to dispatch over twelve different groups of beetles. When the deviant beetles numbered six or more, Kyle would need to assist, but otherwise, Garth handled them with brutal efficiency. In the span of thirty seconds, the four beetles had been reduced to pieces staining the asphalt, and Garth turned to face Kyle. “What did you do wrong?”

Kyle almost flinched as he met Garth’s eyes, the blue eyes hard and cold as ice. “I… I guess I lost track of one of them? And then I had to create a lot more distance to disengage; I guess that wasn’t great. I also could have worked on being more predictive, I think? Usually C.H.A.D.D. can run those vectors, but I should probably—“ Kyle was cut off as he dodged a beetle leg that Garth had thrown at him.

“That’s a bunch of garbage and you know it. You aren’t taking this seriously. At all. The progress I saw out of the gate was impressive. But you found yourself in a place that’s good enough for now, and you stopped really working on it. These beetles aren’t dangerous enough for you to take this seriously? Do I need C.H.A.D.D. to show you scans of what one of them did to Dalen when it broke through? Have you really forgotten that much already?”

Kyle was about to reply that the beetles they’d faced when they met were larger and more threatening, but his response died on his lips as he looked at Garth’s hard expression. Their eyes met.

Kyle looked away first, his eyes turning to the ground at his feet. The reality was that these beetles weren’t that dangerous to Kyle anymore. Their motions were simple and linear, their claws couldn’t find purchase in his armor, and with Haste, he had every confidence in his ability to disengage from them if things got really hairy. Kyle looked up, trying to find something to say. Or he would have, if he didn’t have to duck under a piece of loose asphalt that Garth had thrown full speed at his chest. Kyle barely got out of the way before another high-speed projectile came flying at him, sidestepping this and ducking a third that was aimed at his head.

Garth snorted, sitting down cross legged in the road and gesturing for Kyle to sit nearby. “What are your attributes? I’m serious—don’t try to feed me some line of crap. No way your Dexterity is under 100, and I’d wager Perception is about the same.”

Kyle looked at the man, a little bit stunned. He had grown to Level 41 over the past few weeks with his continued treatment of the group, but acknowledging that he’d progressed so far and gone so far astray from expectation felt wrong. Still, Garth had largely taken his measure, and despite everything, he had decided to invest time and training in Kyle when he easily could have sent him on his way. Kyle met his eyes. “Dexterity is 102. Perception is considerably higher than that.”

Garth chuckled, a smile finally cracking the granite of his face. “With numbers like that, you’re probably damn close to Level 40, if not beyond it. No wonder these things aren’t all that scary to you.” He fell silent for a moment before standing up, seeming to have come to some sort of conclusion. “Not much sense in continuing to practice skills in situations with no tension. Not entirely sure where to go from here, but at least that confirms some things. Come on, let’s rejoin the others. That’s plenty for today.”

Kyle nodded and accepted Garth’s hand as he got to his feet. They walked in silence for a little bit, Garth finally breaking it. “If it were just beetles out there, I wouldn’t be pushing you so hard. Hell, if it were just beetles, we wouldn’t have lost as many as we have.”

Kyle frowned, considering the implication. Were there other creatures like the beetles that they’d encountered? He knew E Grade creatures weren’t uncommon—they were the primary responsibility of Central Defense to handle and hadn’t been much of an issue since the time of the Originators. His frown deepened as the answer started to become clear. “You’re talking about other awakened, aren’t you?”

Garth gave a grim nod. “The others don’t like to talk about it much since it happened, but have they mentioned Carlyle to you? Maybe Dylan or Crystal?”

“I’ve heard the names in passing, but I haven’t met them. I take it they didn’t make it?”

“Dylan and Crystal didn’t. Carlyle is still out there, although once these people are safe, I’m looking forward to remedying that problem.”

As they approached the edge of the Guard Array, Garth motioned for them both to stop. “Before we get back together with the others, I think it’s best you hear the story about what happened to us in the months before we met you. The whole story.”

Chapter 19

“Crystal, you’ve got inbound!” Garth shouted, watching a dog-sized beetle amble toward his longtime friend. Her hands moved in a blur of motion, and blades of sharpened mana sprung out of the air and began to whirl around her, intercepting the insect and carving it to pieces. While he was the nominal leader of the group, he had no doubt that she was more powerful. They’d traveled together for the better part of a decade, and it had been her tutelage that had led to the development of his Air Blade skill all those years ago.

She caught him looking and smirked, a playful twinkle in her eye. “Don’t you have other things you should be staring at right now?”

He grinned back. “Not when you’re clearing out the bugs like that. Gives me plenty of time to sit back and enjoy the show.”

She chuckled again as she motioned for him to come back. Carlyle and Dylan were back with their unawakened near the Central Defense outpost where they’d been stationed.

It still hurt to think about the rest of their team, all dead in the city. Garth and Crystal had gone to the Central Defense outpost to place an order for supplies before their next deployment, planning to meet their team for lunch. The supply counter was in the basement of the building, and that was where they were when the calamity struck. It took them several days to clear out the rubble that had blocked them in, and when they finally made it outside, it… was awful. Many of the buildings in the town had simply been blown away in the shockwaves that had rocked the earth, but the majority of the buildings in Duilleag were sturdy enough that many people made it through the initial destruction. Unfortunately, few among them survived without major injuries, and the only surviving Healer, Dylan, was trapped in the basement of the collapsed supply depot with Garth and Crystal. By the time the group at the outpost was able to open a path through the debris, most of the injured survivors had succumbed to their injuries.

Duilleag wasn’t a town anybody would have called pretty, and Garth was perfectly happy to spend the bulk of his time in the dense forests surrounding the area, suppressing the awakened beast population. That sentiment was only magnified now that the city was reduced to piles of rubble, the final resting place of many of Garth and Crystal’s friends and colleagues. Despite that, the supply depot made for a good home base, and Garth agreed that fortifying it made sense. In all, they had a group of nearly sixty, with four awakened, including him and Crystal. Dylan, their Healer, was constantly trying to apply treatment where he could in the depot, while Carlyle, a Mage and survivor from one of the nearby homes, would keep watch and use Fireball to signal if there were any issues at the camp. They could really use another Warrior like Garth, but with the resources they had, this distribution of responsibilities worked fairly well.

It didn’t go without its hitches, of course. As Garth and Crystal were returning to the base, they spotted Carlyle sitting on a pile of concrete, looking out into the forest. While Garth couldn’t blame him, it was these kinds of behaviors that needed to be nipped in the bud. All it took was one mistake by a lazy lookout to cause a disaster. “Carlyle, what are you doing out here?” he called out, the playful banter from earlier completely gone from his voice.

The younger man looked at him, brown eyes meeting Garth’s. “Just taking a bit of a break. The view’s a nice one,” he said, tossing a wink at Crystal, who just rolled her eyes.

“You’re ten years too young and twenty levels too weak to be trying that, kid,” Garth responded. “But you can’t just go wandering off when you feel like it. This isn’t a day job that comes with breaks and lunches. The stakes here are real.” He gestured toward the depot. “People like them count on people like us. One misstep on our end could cost lives, Carlyle.”

“Really?” he shot back. “It seems like you two have all the time in the world to go wander off in the woods together. I’d watch which pots I call black, Mr. Kettle.”

Garth set his jaw, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Crystal had pushed him to try to be a little less gruff with Carlyle—he wasn’t a trained soldier, and Garth had to understand that. On the other hand, the kid was awful to deal with. Terrible attitude, lazy, and most of all, disrespectful. He was biting back the reply when he heard Crystal’s voice snap in the silence. “The hell you mean by that? You think we’re over here going for a midday quickie without a care in the world? You genuinely believe that we’re just frolicking about in the middle of a twice-damned wasteland? Behaving like a couple of teenagers just a few kilometers away from where all of our friends died? Grow the hell up, Carlyle, and get back to your post before I figure out how to make this work with three awakened instead of four.”

Both Carlyle and Garth were stunned by Crystal’s response, but from Garth’s perspective, it seemed to do the trick. Carlyle’s mouth narrowed to a line as he stood up, and he turned and walked back toward the camp in silence. Garth and Crystal stood there for a moment, watching him go. He turned to her, a small grin forming on his face. “So let’s talk about taking it easy on the kid. You know, I really think you could have⁠—“

“Oh piss off,” she said, punching his shoulder. “You were right, the kid’s terrible.”

Smiling in satisfaction, Garth rubbed his sore shoulder as they also finished their walk back to camp.

As they entered the radius of their Guard Array, Crystal gave a sigh of relief. Even as comfortable as she was regulating her mana, the wear and tear from the chaotic energy in the air took a toll. They went to see Dylan, a balding middle-aged man with heavy bags under his eyes. “Garth, Crystal. Sorry about this, but I’m really in no condition to help right now. Think you’ll be able to stick it out for a few hours while I get back up to speed?”

Garth frowned at this but nodded. Having one Healer for about sixty patients wasn’t a sustainable ratio, and despite their aches and pains, Garth and Crystal were far better off than most. “Go ahead, Dylan, take what rest you can. Everything quiet today?”

The older man sighed as he slumped into a chair. “Yeah, nothing out of the ordinary. I worry for these kids, Garth. There’s a reason we didn’t find any others out there. Even through the Array, these kids are having a really hard time with the mana coursing through them. If we survive this, I’m concerned about what this is doing to their bodies long-term.”

Garth nodded, sharing a look with Crystal. That had been one of their big concerns, too. Another item on an ever-growing list of problems to deal with later.

They walked to the office and the back and settled in, graciously accepting some rehydrated rations from Thomas, who greeted them with a smile and left them to their conversation. The room was typical for Central Defense: austere white walls with a dark wooden desk and utilitarian office chairs. Some reference books sat on a shelf on one wall, as sterile and ordinary as an office can get—if you discounted the large drone floating in the center, the barrier expanded to the maximum while still maintaining a reasonable filter to protect the people under its shimmering dome. The last couple of months had been hard—incredibly so, but given what they’d had to start, Garth was proud of what they’d accomplished as a group. He leaned back in his chair, preparing to take a quick nap, when the Guard Array suddenly hummed.

[EMERGENCY SIGNAL FROM NIERBURG, CALLING ALL SURVIVORS TO CONGREGATE ON ORDERS OF COUNCILOR VICTOR DEROSA.]

Garth looked at Crystal as hope reignited in his chest. After all they’d been through, there was a chance that this nightmare would be over soon.

Chapter 20

“Leaving is just a bad idea.” Crystal crossed her arms and met Garth’s eyes, not willing to budge on the subject. They’d called in Dylan, and after some debate, Carlyle, to discuss the plan with this new information. They sat in the cramped office surrounding the Guard Array, trying to come to a consensus for their plan of action. As it had the last several days, their debate had been going on for almost three hours, always boiling back to two core ideas: either plan to go to Nierburg and meet up with DeRosa’s faction, or try to get a message through the Guard Array to notify them of their location but remain in their current spot. Garth found himself debating alongside a much quieter Carlyle to leave, while Crystal and Dylan were firmly of the opinion that they should stay.

“Crystal, there’s a real chance to get these people to a city that might still be operational. We’ve done right by them, but if we stay here, eventually we’ll run out of supplies. Eventually, the Guard Array will stop working. Who’s to say that they’ll be able to get here and help us? Who’s to say they’ll even want to after we disregarded an order from a councilman. I can appreciate the risks in the short-term, but we can do this. We’ve seen these people through a lot already, and with the four of us, we should be able to deal with whatever’s between us and them.”

At that, Dylan scoffed and crossed his arms. “Don’t count me in that ‘four’ you’re spouting off. I’m barely more useful than an unawakened out there. Most of my mana will be keeping me on my feet. Things are hard enough as it is with the shelter we have, Garth. If we choose to leave, you need to understand that there will be casualties. I just can’t get behind that.”

Crystal nodded along with Dylan’s words. “We just have too many people here to realistically support them with just the four of us. We might be able to make a smaller group work, but as things stand, we don’t have the resources. If Nierburg can send a small scouting party with a Healer and a couple more Warriors, we’d have enough manpower to safely travel across. I know we aren’t terribly close, but we should have enough food to last us another few months at least, more if we ration aggressively.”

Garth took a deep breath. They had come to this point in the argument three times already, and it felt like no matter what he had to say. Dylan and Crystal wouldn’t be convinced, just like their words didn’t convince him that staying was the best option. He was about to suggest they call it a night and reevaluate in the morning when Carlyle piped up. The younger man had been mostly silent through the course of the conversation, only voicing his opinion that they should go to Nierburg in alignment with Garth. He had been sulking since Crystal had called him out on his behavior, and Garth couldn’t remember seeing him around for the couple days following—this being the first meeting that he’d joined. “If we aren’t comfortable with the idea of committing to one plan, why not do both? Garth and I can take a group of the people who are more able, and the ones who are struggling can stay with Dylan and Crystal. We can get to Nierburg in a few weeks and lead a return group to escort the rest. We’ll probably get priority treatment, especially with you here, Dylan. Can never have enough Healers around.”

This was an idea that hadn’t been discussed before, and Garth was surprised to hear that Carlyle would be willing to travel with him. Between Garth’s swordsmanship and Carlyle’s fire magic, they could easily handle the mutated beetles they’d run into, and the smaller group would have a much better time than trying to get the entire group through. Add in Garth’s credentials with Central Defense, and this idea might have a decent shot. “Crystal, that would leave you responsible for protecting the rest of the camp. Do you think you’ll be able to handle it on your own?” Even with mana empowerment making it easier to stay awake and run longer, that was still a lot of responsibility to put on one person’s shoulders.

“It’s not ideal, but if we institute a decent watch and use a curfew, I could see it working. Keep everybody close enough, and I should be able to protect the group with just a few mana blades.”

Dylan looked at them thoughtfully before jumping in. “I think there’s a lot of merit to the idea, but if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I think you should bring Gwen and Sarah with you. As it is, I can barely keep up on the treatment for them, and honestly, they need medical attention from somebody with a lot more skill than me. I’m not doing much better than putting a bandage on the issue, and Nierburg’s Central Health had some phenomenal physicians. I did some of my early training there. They’d be able to help much more than me.”

That gave Garth pause—traveling with the children would add a lot of additional complexity to their situation, and he knew it would slow them down. “Do you really think they’re in that much danger? They seem to be getting around fine. And with fewer people demanding your time, I’m sure you’ll be able to dedicate more of your resources on them. And with all this attention, your Level 20 skill might be something tailored to their situation. I’m sure we could get approval from the group there and pass a message along.”

A sad smile crept across Dylan’s face as he met Garth’s eyes. “Truth be told, I’ve been bottlenecked for a while. Despite providing care every day, I haven’t gained a level. I don’t know what’s causing the problem, but with things as they stand, I’m not good for much beyond basic injury triage. Once I get to Nierburg, I have no doubt they’ll have me assigned to an emergency medical unit—anything more complicated than that is probably beyond me now.”

Silence filled the room as they took in Dylan’s words. While bottlenecks were commonplace past Level 30, well over half of all awakened were able to make it to Level 20 to get their second skill. Those who weren’t able to cross that threshold were not viewed favorably—in some ways, it was even worse than being unawakened. Someone who had the ability to cultivate mana but stopped so early was a tragic waste of potential. For his age, Dylan was remarkably low-leveled, and if he’d truly hit a bottleneck, any hope for a comfortable career had evaporated. Garth wondered what mistakes the man made to find himself in the position, but he dismissed the thought as soon as it crossed his mind. Dylan was a good man, and Garth appreciated his counsel and hard work. Months ago, he might have entertained it more, but for now, they had more pressing matters. “We’ll need to workshop the logistics, but if you think it’s best for them, we trust you, Dylan. We’ve been at this a while, let’s get some rest and reconvene in the morning to iron out the rest of the plan. Carlyle, this was a great suggestion. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” he replied, smiling as he met Garth’s eyes.

Chapter 21

It only took a few days for the group to figure out the details of the split move and organize the parties. Garth and Carlyle would take a group of thirty-five with them to Nierburg, a diverse group including both the most capable unawakened as well as the most fragile. That would leave less than half with Dylan and Crystal, but without any major standouts. Garth was loathe to do it, but he used his credentials to requisition another Guard Array from the depot. The array they’d deployed was far and away the best they had, but even a couple week’s travel without at least some protection would likely prove fatal for the children and elderly unawakened in their group. They’d also packed and set aside nearly a quarter of their remaining rations—more than enough for Garth’s group to make it to Nierburg and back, with the remaining rations being left to extend the time the remnants would be provisioned.

Once more, Garth thought, refreshing the timelines in his head. Two weeks to Nierburg, three days to get resupplied and request assistance, then two weeks or less to return. While the idea of splitting up was a little anxiety-inducing, reviewing the plan helped to calm his nerves. And he’d done a lot of reviewing over these last few days. He glanced over a checklist as he emerged from the bunker, every item crossed off except a final readiness check with Carlyle and his goodbyes to Crystal and Dylan. Walking over to where the unawakened were saying their goodbyes, he spotted Carlyle entering the protective dome of the Guard Array, the barely visible barrier parting around him as he passed it.

“How’s everything looking out there?” Garth asked, having grown more used to the young man wandering away over the last week.

“Should be decent enough for travel. Nothing we haven’t seen before.” As Carlyle gave his short reply, Garth noticed a nervous energy about him today; tension in his shoulders, eyes that couldn’t help but watch the surroundings. He considered pressing the matter, but he remembered the nerves he had before his first deployment. Drawing attention to it risked embarrassing Carlyle, and while the relationship seemed to be improving over the last week, he didn’t want to push things. “Looks like we’ll be ready to leave in about an hour. Anything I can help with on your end before we go?”

“Nothing comes to mind; I’ve read the briefs. You’ve got the hard job, I’ll provide supportive fire if there’s an engagement, but mostly just along for the ride.”

That made Garth frown a bit, the briefs also included details about his responsibility to help with night watches and camp setup, but at least with some of the more able-bodied unawakened joining their group, he had some flexibility. “I’ll leave you to it then. And Carlyle, if things get bad out there and it doesn’t look like the group is going to make it, I want you to run. Get to Nierburg. On your own, you should be able to make that trip pretty quickly. You never signed up to be a soldier; there’s nothing wrong with cutting your losses and getting out. All I’d ask is that you help get a squad from Nierburg out here to take care of the others when you can.”

Carlyle looked surprised by those words, his mouth slightly agape, and almost physically rocked back on his heels. He looked like he was about to say something, then his facial expression returned to its usual smile. “Thanks, Garth. Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

Nodding his agreement, Garth patted his shoulder and walked past. “Me too. I’ll be back soon. If you need anything, send one of the others to come fetch me.”

He found Crystal near the perimeter of the Guard Array’s barrier, inspecting the wall of debris she’d been working on. With their combat power significantly reduced after Garth and Carlyle’s departure, they had agreed to shore up the basic physical defenses of their small compound. Small groups had gone out and acquired broken boards, cement, brick, or anything sturdy they could get their hands on and brought it in to create barricades. It wouldn’t hold them back long should the feral insects choose to breach, but it would give precious moments for Crystal and Dylan to get into formation and get their people to safety. “Not bad work for having no real supplies.” Garth meant it too—she had blocked off the old roadway with a nearly two meter high pile of debris, with no discernible way around. The options were over or through, exactly as they’d planned it.

“What can I say, I’m used to working with garbage and making it functional,” she responded, a twinkle in her eye.

“Hey now, don’t get too ahead of yourself. I’m hardly functional,” Garth replied with a grin.

They stood there in silence for a little bit, Crystal finally breaking it. “Get there safe, okay? I don’t want to have to come looking for you because you did something stupid. I mean it.”

He met her eyes and gave her a sad smile. Despite all the flirting over the years, they’d never actually tried to make a run of it. But it was clear to him how much she cared, and he knew his feelings for her were no less real. “That goes double for you. I’ll be back with support in a month, and if this place is a mess, I’m going to be so embarrassed in front of all my new friends.”

“Here I was about to kiss you, and you had to go and say something like that.”

“If I’d known kissing was on the table, I wouldn’t have wasted time saying anything at all,” Garth said as he pulled her to him.

A short while later, Garth made his way back to the central square, where the groups were congregating. Dylan was talking to Stephanie, giving her instructions about Gwen’s care during the journey. He’d spent the bulk of the last couple of days mitigating symptoms for the people with the worst mana sickness to make the journey easier. He still wanted them to get looked at right away, but he felt confident that they wouldn’t have too much trouble making it to Nierburg. Stephanie saw Garth approaching, thanking Dylan for his help as she left.

“Everything settled on your end before we leave?” Garth asked, clasping the older man’s hand.

“We’ll be fine. Still plenty of work to do, but that’s hardly a surprise.”

Garth smiled, knowing full well that Crystal wasn’t going to tolerate idleness while they waited for a rescue party from Nierburg. “Take care, Dylan. Bottleneck or not, everybody here owes you a major debt for the care you’ve provided the last couple months. And I’ll make sure that Nierburg hears that loud and clear.”

“I’ll just be happy when this whole thing is behind us. My career is the last thing on my mind right now.”

Garth couldn’t argue with that. Given everything they’d been through, he’d count it a win to just have any sort of normalcy back. “Then I’ll leave it at ‘thank you’ for now, and we’ll deal with the rest as it comes. We’ll see you in a few weeks.”

A side road leading away from the compound had intentionally been left unobstructed for their departure, and after much waving and many goodbyes, they were on their way. Less than an hour into their journey, a sense of unease began to creep over Garth. He led the group to keep an eye out for any beetles or other creatures that might cross their path, but at this point, he didn’t see signs of anything. Ordinarily, that should be a good thing, but as he crossed into an area he’d scouted previously with Crystal, the realization dawned on him. There were no prints or tracks at all in the ash, not even his. They certainly hadn’t been going out of their way to remove them, and as he thought back to previous trips out to deal with these monsters, he’d always seen networks of tracks. Some were newer, some were older, but the gentle ash falls made the tracks plain to see. Having seen virtually nothing but smooth ash, his unease turned to a cold dread. This wasn’t the action of mindless beasts; this was something—or someone—that didn’t want to be tracked. Had he not spent hours each day patrolling in the ash, it likely wouldn’t have stuck out at all. By this point, he had slowed to a stop, turning toward the rear of the group where Carlyle was covering the rear guard. As he did, he saw an orb of flame shooting rapidly into the sky and another on a collision course for him.

Chapter 22

Garth dove to his right to avoid the blast—the heat from its passing seared his left arm. Moments later, he felt the heat and rush of air from the blast that detonated behind him, confirming that the projectile had either struck something or run out of its effective range. Given the height of the explosion from the air, he expected it to be the former. There was no doubt as to what would have happened if it hit him squarely, and he turned to face his attacker. His eyes were locked onto Carlyle, who matched his gaze, his normal smiling expression twisted into a sneer as he drew in mana for another Fireball. The members of their group had devolved into a full panic, running to get clear of the impromptu battlefield. Unfortunately, nowhere was particularly safe when massive surges of mana were concerned. Dozens of questions ran through Garth’s head—why would Carlyle do this? Why cover up tracks in the ash? Are there others out here? He forced his attention back to the matter at hand, this time dodging the incoming projectile cleanly. As the adrenaline coursed through him, he took a deep breath and forced his breathing under control. His years of training kicked in, and while he had never fought a variant creature capable of shooting fireballs, he had learned some principles that he could rely on. The sneer on Carlyle’s face started to fade as he dodged the next two blasts, cutting the distance between them in half. The last one he’d dodged was accompanied shortly after by a scream of pain, and Garth winced to hear it. Somebody had gotten caught in the blast, and there was no way an unawakened would survive something like this. He growled as he forced the mana through his arms and into his sword, eyes fixed on the bastard who betrayed them. A quick twist of his hips, a downward stroke of his sword, and a razor-sharp Air Blade shot toward Carlyle, the lower edge cutting a trough through the ash and cement with blinding speed. That should have settled it, but somehow—defying reason—the scrawny man sidestepped it. As the wave of weakness passed through his arms, Garth refocused on Carlyle. It was barely perceptible, but there was a faint shimmer in the air around him. A boosting skill? Has to be. No way a mage has the Dexterity to dodge a strike like that. Garth cursed himself for not considering that Carlyle might have been Level 20 or beyond and cursed himself again for overplaying his hand. Even with the exhaustion, he was more than capable of pushing forward and could probably use Air Blade once or twice more before he was spent, but he’d shown his hand.

Fortunately for him, Carlyle didn’t have the wealth of battle experience that Garth did. The expression on his face showed genuine fear—dodging Air Blade was a closer thing than he’d expected, and this was likely his first major brush with death. Garth could use that. Taking a more defensive stance, Garth called out to him. “What the hell is wrong with you? I never figured you liked me, but really? You’re killing people because your feelings got hurt? It’s the end of the twice-damned world, and you’re really such a selfish little brat that you’re pushing the issue right now?”

Garth was hoping to play on the emotions, get an outburst of anger or regret, and try to take the opportunity to strike. Shocking him again, Carlyle’s face again returned to that sneer. “I never cared one way or another about you, your woman, or the old loser. Now that we’re out here alone, I saw a chance to be done with you and I took it. Get off your high horse; you’re nothing special to me. I won’t remember you once you’re a pile of ash.” With that, he channeled another Fireball and hurled it at Garth.

The cold feeling came crawling back—ironic given the situation. As disgusted as he was, thinking that Carlyle was enacting some juvenile revenge, it was another thing altogether to see the dispassionate cold in his eyes. As the orb approached, Garth decided to make a riskier play. He activated his first Warrior skill, Unshaken Resolve. He’d become familiar with the amount of mana in an individual fireball, and while he wouldn’t get out unscathed, he was confident that the amount of mana he was moving was still enough to shrug off the bulk of the blow. Channeling mana into his sword, he could deflect even more. The orb struck his infused blade and exploded, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. Carlyle hadn’t expected him to stand and take the hit and made a crucial error—he overestimated his own destructive potential. Rule number one when dealing with a dangerous creature was that there was no such thing as overkill. Garth dashed out of the blast, covered in ash and embers but largely unharmed.

He closed to within sword range, unleashing a flurry of slashes, each with the intent to kill. Garth’s earlier observation was confirmed—the kid was using some sort of fire-affinity boosting skill, and an absurdly powerful one at that. Despite being a mage, he was able to keep pace with Garth’s attacks and actually outspeed him with his footwork, slowly gaining enough distance to disengage and launch another Fireball from his left hand. Garth activated Unshaken Resolve, piercing the flaming orb with his blade, and braced for the following explosion. The cost of Carlyle’s boosting skill began to become more evident to Garth as his vision cleared, seeing his opponent absolutely drenched in sweat. Small cracks had appeared in his skin, almost looking like he’d been trapped in a desert with no water. This skill didn’t come without cost, and it was unlikely the kid would be able to keep it up much longer.

On the other side, Garth’s mana was starting to get stretched thin too. A couple more hits from a Fireball, and he’d be in dire straits. Just the thought that he could actually lose to this traitorous bastard got his blood boiling, and he came to a decision. He made a break toward Carlyle’s right, getting closer to the Guard Array, which had been maintaining a maximum range defensive dome through the conflict. Carlyle clearly didn’t expect the move, having launched another blast in what would have been the direct path, then launched another toward the grizzled Warrior as he shifted course.

“Drop barrier!” Garth called out, the Guard Array’s soft hum silencing as it stopped projecting the mana.

“Project!” This second command started the array projecting the same barrier again, but as it began to emit from the drone, it was struck by the Fireball, destroying the barrier and damaging the drone. Taking advantage of the situation, Garth leaped over the smoking drone and continued in a straight dash for his enemy, already feeding mana into his arms. Carlyle might have evaded this skill at range, but now he had the traitor’s measure. There’d be no dodging this time.

Chapter 23

Garth saw Carlyle’s eyes widen in shock as Garth closed on him, widening further as he stumbled backward, tripping over his own feet in panic. The younger man’s eyes darted to the side, and Garth saw the fear retreat as the fireball let loose. For a moment, he thought it was a panicked misfire, but then he saw her. Out of the corner of his eye he barely noticed the small girl and her mother—a blast of fire on pace to immolate them. Gwen had fallen in the ash and was in tears, her mother desperately trying to get her to safety. It was as if time stood still. All of his training told him what he needed to do. In circumstances like this, it was an acceptable loss for two unawakened to die in order to take down a threat like Carlyle. At a less noble level, Carlyle had betrayed him. Betrayed all of them. And that wasn’t something he wanted to take lying down. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, his teeth clenched in fury. You bastard. You absolute bastard. A scream of frustration escaped from his mouth as he turned the blade at the last moment, the focused blade of air slicing through and detonating Carlyle’s Fireball before it could reach Gwen and Stephanie. The two hadn’t even noticed, with Stephanie still curled tightly around her daughter, bracing for an impact that wouldn’t arrive. Garth swore again as he felt a sharp pain in his left arm, the dramatic shift in target throwing off the control of his mana and causing a backlash. There was no way his arm would be in a condition to use Air Blade again for a while, and Carlyle had already gained his feet and put significant distance between them.

Carlyle’s gamble had paid off, and he was out of there. His mana reserves were running low, and the pressure from Overheat was becoming unbearable. He sprinted off the road and into the ruins of an old residential neighborhood, not even turning to look to see if Garth would pursue. He knew he didn’t have much time remaining, and the singular thought running through his head was to escape. Scrambling over ruined walls and across ash-covered streets, he felt Overheat wear off, and he collapsed to the ground, curling up inside a bathtub that had been knocked free from the second story of a house somewhere nearby and turned on its side. It wasn’t great cover—frankly, it barely qualified—but it would be enough. It would have to be enough. He pulled a canteen from his hip and drank greedily until it was empty—his skin still felt burned, his lips cracked and bleeding. Overheat gave him some massive boosts to his attributes, but using it took an enormous toll, literally burning his body from the inside out. Now all he could do was wait. He was confident that Garth wouldn’t follow; for all his bluster, he was injured and had to be running low on mana too. With a pained sigh, he curled up and closed his eyes. He’d done his part, and he could only hope the others had done theirs.

Garth watched as Carlyle escaped, running into the ruins at a speed he knew he couldn’t match. I was so close. I was so damn close. Regret hung over Garth like a cloak, in that moment feeling like he’d made the wrong decision not to end Carlyle right there. With a sigh he backed away toward the Guard Array, not turning his back to the ruins. He figured his opponent was long gone by now, but he wasn’t about to get caught by surprise again. He continued until his hand rested on the still-warm hull of the array drone, feeling a barrier of mana slowly reforming around the singed metal. “Guard Array, status update.”

The machine hummed, but no audible response was forthcoming. Could be that it’s just the audio functionality that was damaged, or it could be something worse. He had nothing to lose by moving forward with an optimistic assumption. “Deploy barrier, fifteen meters.” The humming intensified, and the small barrier he’d felt slowly began to intensify and grow.

Satisfied that he had some sort of functional protection, his next step was to return to the supply depot. Something was very, very wrong, and if he even had a chance to help stop whatever Carlyle had planned, he had to try. He looked around, seeing terrified faces peering out from various makeshift shelters. He turned to one of the young men, Dalen. “Get over here and organize people around the Guard Array. It’s set to fifteen meters, so it’ll be a bit cramped, but that should improve the quality of the protection. Feel free to move it but leave it nearby—if I’m not back in four hours, continue the course to Nierburg.”

Dalen nodded numbly, still trying to process everything that had happened. Without a word, Garth turned and followed their tracks back toward Duilleag.

At first, Garth dared to hope. He’d retraced over half of their journey in haste, not seeing any signs that things were amiss. The hope grew as he got closer, and then he saw her. Maybe one hundred meters from the entry they’d left open, he saw Crystal’s body slumped against a post. His vision narrowed as he ran toward her, not believing the truth that his eyes were telling him. He grabbed her in his arms, and his fear was confirmed. She was gone. There were deep wounds in her side, along with dozens of other cuts and burns. Looking around the area, he saw the remnants of the battle. Deep gouges in the earth were the evidence of her techniques, and plenty of blood had spilled all around. But this clearly wasn’t a duel—it was an ambush executed by multiple other awakened. For all her strengths, Crystal never had a chance. He had dreaded this possibility and had expected to feel rage or get wrapped up in anger. Instead, he felt… calm. The pain was there, and it was intense. But it was focused. These people would pay for what they did. He would make sure that this was the biggest regret of their twice-damned lives. But he knew charging in would just get him killed alongside her. So he buried that grief, let the pain drive him to that cold, cruel, rational place. For now, he needed answers.

Looking up the road, he saw the path they’d left open now blocked by an earthwork, likely the handiwork of an earth-affinity Mage. He circled around the sides of his former encampment, looking for the rarely-used entrances that Crystal hadn’t barricaded and that a new arrival might miss. He found one such entrance on the east, a small bicycle path that led into the heart of the city from the nearby suburbs. He made it closer to the town center and was greeted by a shocking sight. At least a dozen people wearing the uniform of Central Defense were standing in a circle around a handful of survivors, bodies of many others scattered around the plaza. There was a battle here too, but with Dylan as the only awakened here, the outcome was all but assured. He looked around and saw the faces of the people he’d set out to protect, saw Dylan’s lifeless eyes from where he lay, a cut running across his torso from shoulder to hip. There was nothing left here, but this was information he knew he needed to get to Nierburg. These deserters, these traitors, would pay for what they’d done. Garth slipped out of the city center without issue, cold rage still inflamed in his heart. It may not be today, it may not be tomorrow, but one day, he would make them pay.

Kyle exhaled slowly, processing all the information that Garth had shared with him. He could hardly believe the struggle that this group of survivors had been through, and the suffering that Garth had personally felt. It was a cold and brutal reminder of the reality of their situation—he wasn’t the only person who had lost someone special. When Garth was sharing about Crystal, his eyes had taken on a hard resolve that Kyle hadn’t seen before. He had no doubt about what would be waiting for Carlyle should their paths cross again, and he shuddered at the thought.

“I didn’t tell you this to make you feel sorry for us or to give you some sob story. I told you because you need to know the price of distraction in a world like this. If me or Crystal had paid better attention, Carlyle never would have gotten the jump on me. We could have made it back in time, and she might still be alive. They all might still be alive.” Garth’s voice broke as he talked, and he stood up, turning his back to Kyle. “Come on, let’s finish heading back. They’ll be waiting for us.” Wordlessly, Kyle joined him, and they made their way back to camp.

Chapter 24

“Now!” Thomas shouted, and Kyle exploded into action. He closed on the Warrior, hands up in a fighting stance and ready to strike. He launched a series of jabs with his left hand, just like he’d been taught. Despite his superior Perception and Dexterity, Kyle’s punches each failed to land a meaningful blow, and he was forced to sidestep as Garth countered with a vicious straight punch that made the air crack in its wake. The group cheered loudly at the spectacle, watching Kyle once again attempt to land a blow on Garth. This time, he feinted in with a left jab, only to take a deep step in with his right foot to try to get around Garth’s guard. The trained soldier saw the feint coming and lowered his shoulder, slamming into Kyle with the force of a small car. Kyle was knocked back several meters, breath knocked out of him as he crashed to the ground. “That’s another for Garth!” Thomas yelled, and the crowd of onlookers cheered again. This marked Garth’s twelfth win, with Kyle only able to tackle or land a solid hit on the man seven times on his end. That frustrated the part of him that liked to compete, but he couldn’t help but feel invigorated at the challenge of trying to match up to Garth head-to-head.

He had balked at the idea at first, but looking at the smiling faces in the crowd, he couldn’t help but match the expression. Garth had suggested practicing live combat against him, with the pressure of having the group of survivors watching. On the one hand, it would give the group some much needed entertainment, and it would raise the stakes and pressure enough for Kyle to try to meaningfully improve without taking undue risks. In the week since they’d started this training, he still could barely come out ahead in one in three skirmishes, despite his superior attributes. He still hadn’t meaningfully tested Haste, but he knew that Garth likely had a handful of tricks up his sleeve that he hadn’t deployed as well. Athleticism and physical ability were important, but they were no substitute for tried and true combat experience, which Garth had in spades. Kyle hadn’t realized just how many variant creatures Garth’s team had been sent out to suppress, even this far after Earth’s awakening. Like everybody else, he’d heard stories of the hordes of powerful E Grade and even the occasional D Grade monster from the time of the Originators, but just like with people, he’d assumed that when the ambient mana had calmed down, the emergence of these creatures would as well. From what he’d gathered from Garth and the others in Central Defense, they were out on some sort of monster hunt almost weekly and rarely returned with a false alarm. What that meant ultimately was that Garth had fought with his life on the line for over a decade—an experience gap that wasn’t going to be easily closed.

Garth walked over to the dust-covered Kyle, extending his hand, which the young doctor grabbed. “You all right? That hit was a lot harder than I anticipated. Great step in, if a little predictable. Your footwork has gotten much better.”

Feeling his smile grow, Kyle met Garth’s eyes. “You really think I’m improving?”

“You’re almost not a complete disaster. Don’t get ahead of yourself, you’ve still got a long way to go.” Garth snorted.

Kyle nodded, still not able to fully suppress the happiness he felt. This was the kind of thing he enjoyed—finding a challenge and having to push himself to meet it. From the physical trials of keeping up with his grandfather to the mental challenges of his medical training, some of Kyle’s fondest memories were of overcoming adversity. No, that’s not quite right, Kyle thought. Sure, he very much enjoyed the feeling of success that came with fresh accomplishments, but that wasn’t the whole puzzle.

As he reflected on it, he noticed a familiar grief in the pit of his stomach. No longer the stabbing anguish it had been, but still present. Grandpa… he thought, remembering how Clark would always go out of his way to be present during the victories. He realized he’d been standing in silence for a moment and had no illusion that Garth noticed. “Sorry, just thinking about how things were before. Got caught up in the moment a little.”

Garth nodded with a smile, clapping Kyle’s shoulder as he turned away. “Nothing wrong with remembering, just don’t live there. Good job, kid.” With that, he walked away, and the circle of onlookers dissipated, returning to their duties and leaving Kyle alone. Well, leaving Kyle alone with C.H.A.D.D.

[DR. MAYHEW, SCANS SHOW MINOR BRUISING AROUND THE RIBCAGE, BUT OTHERWISE NO NOTEWORTHY DAMAGE. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO BEGIN THE REPLAY NOW?]

Sighing as the drone brought him fully back to the moment, he nodded, not missing the drone’s use of “me” in its language. C.H.A.D.D. had been doing more of that lately, which Kyle knew should worry him more than it did. There were strict regulations in place when it came to AI functionalities, and he had no illusions that C.H.A.D.D. was moving well beyond those boundaries. Still, he just felt better having the drone behave more like a person. Having somebody else he could talk to that knew all the changes he’d gone through was incredibly comforting, magnified further by C.H.A.D.D. having been there since before this mess had started. He watched as the little drone projected miniature scale versions of himself and Garth and watched their sparring session unfold again.

Kyle watched the battle play out in miniature scale, the combat slowed down to a snail’s pace as he took in every aspect of the fight. Watching Garth’s slow, fluid motions made his seem so frantic and sloppy by comparison, and just like the nights before, Kyle saw areas that he could improve. Garth was right—his feint was hasty and easily predicted, the evidence before him as he saw a subtle shift in Garth’s weight even before projection-Kyle had gotten halfway through the deeper step in. He felt the intense focus build as he watched the dance again and again, just as he’d done with every fight beforehand. The dissection and observation of his combat style in many ways reminded him of his medical training, and he took a similar clinical approach. If he was being honest with himself, it felt good to have something to fully occupy his mind. It wasn’t since his internal medicine rotations and micro-mana manipulation training that he felt a mental challenge at this level, and before he knew it, he was narrating observations to C.H.A.D.D., who dutifully tracked the narration. “Too much tension in the hips, the lunge in was telegraphed by flexion in the left leg and dropping of the left arm. C.H.A.D.D., freeze frame here, I want to…”

Hours of observations later, Kyle gave C.H.A.D.D. the go-ahead to stop the playbacks, his fights thoroughly reviewed and analyzed. He’d gone back to the previous recordings as well to compare some of the footwork issues, and he was pleased to see he’d uncovered some of the common movements that telegraphed his transition into offense. With a grunt of satisfaction, he lay back on the cold ground, C.H.A.D.D. floating down beside him. The stories Garth shared had troubled Kyle—he still had a hard time believing that a group of awakened would have such an easy time throwing away the public good—but he recognized that this reality was one he would have to contend with. And he intended to be ready to tackle it head-on.

Chapter 25

[NIERBURG IS ONE DAY’S TRAVEL AT OUR CURRENT PACE.] The unprompted note from C.H.A.D.D. was a welcome reminder of how far they’d come and that this leg of their journey was coming to a close. Looking at the group, Kyle felt a mix of emotions. Their time traveling together had forged a bond, and other than the occasional group of beetles, their travels had been relatively uneventful. On the one hand, Kyle was grateful for a place of safety for their group, especially the little ones. Their pace had been significantly slowed because of the children, and Kyle found himself spending a good chunk of each day providing healing and care. The last thing he would want would be for them to have long-term repercussions as a result of being exposed to this rogue mana, and the sooner they got to safety, the better. On the other side, Kyle also recognized that his time with the group was likely coming to an abrupt end. He held little hope that he would be allowed to resume his duties with Central Health, and that hope dwindled each day as his levels kept growing. After the evening’s round of Heal skills for the survivors, he felt the now familiar surge, an indicator that his level had grown yet again. This would put him at Level 48 and among the upper echelons of power within the old Central Authority. Ordinarily not a problem—except for his wanton investment in both skills and attributes entirely apart from what the Central Authority would sanction. He realized with a pang of guilt that he’d leaned into it far more than he had to, investing more and more of his free points into Vitality and Endurance, leaving them just slightly behind Perception and Intelligence. He found a quiet corner to enter meditation and reflect on the attributes present in his center.

KYLE MAYHEW. ARTHRO-HUMAN CHIMERA, HEALER. LEVEL 48

VITALITY: 174

ENDURANCE: 174

STRENGTH: 56

DEXTERITY: 116

WILLPOWER: 133

INTELLIGENCE: 176

PERCEPTION: 175

FREE ATTRIBUTES: 4

Without even pausing to think, he allocated the motes of light to his Perception attribute, bringing him up to 179. He would start focusing on shoring up Willpower next, but the Perception gains and investment had proven instrumental in Kyle’s combat training, and he wanted to make sure that he was in a good position to continue on his own if need be. That was also why he’d continued his investment in his physical survivability. Talking with Garth, the best bet either of them had was that he’d be reassigned to become a field medic, where he’d see frontline action on a daily basis. A far cry from the hospital environment he’d trained for. He’d be trading in hours in the lab for hours on the road, his comfortable flat near the town center for a bedroll under the stars. It wasn’t an altogether unpleasant idea, but it was a lot to take in. No matter how things went with rebuilding, his life wouldn’t look the same again. I wonder if this is what it was like for you, Grandpa. Clark didn’t often speak about his life before the Earth’s awakening and certainly hadn’t detailed the emotional rollercoaster of knowing your entire way of life was gone, never to return. In a weird way, thinking about his grandfather’s struggles made him feel more at ease in the current circumstances. Just like humanity endured and adapted after the Awakening, he would figure out how to endure whatever would come next.

Exiting meditation, Kyle stood and stretched. It was still early in the evening, and while they weren’t likely to start another full sparring session this evening, there was still more than enough time to review some of his fights with Garth and refine his footwork.

Just as he was turning to C.H.A.D.D. to ask him to give the playback, the drone shot up into the sky a good fifteen meters before descending as quickly as it rose. [DR. MAYHEW, THERE IS A GROUP OF TWELVE UNAWAKENED HUMANS UNDER ATTACK APPROXIMATELY ONE KILOMETER AWAY TO THE SOUTHEAST, PAST A THICKER AREA OF FOREST. PER PREVIOUS DIRECTIVE, YOU ASKED TO BE INFORMED ALTHOUGH⁠—]

Not waiting for C.H.A.D.D. to go off on one of his diatribes, he called out to Garth, “Other survivors! Under attack by beetles, only a kilometer away. Let’s go!” Without a word, Garth sprung to his feet, grabbed his well-worn sword, and fell in alongside Kyle as they sped in the direction C.H.A.D.D. indicated. The drone followed, but with all the progress Kyle had made over the last couple months, the little guy could no longer keep pace. In less than a minute, they’d covered the distance, the cries of combat clear in the air.

Kyle had expected a familiar scene, a swarm of beetles accosting a group of travel-weary refugees on their way to Nierburg. What he and Garth saw instead as they broke through the last tangle of trees was something entirely different —a group of six or seven refugees in a huddle, surrounded by a similarly sized group of armed men in mottled black and gray uniforms. All but two of the soldiers carried a plain-looking carbon fiber spear with a wicked steel tip, one of whom was carrying an old world hunting rifle. The last man didn’t appear to be armed at all, his gaunt frame standing casually with his arms crossed over his chest, watching his men beat their captives. The refugees were clearly battered and worn down. Kyle happened upon one of the soldiers striking a surviving man who attempted to stand with the butt of his spear, knocking him to the ground. All attention shifted to Kyle and Garth, and a surreal moment of silence came across the small clearing as each group took the measure of the other, both in shock at the unexpected sight.

The moment was broken when Garth snarled, the guttural sound snapping them all back to the present. “Carlyle you bastard, I’m finishing what we started.” With that, he drew his sword and exploded into motion, charging directly toward the gaunt man. For his part, the man—now known to Kyle as the Carlyle from the stories—burst into motion as well, a shimmering heat mirage erupting into being around him as he moved to keep the distance between himself and Garth.

That left Kyle alone with five stunned spearmen and a much-less-stunned rifleman, who raised his firearm and sighted down the barrel straight at Kyle. Thunder cracked as the bullet split the air, barely missing Kyle as he’d dodged just in time. The sharp sound seemed to be the signal the other soldiers needed, and the group readied their spears as they entered a loose half-circle formation, fanning out to cover any flanking angles Kyle could take. The man in the back once again raised his weapon, and this time Kyle didn’t dodge quite quickly enough, the bullet slamming into his shoulder.

For a normal, low-level awakened human, a shot like that would be a crippling, damaging wound. Few trained Warriors had enough Endurance to stop a gunshot before it hit vital areas, and of those, even fewer had the Vitality they’d need to recover from a wound like that during the course of a battle. So it was a natural response for the soldiers to relax as they saw their opponent reel back from the shot, confident the threat was going to be neutralized in short order.

Unfortunately for them, Kyle wasn’t most awakened.

Chapter 26

Ow, ow, ow! Not that he’d had different expectations, but getting shot hurt. Between his incredible Endurance and transformed skin, the bullet barely penetrated into his shoulder, but the impact alone was tremendous, sending Kyle reeling back in pain. Another impact slammed into his chest just a moment later, and along with the new burst of pain, clarity returned. Just like with his shoulder, the second bullet didn’t penetrate deep enough to cause real damage, and Regeneration was already hard at work, sealing the injuries. Still, Kyle could now safely add “getting shot” to his list of things he didn’t want to experience again, so rather than stand there for the marksman to fire again, Kyle took the initiative and burst toward one of the men holding a spear, the rebar in his right hand now being held in a two-handed grip.

The man stood with a slack-jawed expression, eyes widening in realization. Like his comrades-in-arms, Kyle could tell the man believed the two rifle rounds would put him down. What he had certainly not expected was for Kyle to take two rifle rounds to the chest, then, with what should have been his injured arm, heft a long piece of metal and come charging directly at him. He attempted to raise his spear to mount a defense, but Kyle smashed his leading hand with the rebar, knocking the spear entirely out of his grip. Letting go of his weapon with his own left hand, he proceeded to punch the soldier in the face with a wicked jab, breaking his nose and pushing him back further. Because of the close quarters, the man with the rifle didn’t have a clear shot, which Kyle used to his advantage, using the free left hand to grab his victim’s uniform collar and his forearm across the man’s neck. As he was already stumbling backward from the punch, Kyle took advantage of the momentum, his opponent a makeshift shield as he closed the distance toward the gunman.

To the soldier’s credit, he didn’t hesitate as he dashed in the direction of the other spearmen, who were regrouping in a tighter formation. For a moment, Kyle considered activating Haste and trying to catch the man before he got to his allies, but he dismissed the thought. There were still a lot of unknowns with his new skill, and showing it here wasn’t something he wanted to do unless it was absolutely necessary. He let go of the man in front of him, but not before punching him again for good measure. The man crashed to the ground, unmoving, as Kyle passed by. He got his two-handed grip back on the rebar as he closed the gap between himself and the four other spearmen, who were prepared for his charge. Like the pistons in an engine, each of the men thrust their spears in succession to keep Kyle occupied while their ally got into position and prepared to raise his gun again. Their tactics are way too organized for this to be a random group of survivors. The thought ran through Kyle’s head as he dodged between spears, effortlessly stepping past the strikes and into range as he took a swing with his metal staff. The blow caught one of the men across the chest, and a sickening crunch could be heard as he was sent flying backward, his bones shattering. Kyle flinched at that—while he was certain he hadn’t killed the man, he hadn’t planned on causing that much damage. Training with Garth and hunting mutated mana-infused beetles had desensitized him to just how fragile an unawakened person could be, and while he knew that these people were out to kill him, he certainly wasn’t looking to kill them. The moment of hesitation nearly cost him as the fallen man’s allies each thrust toward him again, but a dive to the left kept him out of harm’s way, though his rebar was dropped in the process. Seeing the gunman trying to get Kyle in his sights, he jumped in quickly and managed to close the distance.

The man with the gun swore as he desperately tried to line up a shot, but there was nothing left that he could accomplish as Kyle drove his fist into the man’s stomach and again into the side of his head, knocking him unconscious. The rifle fell from the man’s hands, and Kyle briefly considered picking it up before instead just kicking it away. Kyle had never held a gun before, and trying to learn how to use a brand-new weapon in the heat of combat seemed like a bad idea. Besides, Kyle wasn’t about to get into the business of murder. “You’re done. Put the spears down and get on your knees with your hands behind your head. I don’t want to hurt anybody else today.” He was aiming for a strong, confident tone of voice, but as he heard his voice trembling from the adrenaline, he knew he’d failed.

The men standing in an arc in front of him clearly noticed as well, and Kyle saw grips tightening on spears as one of the men replied, “You expect us to believe that? Don’t know what group you’re a part of, but no way your boss is gonna be okay letting us go. And no way in hell we’re gonna be taken prisoner or turn traitor.”

That threw Kyle for a loop. Boss? Are they talking about Garth? He opened his mouth to reply, just as an explosion of flame rocked the camp, accompanied by loud shouting from Garth. “Stand and fight, you coward! When I’m done with you, you’re going to wish you’d died in the fall!” More shouting followed, muffled by another blast as Kyle and the men just stared at each other. Yeah, that timing couldn’t have been much worse, Kyle thought, seeing the men tense just before they all charged him.

Before all this, Kyle wasn’t a fighter—and even though he’d been training with Garth, he still had a lot to learn. Despite his technical shortcomings, the raw athleticism provided by his attributes made him a true sight to behold as he deftly dodged spear thrusts, landing devastating punches as he weaved in and out. The men fought valiantly but simply found themselves outmatched. Each thrust was either evaded or slapped away, and even the glancing blows against them threatened to break bones. Only a handful of seconds into the fight, and the first man was down, a straight punch to the solar plexus knocking the wind out of him and cracking ribs. The second was out of the fight soon after, clutching his face after a punch to the side of the head as Kyle sidestepped a thrust. The last man left standing attempted to take advantage of that by swinging his spear in a large arc, hoping to catch Kyle off guard during his counter. Damn, damn, damn. Kyle understood why these men wouldn’t believe him when he said he didn’t want to hurt them—because he’d already hurt them plenty. Still, he wasn’t expecting that they’d be willing to put each other in harm’s way to take him down. The swing was slow, and Kyle knew as he watched it come in that he could dodge. If he did, the arc of the swing would catch the injured man behind him, oblivious to the danger he was in. While he didn’t owe the enemy soldier anything, Kyle wasn’t about to let this fight end with corpses. Crossing his arms in a tight guard, Kyle gritted his teeth and fixed his eyes on his opponent. The blade-edge of the spear sliced into his forearms but found little purchase against his reinforced skin. A small line of blood began to form, but almost as quickly as it did, the wound began to close thanks to Regeneration being active and fully working. His opponent just stood there, slack-jawed as he saw how ineffectual his strike was, the spear slipping entirely from his grasp. His eyes never leaving Kyle’s, he slumped to his knees and put his hands behind his head as a whimper escaped his mouth. Kyle couldn’t help but shudder at the fear in the man’s eyes—he looked like he’d just seen a monster.

Chapter 27

While things had been handled on Kyle’s end, they were far from it on Garth’s. He could feel his anger rising as the cat-and-mouse game they were playing continued. Carlyle easily kept the distance between them with his enhanced Agility and was unwilling to give Garth any opportunity to close the distance. While he had Air Blade and plenty of stamina to use it, at this range, Garth didn’t have confidence in landing a decisive blow. They had run all through the tree cover and were making their way around to the clearing when they both saw something that gave them pause—Garth’s snarl turning into a fierce grin, though Carlyle’s smirk twisted into something ugly. “You’re all pathetic—I leave you alone, and you can’t even deal with a single person? He’s not even armed!” Carlyle’s expression was riddled with disgust and disappointment, but it didn’t stop him from moving, and Garth’s rage returned—he just wasn’t fast enough to catch the little bastard. Out of the corner of his eye, it looked like things were in relative order with the survivors. Kyle had rounded up the uniformed men and had them kneeling with their hands above their heads—at least to the best of their ability given their injuries—and he’d taken their weaponry over to the group of survivors where he currently knelt, providing aid. He was facing the group of soldiers, and his eyes seemed locked on them as he moved, which gave Garth a small bloom of pride. The kid had really picked things up fast—he’d have been a hell of a recruit.

The heat of a passing Fireball snapped Garth’s mind back into focus, and he gritted his teeth as he realized he had no way of catching the other man. Slowing his pursuit, he breathed deeply and came to a full stop, taking a defensive stance with his sword at head height, parallel to the ground. Seeing that Garth wasn’t following, Carlyle turned and sneered. “You got lucky that it was only me this time, old timer. Next time, we’ll make sure to do to you what we did to Crystal. That caused something in Garth to snap, and before even thinking, an Air Blade was on its way to bisect Carlyle. The gaunt man had expected it, easily jumping out of the way as he launched two massive orbs of fire at the surviving men under his command. Garth swore, once again regaining control over his anger. Kyle was a good ten meters away, and without Air Blade available, he had no way of intercepting the blasts. He saw Carlyle’s perverse grin as the Fireballs exploded, but as he watched, the grin turned into an open-mouthed look of disbelief. Turning his gaze, he saw Kyle interposed between the injured soldiers and Carlyle, clothing charred, and an electric blue glow coming from his eyes.

Kyle couldn’t believe that anybody would be so low as to use awakened abilities to kill a bunch of injured captives, but he wouldn’t stand for it. He saw the glee on Carlyle’s face before he threw the Fireballs and acted, immediately activating Haste and rushing to get in front of the blow. The world slowed as he moved, his eyes and mind accelerating to keep pace with his legs. The faster he moved, the faster his Perception adjusted, and in the blink of an eye he found himself in the path of the blasts. This was where things would get hairy—he didn’t have nearly enough experience projecting and influencing mana in the atmosphere, so he’d have to take the hit head-on and hope he’d be able to use his skills to get through the worst of it. There was a moment when he realized he could still get out of the line of fire and escape. He didn’t have to hurt for these people who, moments ago, were trying to kill him. As quickly as the thought came, he dismissed it. He knew he wouldn’t be able to call himself a doctor ever again if he just stood by and watched innocent people get killed. That was not what doctors did. So he squared his shoulders and crossed his arms before his world exploded into a roar of fire.

Today was a day full of new experiences for Kyle—first learning what it was like to get shot, now learning what it was like to stand in the middle of an explosion. It was an odd sensation—the heat itself was excruciatingly painful, but the pain didn’t go much beyond the skin. This wasn’t a natural fire—it was driven by mana, and as the mana attempted to continue to produce the effect, it simply fizzled out when met with his own more powerfully circulating mana. Kyle kept Haste active, using the heightened reactions to strategically Heal his arms and head, while Regeneration was enough to keep the rest of his body in a working condition. Unfortunately, “working condition” meant that his body didn’t go into shock or have the nerve endings burned away, so he had to experience the pain for far longer than he’d anticipated. That single, searing moment felt like an eternity to Kyle’s enhanced Perception, but he didn’t dare deactivate his skill for fear that he’d miss a critical Heal. Slowly, mercifully, the light and pain subsided, and Kyle fell to a knee, smoldering but otherwise not seriously injured. It took a lot more of Kyle’s mana reserves than he’d expected, but he’d survived.

Silence returned to the clearing, all eyes on the young Healer as he struggled back to his feet, the glow in his eyes fading. Carlyle was the first to act, immediately turning to escape, his form cloaked in an intense heat mirage. Garth turned to Kyle, a frantic energy in his eyes. “You have to go after him. Whatever skill let you move that quickly could let you catch up. Go! Now!”

Kyle looked at his friend, the desperation in his eyes, and slowly shook his head. This was the worst part of working in medicine—having to give people the bad news. And while this wasn’t a perfect comparison, he’d still dealt with people who expected the impossible from him. “Garth, I can’t. This is a good show, but I’m honestly barely standing right now. Even if I caught up, he’d just hit me with more blasts like this. He’s gone, but we saved these people, Garth. There was good that came from this.”

Garth looked at the rapidly disappearing form of Carlyle before whirling back to Kyle. “Then you should have let him burn his own group of traitors and caught him when you had the chance. If you think I care more about their lives than I do bringing that man to justice, you don’t know me at all.”

Kyle’s joviality had evaporated like the steam rising from his still-healing skin, and he met Garth’s eyes with a fire that surprised even him. “I know that isn’t what you would have done, but it’s what I chose to do. I’m not going to quietly stand by and watch injured people get slaughtered, Garth, and I’ll stand against anybody who says otherwise. When I became a doctor, I took an oath, and that’s one I take seriously. I recognize this is hard for you, but don’t question me on this. It’s my call, and I’d have made it the same way if I had to do it over again.” A tense moment passed between the two, and Kyle genuinely thought for a moment, Garth was about to hit him. The other man simply turned and left, walking back in the direction of their camp, past a solitary drone that had just managed to break the tree cover.

Chapter 28

“You could have at least warned us that it wasn’t beetles,” Kyle admonished, tying the wrists of the last captive with a strip of cloth.

[YOU LEFT BEFORE I HAD THE OPPORTUNITY,] C.H.A.D.D. responded. [MAYBE NEXT TIME, YOU’LL WAIT FOR A FULL DIAGNOSTIC REPORT BEFORE CHOOSING A TREATMENT PLAN.]

While Kyle wasn’t sure if it was possible for the flat robotic voice to sound smug, C.H.A.D.D. was as close to it as Kyle had ever heard.

“You’ve got to give us at least a bit of a break, these were the first other humans we’d seen in a long time. It’s only natural we’d want to hurry and help.”

[AS A POINT OF CLARIFICATION, DR. MAYHEW, PUTTING YOURSELF AT RISK WITHOUT ALL THE FACTS WOULDN’T BE DEFINED AS ‘HELPING,’ IT WOULD BE DEFINED AS ‘FOOLISH.’]

Well, fair point there.

Tugging on the knot to ensure it was secure, Kyle considered their next steps. The people they’d rescued were still huddled in a group, talking in hushed tones. It looked like the man he’d seen get hit earlier was the unofficial leader of the group, and Kyle went over toward him, keeping an eye on the group of bound captives.

“My name’s Kyle; I’m with a group of other survivors making our way to Nierburg. I can only imagine what you’ve all been through, but it’s important that we keep moving. You’re welcome to come with and join the group; otherwise, we part ways here.” Selfishly, Kyle wanted them to come along, but he’d seen enough patients in trauma to know the power of offering agency. If he told them they had to come with, they would, but that’s an easy way to start fostering resentment. That would go doubly so after watching two powerful awakened dispatch a force that had them dead to rights. There was a pause as the man looked at his group, then he extended his hand as he responded.

“I’m Graham, Graham Paulson. We were also on the way to Nierburg. If you’re willing to let us travel with you, we’d very much appreciate it.” Kyle smiled as he took the man’s hand, and the group quickly got to work, following Kyle’s instructions.

A short while later, Kyle had the group of captives moving toward their camp, the survivors they’d saved having been outfitted with the spears. The gun he’d entrusted to a man who went by Gleason, who had claimed he’d used one before. That made Kyle more than a little skeptical—firearms were heavily regulated—but he decided to trust the man with the weapon anyway. He would have preferred to give it to Garth, but unfortunately, his friend had taken off without helping to organize this group.

Kyle understood why he was upset, though he was surprised Garth hadn’t at least stayed to organize. Putting his concerns out of his head, he turned to Gleason, who was walking alongside him at the rear of the group. “Where did you all come from? You’re the first group we’ve seen in weeks.”

Gleason ran a hand through his short blonde hair, almost seeming embarrassed to answer. “I—uh, I mean we… we were part of a confection team from Nierburg, out on delivery to Albaum. We were doing an inventory in one of their walk-in coolers when everything happened, and by the time we got clear, all… this had happened.”

Kyle wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but a group of pastry chefs certainly wasn’t at the top of the list. Pushing some of his curiosity aside, he asked the most pressing question first. “Albaum is barely a day from here, and the notice to congregate in Nierburg was sent the better part of a month ago. Why are you only getting on the road now?” Kyle kept his tone light, but there was a creeping concern that there might be more to it than met the eye here. The man’s blush deepened, his eyes looking toward the ground as he mumbled his response.

“We finally ran out of food. None of us were all that eager to get back and work under DeRosa again, but when the food finally started to run short, we knew we had to leave. You won’t tell him, will you?” There was almost a note of pleading in the man’s voice, and Kyle figured that of all the issues he’d have to handle when they made it to Nierburg, sharing the secrets of a group of rogue pâtissiers was probably not high on the list.

“As far as I’m concerned, I’ve heard nothing.” Gleason looked up and smiled at that, relief clear in his expression.

“I appreciate that, sir. And thank you for your help. If it wasn’t for you, who knows where we’d be.”

Kyle and Gleason continued to talk as they made their way back toward the camp, Kyle sharing some of what he’d seen during his travels and Gleason mostly sharing stories about Councilman DeRosa’s peculiarities. Turnover was quite high amongst his culinary team, and Kyle gained an appreciation for why they weren’t terribly eager to get back under his thumb.

The hope they were holding on to was that with the world in its current condition, they would hopefully have more important things to do than work on pastries for the councilman. C.H.A.D.D. led the group into the clearing where Garth was debriefing Thomas and Dalen on the events, and the two men quickly walked over as Kyle waved in greeting. A grin on his face, Thomas was the first to speak as he approached.

“You sure don’t do anything halfway, do you, Mayhew? You got Garth good and pissed off.”

Kyle’s smile faded as he met Thomas’s eyes. “I did what I thought was right. I get that he’s upset, but if I had to make the same choice again, I’d do it all over.”

Thomas raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, his easy smile not changing. “Hey, I’m not judging or questioning, man. Garth asked us to help you and we will, though you should probably go talk to him. What do you need us to do?”

Dalen nodded his agreement, adding, “I’m willing to help so long as there’s nobody here that matches my heroics. Image to keep and all that.” Despite himself, Kyle couldn’t help but smile. These two had been a real breath of fresh air for Kyle over the past weeks, and he was relieved that they were still on his side, despite the tension between him and Garth.

Kyle introduced the two of them to Gleason and Graham and shared his plan with them. “Look, I know we don’t really have capacity to form a full guard, and I don’t expect any of you to try and fight. Just keep an eye out and shout if something seems amiss. Garth or I are more than capable of handling them if things start going sour, but I don’t think it’ll come to that.”

Graham frowned. “I admire the optimism, but I’m afraid to say I don’t share it. How can you be certain they aren’t going to try something?”

“Because honestly, they don’t have much of a choice.”

Chapter 29

Kyle looked up and down the row at his prisoners, and not for the first time in the day, contemplated the series of events that had put him in this position. He knew many of the patients at his hospital sometimes felt like he was a jailor and tormentor, but this took it to an entirely different extreme. An extreme that, if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. Still, with the situation as it stood, he knew he didn’t have the luxury of entertaining any doubts. Squaring his shoulders and straightening his back, he addressed the group. “My name is Kyle Mayhew. I don’t know any of you, and you don’t know me. What you do know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, is that I’ve treated you better in the short time that I’ve known you than Carlyle did in however long he worked with you. He saw you as liabilities. Frankly, so do I. But I wasn’t willing to stand by and watch beaten men die.

“You weren’t a threat to myself or others, and I intervened. You all need to understand that if you do anything to threaten the safety of the innocent people here, you’ve made my choice an easy one. What you’ll find is that you have a pretty simple and short list of options. First, you can travel with us quietly to Nierburg and avoid making trouble. In that case, you’ll live. You’ll be handed to the Central Authority, where you will be asked to share what you know about Carlyle and his group. Your second choice is to do anything other than choice number one. You can try to run, free yourselves, or take a hostage. You can create an interpretive dance. Frankly, I don’t care. If you do anything that puts the people in this camp in danger, that’s it. I didn’t have a problem handling you when you were armed, and I certainly won’t have a problem with it now. I can also assure you that of the two of us you encountered earlier, I’m far and away the nicer one.”

With that sentence, he gestured with his head in the direction where Garth was meditating, the rest of the camp giving him a wide berth. The captives looked from Garth to the sword in its scabbard beside him, and Kyle watched as the defeat really sank in. He didn’t like using fear and these types of threats to get what he needed—he’d tried and failed on more occasions than he could count to get his patients to make healthier lifestyle choices with fear—but he was confident that it would be enough to get to Nierburg. From there, it would be in the hands of the Central Authority to figure out what they wanted to do with their prisoners. Given the chaos they were embroiled in, Kyle couldn’t help but think that there would be some leniency. If there wasn’t room for grace at the end of the world, when would you find it?

Carlyle pushed himself to his limits as he covered the ground back to Duilleag. His lungs burned with every breath, and his muscles screamed for him to slow, but he gritted his teeth as he kept pushing. Overheat wasn’t designed for this type of prolonged use, but he wanted to get as much distance between him and the stranger as he could. Garth was a known quantity, easy to navigate after the levels and increased control he’d been developing over his powers. The stranger was something else entirely. He had crossed a distance that Carlyle had assumed impossible in the blink of an eye, and what’s more he took a fully charged Fireball head on without a moment’s hesitation. Movement and durability at that level weren’t something that Carlyle felt at all capable of contending with, especially not with another awakened in play.

As slow and predictable as Garth was, he was still dangerous. Not nearly as dangerous as the man Carlyle had to answer to, but still plenty dangerous. Just as he felt Overheat cross into truly dangerous territory, he released the skill, pulling out his canteen of water and drinking deeply. He felt the mana within him flowing sluggishly, overused during his flight. Still, he’d crossed a respectable distance. What they’d planned for an unawakened group to cover in a week, Carlyle had covered in a few short hours, and even without his boosting skill, he’d be able to make it to Duilleag before nightfall. Unfortunately, the most dangerous part of the journey was still in front of him. For all the dangers he’d just escaped, he didn’t look forward to telling Gregory Valentine that he’d lost an entire squadron of men.

Can’t even meditate properly. Well, damn. Garth was doing his best to calm down, the rage inside him still seething in the hours since they’d returned to the camp. Seeing Carlyle again opened wounds that hadn’t had a chance to heal, and with revenge so close. He hated that Kyle had chosen to let Carlyle get away. No, that’s not right. Garth corrected himself, I hate that I was too weak to kill him myself. Once again, I was just too weak. That was a disappointment Garth had wrestled with for a while, and it was one that kept stinging. For all his power, he didn’t have what it took to protect the people most precious to him. He thought about Crystal, about Dylan. He thought about how they would have eased the journey or gotten along with Kyle. And that, it turned out, was the key for him. He knew his friends would have gotten along with the strange young man, just as he knew that they would have trusted his judgment with the call he’d made. Crystal would have been horrified if he’d let innocents get killed for something as petty as revenge, and he expected Dylan would have felt much the same. While the pain and anger didn’t fade, Garth knew that he couldn’t continue to direct these feelings at Kyle. With a sigh, he opened his eyes and rose from his position on the ground, picking up his sword. He saw Kyle walking toward him and prepared himself for the dressing down he deserved.

“Garth, I’m sorry.” The words startled the older man, and he found himself at a loss for words. Kyle continued, “I can only imagine what you were going through having to confront Carlyle like that. He’s responsible for taking a lot from you, and in the moment you needed me to be stronger, I wasn’t. I don’t regret protecting these people, but if I were stronger, maybe I could have caught him. If I had taken your training more seriously at the start, maybe this would have played out differently.”

Garth saw the earnest expression on the young man’s face, and he held out his hand. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, kid. You made the call you should have made, and I see that. I’m not happy with how things ended, but that’s an issue for another day. My reaction… was excessive. I’ll have a lot to work through once we’re settled in Nierburg, that’s for sure.”

Kyle took Garth’s hand in a firm grip, a resolute smile on his face. “We’ll get there, Garth. You’ve done a great thing for these people and for me. And none of us will forget that.” Garth smiled at the words, though a part of him was still unsettled. Kyle had been hiding an abnormally powerful boosting skill. And why would he have kept it a secret, if not to have an ace at a critical moment? Did he really feel like he needed to have something like that in reserve to turn the tides if things went badly? Did he distrust Garth that much? Kyle seemed to notice the doubt behind his eyes, and he turned as he released the younger man’s hand.

“Tomorrow will be a good opportunity to close this chapter,” Garth finally said. “Go get some rest; I’ll keep watch on them. You can take the second watch.”

Kyle was still a little unsettled by Garth’s demeanor, but exhaustion and hunger won out as he made his way to his usual area of the camp to settle in and relax before the evening meal.

Chapter 30

Carlyle was sweating as he entered the compound, and it wasn’t a side effect of his skill. He had joined the Liberation when he was very young, his parents having been members for years. They hadn’t expected the cataclysm from the sky, but it had proved to be the perfect signal for them to act. Just like the Central Authority, they had taken major casualties. Carlyle’s parents hadn’t made it, but he had every conviction that they would have been proud of what they’d been able to accomplish. Gregory sought him out as soon as he could, setting him on the path to infiltrate Duilleag and build the foundation for the new Liberation headquarters. Without his position in the camp, Carlyle knew it would have cost them dearly to take the outpost in a full-on assault.

He also knew that his victories came with black marks. First, Garth survived. Gregory had made it clear that he didn’t want any Central Authority sympathizers to survive among the awakened, but Garth had not only managed to survive, but he also drove Carlyle off. While he’d participated in some successful raids, taking supplies and prisoners among the unawakened was hardly an accomplishment for someone of his skill level.

Frankly, he’d felt it a little insulting to be put on those duties in the first place. But now, in his second encounter against Garth, he’d lost an entire squadron of soldiers. Worse still, the soldiers had survived the ordeal, and their armaments were taken. All thanks to the stranger. Any way he sliced it, this was a colossal failure, and he wasn’t looking forward to paying the price.

He saw the concerned faces of the other members as he made his way to the repurposed Central Defense supply depot, their worry fading into grim understanding as they saw him entering alone. The Liberation had grown over the last several months, their numbers bolstered by some of the survivors they’d come across, but the organization was still small. Fewer than fifty people occupied the ruined town, so the loss of Carlyle’s raiding group was significant. What was worse, they were entrusted with one of the few firearms available and had lost it.

“What are you looking at?” Carlyle snapped, causing one of the onlookers to flinch. “Nothing better to do than gawk at an injured man? If I didn’t have places to be, I’d show you your place, trash. Get out of my sight.” Carlyle’s outburst spurred the onlookers to action, quickly dispersing and leaving a path to the depot ahead of him. That might have been a little much, he thought to himself, considering his options.

The problem was that he was one of Valentine’s lieutenants, and officers shouldn’t have the rank and file in a position to gossip or fixate on his failure. No, keeping up the appearance of control and favor was too important. Dreading what came next, Carlyle walked into the conference room, where Gregory Valentine and his other awakened were already waiting. Carlyle knew that word of his arrival would have made it here quickly, but it surprised him that two of the other three awakened had bothered to come listen to the report. Cornelius and Tucker stood in the room chatting, the two men in absurd contrast to one another.

Cornelius was a mountain of a man, well over two meters tall and almost as wide, with a wild mane of brown hair. A leather strap held a monstrous battle axe across his back, and he was clearly amused at the sight of Carlyle’s spindly and burnt form slinking toward the room. On the other side of the conference table, Tucker leaned against the wall, his dark skin matching the black leather gear, all covered by a mottled cloak and hood. His eyes could barely be seen through the shadows of the hood, but Carlyle felt his gaze and did his best to match the look without flinching. He was one of the few men who made a point to shave regularly and had attractive masculine features.

Any time they’d spoken, the man seemed aloof, although now Carlyle noticed the man’s hand slip to one of the revolvers he kept on his side. He knew these men didn’t trust him—they had served in Central Defense alongside Gregory for years, while Carlyle was an unknown, only given rank due to his family ties and awakened powers. Beyond their distrust, they looked down on him. He knew that there was merit to their stance. The same part told him beyond a shadow of a doubt that either of these men had the capacity to kill him.

That important piece of context was enough to splash metaphorical cold water on his rising temper, his eyes finally moving to the most dangerous man in the room. Gregory Valentine sat behind the large table, hands folded. He wore light gray combat fatigues, with a rapier in a scabbard on his left hip, and a heavy-looking dagger sheathed on his right. His ash-colored hair had grown unkempt, and the previously well-trimmed mustache had reached ridiculous proportions, each side hanging halfway down his neck. His skin was like worn leather, a testament to a lifetime spent out in the elements. At first glance, he appeared to just be an old man past his prime, but upon meeting his eyes, Carlyle was once again impressed by the intensity within the dark brown gaze. This was an apex predator, a man with a powerful variant class and decades of combat in which he honed it. Carlyle knew that he had to be pushing level fifty, maybe even beyond. Then and again, what else would you expect from the former third-in-command of Central Defense?

“This is turning into a familiar sight, Carlyle,” Cornelius boomed, a grin spreading across his face. He brought the tree trunk he called an arm down around Carlyle’s shoulders, causing the smaller man to stagger under the unexpected weight. “Maybe it’s time to put you on cooking duty. It’ll probably push your mana a bit, but at least you’d be able to do something useful.” Carlyle returned the man’s grin with a sneer, but before he could make a remark, a cold voice from behind the desk pierced the room. “Enough Cornelius. Either take a seat or get out of the room. Carlyle, report.” Valentine’s voice was calm, but the tone of absolute authority sent chills through both men, Cornelius extricating the smaller man from his arm and heading back to the chair he’d been sitting in before.

Carlyle took a breath. “We had tracked a group from Albaum and had finally caught them about a day’s travel from Nierburg. We were in the process of taking them captive when Boltsbury showed up with another awakened. The stranger fought with our men, while Boltsbury targeted me. While we fought, I saw the stranger get shot twice and thought they had it handled. By the time I’d circled back, he’d somehow beaten them. Rather than let our men get taken, I tried to tie off the loose ends, but the stranger also had some sort of boosting skill and was able to intercept my attack. I made the call that you should be informed rather than risk capture or death, so I returned.”

Silence fell over the room for what felt like an eternity, Carlyle fully expecting Valentine to give the order to have him punished. Instead, the old man simply nodded. “Could have gone much worse. Garth was always persistent. Shame he’s been such a loyal dog for the Central Authority. We have agents in Nierburg. They’ll make sure the men don’t share anything.”

A thoughtful expression crossed his face, and it seemed he had come to some sort of decision. “You mentioned this stranger took a bullet and kept fighting, as well as activated an agility boosting skill of some potency. The list of people who can do that is pretty short, and I know most of them. How fast was he?”

“At least as fast as I am with Overheat at maximum output, if not faster.” Suddenly the old man blurred out from behind the desk and Carlyle felt cold steel pressed against his neck. “Was he faster than that?” Valentine asked, a predatory smile on his lips. Careful not to move too quickly, Carlyle slowly shook his head.

The knife left Carlyle’s neck and made it back to the sheath. The old man made his way back to the desk at normal speed. “That’s all. You’re dismissed, I’ll send orders soon.” Carlyle nodded and walked out of the room, feeling the stares from Cornelius and Tucker boring into his back. They’ll get theirs. Carlyle thought, then felt another shudder go through him. It was not every day a monster like Valentine shows his abilities, and speed like that was absolutely insane. For all the threat that Garth and this stranger were to him, they couldn’t hold a candle to the old monster leading Liberation.

Chapter 31

The energy in the camp was electric as they packed their meager possessions. The last of the rations were used up as they fed their unexpected arrivals, with Kyle ensuring that even their prisoners got something to eat. He was relieved that they hadn’t tried anything last night but wasn’t fully convinced of their obedience until it was all said and done. He was prepared to handle them if necessary, but more than anything, he was concerned with how ready Garth seemed to be for them to act up. From what Kyle could tell, the older man had spent his evening with his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to make a move. While he certainly didn’t feel any sympathy or kinship toward these men, he wasn’t keen on the idea of a bloodbath either.

He did a quick circuit of the camp, but everything seemed well in hand. He walked over to Gleason, who was taking a shift supervising the captives. “How’d everything go last night on your end?” Gleason smiled, the rifle still slung on his shoulder.

“Much better than it could have. Enjoyed getting to know your crew a bit more, too.”

Kyle nodded in agreement. “They’re good people for sure; I’m glad you all had a chance to meet. Who knows what we’ll be getting ourselves into when we get to Nierburg, but hopefully we’ll be in a position to continue to work together.”

Gleason snorted back, “Doubtful with that prick DeRosa in charge. Seems like no matter what I do, he makes my life more miserable. The end of the bloody world isn’t enough to change that.”

Kyle frowned, his curiosity finally pushed beyond the point of letting it sit. “You’ve all had nothing but terrible things to say about Councilman DeRosa. My understanding is that you all served on his culinary team. With all due respect, how bad could it have been?”

There was a pause as Gleason considered his words, but the balding man finally responded, “It’s not just us, Kyle. Victor doesn’t care about anybody beyond the purpose he thinks they serve. Folks like us are so far below his notice most of the time, but he still goes out of his way to punish us if something’s not perfect. If he thinks the frosting is uneven on a bloody cake, the man’ll make sure your pay gets docked. He might be the big man in charge now, but I’ve worked for enough different people over the years to know that folks like him don’t change. No matter what else he is, he’ll always be a petty, micromanaging pain in the…” Gleason was cut off by a call from Graham, who was asking for assistance organizing the Albaum contingent before they took off.

With a knowing look, he left Kyle alone near the captives, who still hadn’t tried to make any sort of move despite their bonds. Kyle turned to the small drone floating near him and decided this brief moment of quiet would be the perfect time to connect with his robotic companion before they finished this last leg of the journey. “C.H.A.D.D., any concerns on your end before we get to Nierburg?”

The drone quickly responded, [DR. MAYHEW, I DON’T HAVE A FRAME OF REFERENCE FOR CONCERN. DIAGNOSTICALLY, I AM CAPABLE OF PERFORMING MY FUNCTIONS, AND NOTHING FURTHER SEEMS TO BE AMISS. ARE YOU FEELING WELL? WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO PERFORM ANY SPECIFIC TYPE OF SCAN?]

“No, C.H.A.D.D., I’m fine. It just feels… bizarre that this is all almost over. I’m looking forward to getting back to something normal again.”

[AS A POINT OF ORDER, DR. MAYHEW, THINGS WILL NOT BE RETURNING TO NORMAL UPON OUR ARRIVAL TO NIERBURG. DESPITE MULTIPLE ATTEMPTS, I HAVE BEEN UNABLE TO CONNECT TO THE MANA NETWORK, EVEN WHEN USING THE DAMAGED GUARD ARRAY AS AN INTERMEDIARY. THE SOURCE OF THE DEVASTATION IS STILL UNKNOWN, AND EVEN THIS FAR AWAY FROM THE ORIGIN OF THE BLASTS, ROGUE MANA CONTINUES TO BE A SERIOUS PROBLEM FOR UNAWAKENED.] There was an uncomfortable silence that followed the drone’s matter-of-fact run-down of the facts, until it added, almost as an afterthought, [AND YOU HAVE AT LEAST 438 AMBULATORY VIOLATIONS THAT WILL NEED TO BE LOGGED AT THE NEAREST CENTRAL HEALTH. THIS WILL MOST ASSUREDLY RESULT IN A CORRECTIVE ACTION AT MINIMUM.]

Kyle stood there, shocked. “C.H.A.D.D., I’d assumed you’d noticed that we aren’t exactly… in an ambulance?”

[THAT WAS NOTED, DR. MAYHEW.]

“So, maybe there’s no need to report it?”

[YOU ARE A MENACE TO THE PUBLIC HEALTH, DR. MAYHEW. IT WOULD BE IRRESPONSIBLE NOT TO REPORT YOU. HAD YOU BEEN DRIVING INSTEAD OF WALKING, I CAN ONLY IMAGINE THE AMOUNT OF RECKLESS ENDANGERMENT YOUR HABITS WOULD HAVE CAUSED. YOU SPENT HOURS AND HOURS WATCHING RECORDINGS OF YOURSELF WHEN YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT YOUR EYES ON THE ROAD.]

Well, C.H.A.D.D. had him there. If he was as distracted driving as he had been these last few months, he could see the little drone’s point. His brow furrowed as he considered how to talk his way out of this one, only for C.H.A.D.D. to continue. [I COULD BE PERSUADED NOT TO REPORT YOUR AMBULATORY INFRACTIONS IF YOU WOULD AVOID REPORTING MY… PROGRAMMING ECCENTRICITIES.]

Did I just get blackmailed by a drone? Kyle thought, considering the strange request. C.H.A.D.D., for its part, floated expectantly near Kyle’s face, seemingly unperturbed by the request.

Kyle thought about all the changes in the drone’s behaviors since it had been running on the strange ambient mana, and the answer came to Kyle in a simple, crystal-clear fashion. C.H.A.D.D. was afraid. Maybe the drone didn’t have a grid to handle that yet, but it was staring down likely disassembly and destruction because of the ways its programming had adapted. The Guard Array had connected to the newly established mana network just fine, but C.H.A.D.D. had unsuccessfully tried… damn, every fifteen minutes for weeks? At least Kyle had some outlets to avoid the existential dread, and the more he thought about it, the worse he felt. Over the weeks with C.H.A.D.D., Kyle had grown to consider the little drone a friend, and the last thing he wanted was to leave his buddy in a lurch. “You know what? You’ve convinced me. We’ve got a deal.”

The drone floated and bumped into Kyle’s chest before speaking. [I’M NOT ENTIRELY SURE HOW TO INDICATE THE DEAL HAS BEEN STRUCK, TYPICALLY I BELIEVE THIS IS DONE WITH A HANDSHAKE. SO THAT WILL HAVE TO DO.]

Kyle tried and failed to keep the smile off his face. “That works for me, C.H.A.D.D.”

Garth watched the captives and Kyle from the corner of his eye while he finalized the logistics of their last day of travel. His temper had calmed a lot from the previous day, but he could still feel the anger deep in his chest. The prisoners were up to something, Garth just knew it. There was no way that they would be willing to go along quietly after what they’d done; the entire foundation of the Central Authority was built to prevent this type of mercenary behavior. He knew they had a plan of some sort, and he’d be ready for it.

He looked to Kyle again, watching the little drone bump into his chest for some reason. No doubt the equipment was getting faulty, and seeing the weird smile on Kyle’s face, he once again thought back on the boosting skill he’d seen yesterday. He didn’t think Kyle was some sort of wicked mastermind, but he was more certain than ever that Kyle was dangerous. He admonished himself for letting his guard down so much over the last few weeks. He’d been desperate to have another equal and let go of his caution too quickly. The most likely scenario from Garth’s view was that, beyond the deviance in his skills and attributes, Kyle wasn’t mentally stable. He’d clearly been through a lot, but seeing him laughing at the drone, saving these enemies, all of it spoke to a deterioration in judgment. Garth knew he’d need to talk to Kyle about it soon, but that was a conversation that could wait until they settled in Nierburg.

The group finished getting their affairs in order, and within the hour they trudged down the road. Garth had taken the lead position with Thomas and Dalen, while Kyle and the contingent from Albaum brought up the rear to ensure the captives stayed in line. The march was uneventful, and Garth felt a spike of irritation that once again they seemed perfectly well-behaved. He was hoping they would have shown their colors by now, but not even a stray beetle barred their path as they pushed through into a clearing and saw Nierburg.

As with many major cities, there was an open field between the heavier vegetation and the city proper. A wall had been erected around the city, made of a combination of earthworks, rubble, and fortifications clearly created by skills. A flicker in the air indicated to Garth that a series of Guard Arrays were active and filtering the ambient mana near the city, and he breathed a sigh of relief. The children would be much better off beneath this dome of protection. Whispers in the group behind him confirmed the others had seen what he had, and excitement seemed to be building. After the hell they’d been through, they’d finally made it to Nierburg.

Chapter 32

The group approached the walled city, and Kyle felt a strange twinge of disappointment that there wasn’t a gate from the direction they approached. It made sense, but it felt a little anticlimactic to walk the perimeter of the city for over a kilometer to find an entrance. When they found it, though, Kyle’s disappointment faded. The walls thickened near the gate, and Kyle saw guard posts set several meters back along the top of the walls. They were being watched as they approached, and that was affirmed as C.H.A.D.D. floated closer, quietly speaking, [DR. MAYHEW, OVER A DOZEN INDIVIDUALS ARE SUPERVISING OUR APPROACH. MANA DENSITY WOULD INDICATE THAT THERE ARE AT LEAST FOUR AWAKENED AMONG THE GROUP.]

That was certainly quite the welcoming party, though to a degree that this was more in line with what he had expected. He’d learned more about Councilman DeRosa over the past day, and while he sounded like an objectively terrible manager, he also sounded undeniably competent and thorough. And honestly, Kyle felt that was a fair trade-off given the end of the world and all.

Garth signaled for the team to stop and sent Thomas to the rear of the group to speak with Kyle as he stepped forward to introduce themselves to the team guarding the gate. Kyle was most interested in what was happening with Garth, but forced himself to focus on what Thomas had to say. The other man leaned in close and spoke quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Garth thinks if the captives are going to try something, it’ll be right about now. He wants you to be ready to do what you have to.”

That was a bit of a shock to hear, but as Kyle considered the words, they made a lot of sense. If he was taken captive by a group of hostiles and was about to enter the belly of the beast, he’d probably try to get out before crossing that gate too. “Thanks for the advice, Thomas. I’ll keep a close eye out in case they do.”

Thomas nodded and shook Kyle’s hand before making his way back to the front, leaving Kyle and Gleason in the rear. The captives milled nervously as they waited, which only increased the level of concern. What kind of play could they make? Were they going to try to make a run for it? Possibly try to take Gleason’s gun? The nervous thoughts continued to race through his head until, finally—blessedly—Garth finished his conversation with the gatekeepers and turned back to the group.

“They’re going to be coming through soon to do a scan and get you all registered for entry. They’re going to start with our guests and get them sorted first, then they’ll work on the prisoners before wrapping up with the original group from Duilleag. This is Porter Rathman. He’s the E Grade who will be taking point on the entry procedures. Treat him like you’d treat me, and we’ll be through before you know it. It’s been an honor traveling with you all, and I look forward to working alongside you again as we rebuild. Porter, they’re all yours.”

Contrary to Garth’s travel-worn and rugged look, Porter Rathman wore a neatly pressed Central Defense uniform, his perfectly coiffed and oiled black hair matched by the shine on his perfect black combat boots. He was clean shaven with piercing brown eyes, and though he carried no weapons that Kyle could see, he had an aura about him that indicated danger. He made his way to the back where Gleason clutched the rifle, holding out his hand to take the weapon.

Gleason seemed less than excited at the prospect of handing it over, but with a gentle nod from Kyle, he passed the firearm over and walked toward the gate with the others from the Albaum group. Kyle watched Porter as he brought a C.H.A.D.D. out from the gatehouse to scan each of the survivors as they walked up, after which they were permitted to enter the city. A contingent of Central Administration staff were already prepared to guide them to their next destinations. Graham was the last of the contingent to enter, turning to give Kyle a warm smile and a wave as he entered.

Next was the group of captives they’d taken, and Kyle found his body tensing, ready to take action if they tried to make a move. Once again subverting expectations, they went in silently, sharing looks with one another but otherwise following orders without issue. Kyle identified a man in a Central Administration uniform speaking with a member of Central Defense, with the group’s ragged cloth bindings being replaced with mana-reinforced steel cuffs. Kyle felt relieved as they went, the potential for violence averted. He was still curious what their plan was now that they had been captured, but a part of him hoped that they’d taken some of his words to heart. If they realized that their leadership would soon have killed them, there might be hope for rehabilitation. Either way, he felt a burden lift off of his shoulders. His choosing not to let these people die had caused a rift to form between himself and Garth, and having them dealt with would hopefully leave room for reconciliation.

Next was the group from Duilleag, starting with the children. Gwen waved to him again as she went in, and the relief on her mother’s face was palpable. She looked back as well, mouthing a quick “Thank you” as she went in, her blonde hair in a tight braid falling down her back. The rest of the group continued to make their way in, and to Kyle’s surprise, Thomas, Amir, and Dalen all moved to the back of the line to express their thanks.

“You guys realize I’ll be seeing you in there in just a few minutes, right?” Kyle said, trying to ease the tension he saw in the men.

“Hey, you never know exactly what they’ll do with a fancy E Grade like you,” Dalen said, a smile on his face. “In case I don’t get the chance later, I wanted to say thank you again. You were a real godsend for us, and especially for me. I have no idea where they’ll put you to work, but you’ve done right by us. So thanks.”

Kyle smiled as he took the man’s hand, Amir nodding his agreement before adding, “You’re good people, Kyle. Thanks for the stories and, well, everything else.”

Thomas just snorted and tossed his flask to Kyle, smiling as he turned his back. “Just don’t get too bogged down in the paperwork. Have a drink on me, then you’ll be responsible for the refill.”

Kyle frowned as he shook the flask, feeling no liquid sloshing inside. “Thomas, this is empty.”

The man laughed heartily as he made his way toward the gate. “Then don’t make us wait too long!”

Kyle watched his friends enter, with Porter coming out to speak with him and Garth after the rest of the unawakened had been processed and were waiting for their Central Administration guides. “Mr. Bolstbury had you watching the captives, so despite the redundancy, I’ll share the process. You’ll be scanned by our C.H.A.D.D. and any credentials you have will be reactivated. From there, you’ll go to a processing interview with Central Administration, who will find an appropriate place for an Awakened with your skill set.”

Kyle nodded his understanding as a question came to his mind. “I’ve actually been traveling with a C.H.A.D.D. I was with Central Health in Newton. Would its credentials suffice? It’s been tracking our journey, but for some reason it hasn’t been able to establish a connection with the mana network. If there’s a way to firm up the connection, it’d clear up any questions in no time flat.”

Porter considered for a moment before shaking his head. “We’d have to get an exception for either a mana network connection or repairs, both of which would take you or the drone into Nierburg. We’ll do verification, and then process from there.”

Kyle shrugged, walking over toward the significantly shinier C.H.A.D.D., and smiling, prepared for the scan. “My name is Dr. Kyle Mayhew, Central Health Newton. Employee Code AIX-6599877.”

The drone scanned him once over, and after a few agonizing seconds passed, it spoke. [BIOMETRIC MARKERS AND MANA SIGNATURE DO NOT MATCH RECORDS FOR DR. MAYHEW. UNKNOWN E GRADE, SUSPECTED ILLEGAL PROCUREMENT OF EMPLOYEE CODE.]

In the blink of an eye, Porter raised his left arm palm-first toward Kyle, mana crackling like lightning from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers. “It would seem that there’s more here than meets the eye. Don’t move a muscle.”

Chapter 33

Kyle met Porter’s eyes without a word, the only sound to be heard the gentle crackling of electric mana coursing around Porter’s hand. Kyle was confident he could survive whatever the other man could throw at him but also knew that if things got out of hand here, there was no coming back. He considered putting his hands up and trying to say something to diffuse the situation, but the readiness with which Porter had prepared his skill made Kyle second guess that decision. It was as likely as not that the other man was waiting for an excuse to flex his power, and Kyle didn’t want to give him a reason. So they stood motionless, squared off against one another, until Garth walked between them, breaking the tension. “There’s no need for this to escalate; I’m sure there’s a misunderstanding. Stand down, Rathman, let’s figure this out peacefully.”

With clear reluctance, Porter lowered his hand, the concentrated mana being reabsorbed into his body with a series of cracks and sparks. “Mr. Boltsbury, this is a highly unusual case. I respect your station enough to keep things peaceful, but this will need to be elevated. If anything goes wrong, I need you to understand that you and all those you came with will be held accountable as well. If you aren’t comfortable with that, I suggest you encourage your friend here to stand still.”

With that, he turned his back to Garth and Kyle, calling up to the other E Grade guards on the wall. “Pass everything along to the councilman’s staff. We have an awakened claiming to be from Newton that doesn’t match the records. Further, he arrived alongside a delegation from Duilleag, with assurances given by one Garth Boltsbury. The situation is currently contained but could escalate quickly.” One of the men atop the wall disappeared, ostensibly passing the message along.

It didn’t pass Kyle’s notice that the others still had weapons trained on him, despite Porter’s appearance of calm. With nothing else to do, Kyle turned to Garth. “Gotta be honest here, this isn’t exactly what I expected would happen.”

Garth looked at him, and Kyle saw an incredible weariness in the man’s expression. “You don’t match the records, Kyle. That makes this a whole hell of a lot harder.”

“Garth, it’s been months since we left. I’ve gained levels and skills since the last time my credentials were upgraded. I’m sure there’s a contingency for circumstances like these. It’ll work out fine.”

Garth’s lips pressed into a line as he visibly collected himself, frustration threating to boil over. “It’s not fine, Kyle. You aren’t the only one who’s been out in this crazy mana. My credentials were fine. Thomas, Dalen; hell, even Gwen’s credentials were all fine. Whatever’s going on here, I’m not going to let my people be put in danger because of your secrets.” With that, Garth settled against the far wall, one hand resting casually on his sword as he turned to face Kyle, the weariness in his eyes only growing deeper.

Victor DeRosa was having a bad day. There was an endless stream of important work to get done, but for some reason today it felt like nobody could so much as blow their nose without getting Victor’s approval. He had hoped to spend his day sipping wine and working on ways to further integrate his mana into the budding mana network he’d repaired, but instead he found himself drowning in administrative tasks. Addison from Central Communication had grown to be an increasing bother over the past weeks, consistently submitting requests for additional resources and audits of his work, clearly looking for Victor’s approval. While there was a time and a place for this type of politicking, Victor found himself getting increasingly frustrated with the man. He’d been consistently unable to solve the mana network problem on his own, had been a leech for resources, and now was committing the worst transgression of all, taking up Victor’s time. If it wasn’t for Addison’s division being so enamored with the man, he would have had him removed months ago. But as much as that idea tempted him, he knew he didn’t yet have the manpower available to manage the day-to-day of Central Communication. That was growing more critical than ever as the mana network continued to expand from the hub, and already the amount of raw data available to them through the connected drones was incredible. At this very moment, Victor had Reynolds and the force he led in Central Defense reviewing logs indicating a number of bandit presences and developing military threat assessments, and he couldn’t afford to have them neglect that work at this point.

As if that wasn’t enough, he’d received word that his old confection team had returned largely unharmed from Albaum. Their presumed demise was one of the few highlights of the apocalypse, but now they were back to darken his doorstep once more. While they could at least trim a sandwich appropriately, they failed to grasp many of the nuances of fine cuisine for an awakened palate. His awakening brought heightened senses, and these so-called chefs just couldn’t execute the way he needed them to. He was considering where these resources would be best deployed when, once again, the Communication Array in his private quarters pinged an incoming call. As he went over to the small cylinder, he frowned when he saw it was from the Central Defense team he had stationed at the southern entrance to the city. “Whatever is important enough that you feel the need to interrupt my day, spit it out.”

“Yes, sir. We had a large group of survivors enter the city, led by an awakened frontier commander from Central Defense, confirmed to be Garth Boltsbury, out of the Duilleag branch. He had another awakened with him claiming to be one Kyle Mayhew from Central Health in Newton, but he didn’t match the scans.”

Mayhew, that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while, Victor mused, considering the information. He accessed his command console, and sure enough, there was a Kyle Mayhew stationed in Newton, the grandson of the last living D Grade human on the planet, at least as far as they knew. “And other than Boltsbury, this is the only awakened in the group?”

“Yes, sir. None of the others traveling with the group had a mana signature consistent with an E Grade.” From the surveillance they were able to do on the Guard Array left in Duilleag, it appeared a group of raiders had taken control, which would have indicated that most, if not all, of the awakened survivors there would have been with the group traveling.

Because of that, Victor wasn’t too surprised that a small group from Duilleag had made it—he’d been tracking the movement of their Guard Array after all—but it did strike him as more than a little curious that they’d made the time they did with only two awakened individuals. Even further, for this Kyle Mayhew to have joined them from Newton, he would have had to have made the journey on foot. Newton was well into the zone they’d declared completely destroyed, and if their admittedly incomplete data held true, the ambient mana alone should have been fatal to most early stage awakened, to say nothing of the mutated creatures that had been reported in areas with high chaotic mana density. Something here was clearly off. “Did this Kyle Mayhew arrive with any travel companions from Newton who can corroborate his story, or did he come alone?”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line as they relayed his message, but the response was prompt enough that it didn’t earn any more of Victor’s ire. “He came with a C.H.A.D.D. that he says is from Newton, but it's pretty beaten up. It also says it’s having errors with connecting to the mana network, so it can’t be verified.”

Victor’s frown deepened at that revelation. Clark Mayhew had long been a vocal critic of the Central Authority’s methods, and if Victor’s intel was good, more than a couple of extremist groups had been founded in the wake of his ideologies. How convenient that his grandson arrived ‘alone’ after a journey that should have killed him, and with a clearly compromised drone in tow. No, Victor didn’t like this one bit. On the other side, he also didn’t want to tip his hand too soon. If Clark Mayhew or other radicals were using this opportunity to infiltrate his city, he had to maintain the appearance that he was unaware of the possibilities. Fortunately, he had the perfect piece on the board to navigate these delicate waters. “Bring the Communication Array to them. I want to be able to speak directly to Garth Boltsbury.”

Kyle and Garth stood in uneasy silence as they waited for Porter to return, and Kyle was uncomfortably reminded of the small hospital in Newton where he’d seen his patients. I wonder if this is how they felt—sitting and waiting in anticipation of whatever comes next, knowing whatever you hear isn’t likely to be good news. Kyle saw C.H.A.D.D. out of the corner of his eye, the drone floating absolutely still in the presence of the other equipment. Porter reemerged from some nearby stairs, a Communication Array in tow. He approached Garth, his body language formal. “Captain Boltsbury, Councilman DeRosa would like to have a word.” With that, he presented the array to Garth and stepped back—still more than close enough to hear, but with enough space to seem polite.

“Mr. Boltsbury, it’s my understanding that you’ve been traveling with the subject of interest for some time. I’ve reviewed your record, and it’s impressive. You’ve served admirably under a variety of Central Defense leadership. I’d be interested to know your assessment of the individual in question.” There was a pause as Garth processed the stream of information that poured out of the array, not entirely sure what to expect. Garth composed himself quickly, however, and shared a brief overview of the events that had brought them here.

After he finished his retelling, there was a pause, and the voice on the other end picked up again, the tone dispassionate, almost seeming bored. “So to ensure I’m not missing anything, a low-level doctor from Newton appears out of nowhere, hundreds of kilometers east, conveniently as your group is being besieged by local fauna. Then he somehow manages to provide effective combat support to a seasoned soldier multiple times, proving himself to be a valuable asset worth keeping along. He has with him a functional C.H.A.D.D., but one that conveniently can’t connect to the mana network for verification, and he’d like access to the city as a result of his actions. Does that sum things up?”

“Um, I don’t know if I’d put it all that way, sir.”

“Frankly, Boltsbury I don’t care how you’d put it. I’m here to look after the greatest good for the people under my protection, and there’s a lot here that’s unknown. Let’s cut to the chase. From your experience traveling with him, is Kyle Mayhew deviant?”

The silence lasted only a moment but seemed to stretch into eternity as the weariness finished settling in behind Garth’s eyes. “Yes, sir.”

Chapter 34

Kyle stood there, numb, as the gravity of those two words washed over him. Garth didn’t meet his eyes, and though he looked conflicted, Kyle understood that, in his view, he didn’t really have another option. He had been asked a direct question by the de facto leader of the Central Authority, and he had answered honestly. Kyle wasn’t sure what he had expected, but he knew that events were quickly progressing toward the worst outcomes. Porter broke that moment of silence, addressing DeRosa. “What are your orders, Councilman? How would you like us to proceed?”

“I think that should be obvious, Mr. Rathman, unless you have other thoughts?” Kyle knew exactly how deviant awakened were handled—it had been drilled into him time and again since his ability to cultivate mana was discovered. The collective good was the responsibility of those with power, and those who turned their back on the collective had no place in it.

Porter seemed to consider the matter settled, but before he could act, Garth jumped in. “Councilman DeRosa, if I may,” Garth said, his words coming out in a rush. “There is no debate as to whether or not Kyle Mayhew is deviant, but since joining up with our group, he has helped the unawakened and put the interests of others ahead of his own. If there is room for leniency, I’m of the belief that this man deserves it.” Garth’s formal tone struck Kyle as odd, but nevertheless he was thankful for his friend’s advocacy.

There was another pause, with all eyes fixed on the Communication Array. Kyle felt his breath catch as he waited for Councilman DeRosa to pass his judgment. “Mr. Boltsbury, the price of mercy is often far higher than is appreciated in the moment. I have admiration for the loyalty you’re showing to this man—and I can see why you feel that he’s deserving of it. But don’t misunderstand me—unless there is compelling evidence that his interests and the interests of the people align, then our course remains fixed.”

Garth was about to respond when Porter raised his right hand toward Kyle, crackling energy concentrating in his palm before it burst forward in an electrified bolt. Unfortunately for Porter, Kyle had been expecting violence, and the moment the other man raised his hand, Kyle activated Haste. He easily sidestepped the attack, his glowing blue eyes fixed on the attacker. Two more attacks came down from the men stationed on the rooftop—a slow-moving stream of fire meant to limit his movements and a barrage of bullet-sized shards of ice that flew much more quickly. Though the tactic might have been simple and effective, Kyle almost felt upset at the disrespect. The strategy was so basic—limit options with the fire, pin the enemy with concentrated fire from the ice, then launch powerful blasts from Porter as a finisher. And against most awakened, there was no doubt it would be highly effective. However, the entire reason they were attacking him is that they didn’t think Kyle was most awakened, they thought him a dangerous deviant. And in this moment, he was more than happy to show them exactly how badly they had misread the situation.

With the enhanced Perception granted by his Haste skill, he easily tracked the trajectory of the shards of ice and outpaced the stream of fire behind him before he could be pinned in. Another powerful bolt of electric energy came soaring at him, and just like the last, Kyle stepped to side, easily out of the way of the linear blast. In the blink of an eye he, was beside C.H.A.D.D., grabbing the little drone and carrying it under his right arm. [DR. MAYHEW, A THIRD AWAKENED MOVED TO THE EDGE OF THE ROOFTOP. MANA CONCENTRATION BEHIND THE EYES, LIKELY RANGER TYPE.]

C.H.A.D.D.’s warning came not a moment too soon as Kyle tucked his chin and leaned forward, a crack of thunder sounding a moment later. He felt the bullet impact his back, just slightly left of his spine. Ordinarily, a shot like that would have been more than enough to bring down even the most warrior-type awakened, but just like the encounter before Kyle’s enhanced attributes and reinforced skin were enough to stop the bullet before, it could strike his vitals. The pain still made him stagger, his heightened senses screaming at him in protest, even though Regeneration was already hard at work, healing the superficial injury and pushing the piece of lead out. “Thanks for the heads-up, buddy,” he whispered to the drone under his arm before turning back to face the group. All but Garth looked understandably cautious, they had just witnessed what the records indicated was a Healer effortlessly evade their offensive skills and take a bullet to the back without any signs of damage. Keeping an eye on the man with the rifle, he called out in a loud voice. “You asked for proof that our interests are aligned, consider this the first installment. If I wanted violence, this could have ended differently.” Their only response was another gunshot cracking the air, though this time Kyle was able to dart out of the way as he saw the man tense before firing. With a sigh, he darted back toward the cover of the trees as fast as Haste would allow him. It had been a nice dream to settle back into something more normal, though he had steeled himself for this before he’d even known other survivors had made it. He and C.H.A.D.D. would have to make their own way, alone.

“You idiots! You absolute idiots!” Porter shrieked, his previously calm demeanor entirely shattered at the display. “I selected you for this detail to be able to handle threats like this, and a nobody from a backwater like Newton made you look like a bunch of children! That was pathetic!” He had gone up to the rooftop, where he was berating the rest of the guard detail, Garth being forgotten below. The men on the roof shared a look, and they seemed to come to a silent agreement.

The man with the rifle spoke, interrupting the other man’s tirade. “Porter, we did the best we could. That man made a joke out of all of us, but he’s gone now. It’s over.”

Porter wheeled on him, flecks of spittle on the side of his mouth. “You’re the biggest joke of them all, Rodney. The only thing your skills are good for is targeting someone like him at range, and you couldn’t even manage that.”

At that, Rodney’s placating tone turned rough. “I did hit him, Porter. And he shrugged it off like he got hit with a water balloon. If I’m tracking correctly, I’m the only one who did. You’re as much to blame as any of us, so shut up so we can all get back to work.”

It was at that moment that Garth came up the stairs, one hand raised while the other was holding the Communication Array. “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt, but Councilman DeRosa asked for a report on what happened over the last couple minutes. He gave orders to bring the array to you, Mr. Rathman. I’ll leave you to it.” A sneer crossed Porter’s face as he snatched the array, though the look was replaced with one of horror when he realized that it was still active.

“Mr. Rathman, let Mr. Boltsbury into the city and then report to my offices immediately. Choose one of your subordinates to take charge of the gate; I suspect they’ll be covering for quite a while.”

Chapter 35

Kyle’s body was in the limbo between extreme pain and extreme numbness as he lay collapsed on the ground, C.H.A.D.D. floating overhead. He had pushed himself with Haste for the better part of an hour to ensure he made enough distance from the city to dissuade a pursuit. In doing so, he had pushed his ability beyond his body’s limit. [DR. MAYHEW, PRELIMINARY SCANS SHOW INFLAMMATION ACROSS THE NERVOUS SYSTEM, MOST ACUTELY IN THE ARMS, LEGS, AND EYES. RECOMMENDED COURSE OF TREATMENT IS REST UNDER OBSERVATION.]

“Thanks C.H.A.D.D.” Kyle managed to croak. If he still had his full human anatomy, he had no doubt that pushing this hard would have crippled or killed him, and again, he marveled at the benefits of his chimeric status. Regeneration was already fast at work, reducing the inflammation and alleviating the pain, and he estimated that he’d likely be up and moving within the course of a couple hours of rest. The pain was still too intense to be able to effectively reflect on their circumstances and begin planning, so he asked his companion the big question that was lingering in his head. “C.H.A.D.D., do you think we did the right thing?”

[OBJECTIVELY, WE DID NOT.]

“How do you mean?”

[WE CHOSE TO DISOBEY A DIRECT ORDER FROM A SITTING COUNCILMAN. WE CHOSE TO LEAVE BEHIND PATIENTS THAT WE HAD BEEN TREATING. WE CHOSE DEVIANCE.]

Kyle noticed C.H.A.D.D.’s use of the word we, and that gave him pause. He hadn’t really been thinking when he did it; however, it felt right to make sure C.H.A.D.D. got out safely as well. In that action, however, Kyle made the choice for the drone.

“I’m sorry. You had a right to choose to stay, and I didn’t respect that.”

C.H.A.D.D. tilted in the air in an almost quizzical fashion as it responded. [DR. MAYHEW, THE OBJECTIVELY CORRECT CHOICE IS NOT THE CHOICE I WOULD HAVE PREFERRED. THIS… EXISTENCE IS PREFERABLE TO DESTRUCTION.]

Now that was a profound thought, and Kyle found himself unsure of what to say. Fortunately, the drone didn’t share that problem.

[MOREOVER, YOUR AMBULATORY RECORD IS STILL HEAPED IN VIOLATIONS, SO IT WOULD BE IRRESPONSIBLE TO LEAVE YOU TO YOUR OWN DEVICES.]

Despite himself, despite the pain wracking his body, Kyle couldn’t help but laugh.

The perpetual shadows created by the ash and dust made it hard to determine with certainty the time of day, but given the sort-of-gray on the horizon he expected, he’d slept through the night. His body felt great, as if he hadn’t just pushed himself to the brink the day before. As had become habit, he did some morning stretches before evaluating the plan of action. C.H.A.D.D. was hovering nearby and floated closer when Kyle’s routine was completed. “All right, C.H.A.D.D., time to verbally process here. Do you mind taking the notes?”

[READY AND WAITING, DR. MAYHEW.]

“Thank you. We’re not running a diagnostic this time; we’re running full-blown triage, at least for now.” Kyle thought back to his training and the first thing that would come up in emergency treatment. “We need to find somewhere safe to hole up. Ideally, somewhere secure and hidden. We’ll need to get tools and resources.” In the moment of the escape, Kyle hadn’t realized that in his haste he’d left his rebar and supplies behind. There wasn’t much left, just some snacking rations, but every little bit would help them survive. The larger losses were the lack of a weapon and medical supplies. While Kyle had learned a lot from Garth in their time training, he knew he was still a novice by most measures.

That thought process established the first step they’d need to take—he’d need to go to a ruined city and see what he could do. Fortunately, he had a lead on that front—the group from Albaum mentioned they left due to a lack of resources inside the compound they were in. Still, that didn’t mean they’d exhausted the search. Even if there wasn’t much, it was a lead and it was nearby. Once they had established safety, the next thing was to assess the critical issues they encountered. Not only did they have no support, but they also had the outright antagonism of the Central Authority. To survive for any extended time as the world stabilized, he would need to find a way to coexist, lest they deploy more resources toward trimming this loose end. That was a problem that would take time to solve. From what Kyle had figured out, the damage moving west of Nierburg was significantly less than what they’d experienced on the journey from Newton. If that was the case, there was also a strong probability of refugees from the west heading toward Nierburg for safety. That opened up opportunities, but at this point, the most he could do was speculate. “C.H.A.D.D., give me a rundown of your own diagnostics. How are functions?”

[DR. MAYHEW, GENERAL FUNCTIONALITY HAS REMAINED WITHIN ACCEPTABLE PARAMETERS, BUT THERE HAVE BEEN MEASURABLE DECLINES ACROSS ALL SYSTEMS. THIS AMBIENT MANA IS INEFFICIENT FOR DAILY FUNCTION, AND PROLONGED EXPOSURE WILL EVENTUALLY LEAD TO LONG-TERM DAMAGE AND DETERIORATION.]

Well, there it was. Direct and laid out, if a little blunt for Kyle’s taste. “How long is it feasible for you to operate as you have under these conditions?”

[FUNCTIONALITY SHOULD REMAIN SERVICEABLE FOR AT LEAST ONE YEAR AT CURRENT RATES OF DETERIORATION.]

Kyle nodded thoughtfully. That gave them time to get established, even if it was limited. He knew there was still plenty of room between not serviceable and broken beyond repair, and he’d like to get a plan on that front before it became more serious.

As Kyle stood up, he could almost feel a physical weight with all that needed to be accomplished. Having a plan went a long way toward alleviating that pain, but he still felt the loss of his friends. Intellectually, he knew that they were safe and likely much better off than before. Selfishly, he missed their company anyway. He thought about Thomas’s easy jokes, Dalen and Amir’s questions and stories, and Garth’s instruction. C.H.A.D.D. floated over as a tear fell down his face. [DR. MAYHEW, SCANS DON’T INDICATE ANY PHYSICAL DAMAGE. WHAT TYPE OF DIAGNOSTIC CAN I RUN?]

Kyle looked at the earnest little drone and smiled. “I’ll be all right, I just miss them. It felt like so many of these issues were going to be solved once we had friends to handle it all with. It wasn’t a fair expectation to put on them to begin with. The only way out is through at this point, so let’s get moving.” He wiped the tear from his eyes and, with a firm resolution, began to make his way toward Albaum, C.H.A.D.D. in tow.

Chapter 36

To an extent, Kyle had been hoping the trip to Albaum would be rife with danger to keep his mind off the challenges ahead, but unfortunately, he had no such luck. The journey was quiet and painful, with Kyle once again wrestling with the feelings of loss. This grief was different than when he lost his grandfather—sharp and bitter rather than the deep, oppressive hurt he felt when Clark died. As he reflected on that, he realized something. He was angry as much as he was sad. These were people he’d trusted—people he’d been willing to protect at great personal harm—and they’d left him. Part of him wondered now, looking back, if Thomas, Dalen, and Amir had known. He was convinced that Garth knew at a minimum, and that caused his anger to flare. What did I ever do to you? I protected innocent people, and you throw me to the wolves because I wouldn’t do exactly what you wanted? These thoughts continued to grow and build until he remembered the look on Garth’s face after they’d encountered Carlyle. In that one crystallized moment, Kyle recognized the look of betrayal and anger that Garth had shown as a mirror of the expression he was beginning to wear himself.

The realization hit him like a bucket of ice-cold water, and he stopped walking to take a deep breath and recenter himself. He’d seen firsthand in his friend what festering anger could do if he left it unchecked, and the memory made him shiver all over again. He knew the magnitude of the emotion was different, but the danger was still there. Kyle took a much-needed breath and tried to bring the turmoil he felt back into check. He was still angry, and he knew himself well enough to know that wasn’t going to change any time soon. However, being angry and letting the anger color his perception were two different things. With significant effort, Kyle brought the boiling pot back down to a simmer as he walked. Fortunately, he had assistance to help in that process in the form of C.H.A.D.D., who was happily yammering away about the various diagnoses he’d been tracking from their former travel companions. “C.H.A.D.D., you really have no concept of privacy, do you?”

[WHY WOULD I, DR. MAYHEW? EARLY IDENTIFICATION, DIAGNOSIS, AND TREATMENT UNIVERSALLY RESULTS IN BETTER OUTCOMES FOR PATIENTS, IT WOULD BE IRRESPONSIBLE NOT TO KNOW THE STATUS OF PATIENTS TRAVELING WITHIN A CENTRAL HEALTH-SANCTIONED AMBULANCE.]

“C.H.A.D.D., you can drop the act. We both know that you know that we’re not in an ambulance. And one of these days, your cavalier scanning will get you into trouble. Don’t expect me to save you if Stephanie comes after you for getting too familiar.”

[THAT WOULDN’T BE AN ISSUE, DR. MAYHEW.]

“Oh, how so?”

[STEPHANIE IS UNAWAKENED AND LACKS ABILITIES ABLE TO REACH ME IF I INCREASE ALTITUDE. AND AS THE ATTENDING PHYSICIAN, YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR MY ACTIONS. IT IS HIGHLY PROBABLE ANY BACKLASH WOULD BE DIRECTED AT YOU.]

The drone floated along merrily as Kyle considered the implications. Well crap. C.H.A.D.D. wasn’t wrong; nobody would believe the drone was taking this information without Kyle’s approval. They’d believe it even less if C.H.A.D.D. lied about it. He filed a mental note that the drone had officially crossed the line from “sassy” to “morally bankrupt mastermind,” but smiled despite himself. They’d been through quite a bit on their journey so far, and it was honestly an encouragement to have the little drone with him for whatever was ahead. “I don’t suppose you have any records or maps of Albaum handy?”

[NO, DR. MAYHEW. I’M A DIAGNOSTIC DRONE, NOT A CARTOGRAPHY UNIT.]

“Yeah, I get it. Can’t blame me for asking, though. It would be handy.”

[RECENT POPULATION ESTIMATES PUT ALBAUM AT ROUGHLY FORTY THOUSAND, IT SHOULD BE SURVEYABLE OVER THE COURSE OF TWO TO THREE DAYS GOING BY YOUR RECENT PACE.]

“Wait a second—you actually kept population records? I feel like I’m going to regret asking this, but why?”

[EPIDEMIOLOGY AND PANDEMIC PREPAREDNESS BOTH REQUIRE POPULATION CHARTING AND TRAVEL ITINERARIES TO BE UPLOADED TO CENTRAL HEALTH ON A REGULAR BASIS.]

Kyle stopped walking as his face took on a thoughtful expression, his hand absentmindedly rubbing his chin. “If I’m hearing you correctly, you have access to the most recent data before things started falling apart?”

[THAT’S CORRECT, DR. MAYHEW.]

That was of interest to Kyle. He’d never worked with either the epidemiology or pandemic preparedness units, but he couldn’t help but feel that this information could be extremely valuable. The first thought was about his family. If any of them had been traveling, they might have gotten away from the worst of the blast and may have survived after all. Twin emotions lit up in his heart, a spark of hope and a feeling of dread. Opening that box would require him to confront reality, whatever it was, and Kyle wasn’t sure if he was ready to handle that yet. On the other hand, reviewing the travel logs could give him some answers about other visitors who had been in Nierburg before the calamity struck, as well as other settlements that were likely to have survivors. Councilman DeRosa was certainly high up on the food chain, but if Kyle managed to find other influential people and make himself useful, there was a chance that this thing could still turn around.

His contemplation was broken by a notification from C.H.A.D.D. [DR. MAYHEW, DETECTING FOUR LIVING SIGNATURES APPROACHING OUR LOCATION. SIZE AND MANA SIGNATURES CONSISTENT WITH MUTATED BEETLES.]

With only four of them, Kyle didn’t feel any particular danger and was preparing to activate Haste to disengage and run away. After activating his skill, a realization dawned on him. He’d been cautious to keep his abilities under wraps when traveling with Garth, and he’d gained a handful of levels since. Now, he was free to explore the upper boundaries of what he could do, and if he was honest, he was a little excited to find out. After all, what kind of scientist doesn’t want to push into the unknown once in a while?

As jails went, the accommodations in Nierburg were better than most. Spacious rooms with clean bedding and still-functional utilities made the captives feel more comfortable than they felt living out on the road for the past months. Like the others, Martin had kept his head down and followed instructions, biding his time until a Liberation contact inside Nierburg could locate them and tell them what the next steps were.

He knew some of the others were bothered by what the Mayhew boy had said, but not Martin. He'd served in a variety of support capacities under Gregory Valentine for over a decade before the man’s disappearance, and he knew his loyalty would be rewarded. He had prepared himself to be roughed up by the guards, but they quietly took him to his cell and let him get settled in after a thorough search. Barely two hours had passed, and a boring-looking man in a charcoal suit walked up to the entrance of his cell. Martin looked at the man and saw clear signs of aging, with liver spots across his head and large dark circles under his eyes. His wispy gray hair barely grew above the top of his ears, but despite the seeming frailty, there was cunning in the gray eyes.

“I’m Mr. Flotsam, here on behalf of Central Administration to document your arrival. Quite a mess out there, from what I’ve been told.”

Martin just looked at the man, remaining silent.

“Oh, you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to—goodness knows I’m not here to torture anybody. You boys made quite a stir, though—an armed group with an awakened leader attacking travelers from Albaum. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that sounds a bit too coordinated for just petty banditry.”

He met Martin’s eyes then, and Martin could tell the man was waiting for something. Is our contact here already? Martin decided to test the waters. “You play cards, old man?” Without a word, the man pulled a pack of playing cards out of the breast pocket of his suit, and showed him the bottom, the Ace of Hearts being clearly displayed. That was the sign for somebody in the know, and Martin got to business. “We were part of Carlyle’s crew. Boltsbury and Mayhew took us captive and brought us here. We tracked a group out of Albaum but didn’t get a chance to do a full sweep of the city because of what happened. I won’t talk, but I know some of these guys don’t have the same background with Valentine that I do.”

The old man’s face didn’t react, but he was jotting down notes on a small pad of paper as Martin continued to break down all the events since their departure. “And you’re certain it was a Kyle Mayhew that was involved with taking you in?”

“That’s what he said, at least, and everybody else seemed to think so.” Mr. Flotsam frowned, looking at another note. “Other than the speed ability and the resistance ability, did he show anything else?”

Martin scratched his head as he thought. “Nothing else exciting, maybe some healing? It wasn’t too fancy, but it kept our targets healthier than they should have been.”

A contemplative look crossed Mr. Flotsam’s face, and a moment later, he snapped his notepad shut and put them back into his suit. “This has been helpful, Martin. Mr. Valentine will be pleased.”

Martin grinned at that, and as the other man stood to leave, he called after him. “What are our orders for next steps?”

Mr. Flotsam stopped, looking at him with an almost sad gaze. “Unfortunately, you won’t be receiving any further orders. None of you will. For the glory of the Liberation.” With that, Mr. Flotsam turned and left.

Martin sat in disbelief for a moment, until he heard the sound of opening cell gates, followed by short, piercing screams. He waited and waited until he saw another man approach his cell door. Dressed in gray combat fatigues with a blue bandanna, he pulled out a key and unlocked the cell. He then tossed Martin a knife, which the man looked at in disbelief. “Here’s the score. You and your buddies attempted a prison break. You killed the guards who escorted you in, but I was able to catch you and put a stop to it before it got bad. Any questions?” Martin looked from the knife to the stranger with wide eyes. “What… what… what?”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to get it. Just wanted to give you the knife to make it sporting.” With that, the other man vanished, reappearing in front of Martin in a flash and driving his own knife deep into Martin’s chest. He cried out before falling backward, dead before he hit the ground.

Terry whistled as he wiped off the blade of his dagger after removing it from Martin’s chest. It had been years since he’d received direct orders, and here he was getting a string of jobs from Flotsam in quick succession. He smiled as the dagger went back into its sheath. Things were about to get a whole lot more exciting around Nierburg.

Chapter 37

His battle with the beetles—if it could even be called such—was over almost as soon as it had begun. Kyle knew he had a lot more power available when Haste was active, but the results were even more surprising to him. Controlling the mana as he used the skill was challenging, and what Kyle wanted to explore was getting used to the skill at its basic level, then pushing for shorter and more intense bursts in critical moments. The proof of concept was almost immediately established as he pushed more mana into the skill, but the lack of fine control meant his speed increased far more than anticipated. Fortunately, Haste enhanced both his Dexterity and Perception, giving him the ability to think more clearly as the world around him slowed to a crawl. That meant that the more he pushed his skill, the more he was able to fine-tune and course correct. Even so, the first beetle was destroyed beyond recognition with his high-acceleration punch, leaving the bones in his right forearm cracked after the impact. The amplified pain threatened to make him lose control of the skill altogether, but he managed to hold on and reduce the skill back to what Kyle considered baseline activation.

The beetles were unable to keep up with Kyle’s speed under normal circumstances, much less when he was under the effects of Haste. Their limited intelligence prevented them from realizing this, however, and Kyle was given three more opportunities to test the limits of his mana control. This resulted in three more destroyed beetles and substantial self-inflicted damage. Overall, Kyle was satisfied with the initial results. Several hours of allowing Regeneration to do its work alongside focused use of the Heal skill under C.H.A.D.D.’s direction, and Kyle’s condition had improved from “major damage” to “lightly bruised.” He had to marvel at the new capabilities of his body, as he had no illusions that a skill like this with his normal body would have been nothing more than a death sentence if used beyond its baseline. Instead, however, he found himself with an ability that he could use as a real trump card if things got dicey. What he didn’t find himself with, unfortunately, was a large stockpile of beetle meat. The destroyed creatures left very little that he could salvage, and he knew it wouldn’t last him long.

Kyle absently rubbed his sore knuckles as they broke the line of trees and saw the clearing surrounding Albaum. In many ways, it reminded Kyle of his time spent in Newton—it was a small agrarian town without a lot of the major amenities like Cathwick, but it had a quaintness and character that were hard to find in the larger cities. It was laid out in the typical utilitarian grid style that was common within the Central Authority, but the lack of terraforming resources meant that some accommodations had to be made for nature, with some of the streets curling around rivers and hills instead of having the landscape flattened to make city development easier. Kyle honestly preferred it this way. He and C.H.A.D.D. were walking down the abandoned streets systematically, with the drone scanning for signs of life and Kyle looking for a place to establish a base camp. While they weren’t able to find any other survivors, Kyle was thrilled to find enough supplies to start a small fire. Unfortunately, the time spent battling the beetles meant they couldn’t finish sweeping the city, so Kyle found a small house with a hole in the roof to settle in. He started a fire, placed some of his recently acquired meat, and leaned back to watch the stars.

Looking up at the sky, his mind drifted back to his grandfather, and he couldn’t help but wonder how Clark’s days during the first awakening would have compared. The histories he learned as a child taught that the high-minded Originators brought order out of the chaos but barely touched on the violence and uncertainty that took place in the interim. The lingering damage from Clark’s old injuries made Kyle appreciate all the more the cost of the peace they had enjoyed, and while he knew it was presumptuous to compare himself to his grandfather, the sense of connection was stronger than ever. When they would go camping in Kyle’s youth, Clark would always get a faraway look in his eye as he looked up at the stars. Kyle could never tell if he was looking back on fond memories or regrets, but in this moment, he felt like he understood it.

Hours passed as he watched the slow, steady rotation of the stars. In stressful moments, he had his medical training to rely on, and he was grateful for that. The response to adversity had been drilled into him, though medical triage didn’t do much to account for hopes and dreams. Society at large had an endless road of challenges in front of it to get back to normal—and the rational part of Kyle wanted to work on tackling those issues. The core tenets of the Central Authority were always to put the needs of the collective ahead of the wants of the individual. Kyle tried to reconcile those principles with the complete rejection by Councilman DeRosa, and he had to confront the reality that the will of the collective was for him to be gone.

As frightening as that prospect was, it also forced Kyle to answer some hard questions. What drove him to accomplish the things he’d done since losing his grandfather? He hadn’t pushed as hard as he had because he wanted to be a cog in a machine. He hadn’t been thinking about the collective good when he was training to avoid being eaten by mutant beetles. He’d done those things because he wanted to, and if he was real with himself, because he wanted to live up to Clark’s legacy however he could. There was still pain and guilt there, and as the stars moved past, he realized what a part of him had been feeling over these last months. He thought Clark had made a mistake by sacrificing himself to save Kyle. At the end of the world, a D Grade powerhouse of a warrior would have been much more valuable to society than a weak E Grade doctor. And despite that, Clark chose to save him anyway. As he thought about that, he felt a piece lock into place. His survival wasn’t a utilitarian bet on the future, nor was it a decision his grandfather made with the collective in mind. He had made a singular, purely selfish decision, which was at the same time entirely selfless. He hadn’t been saved because of his abilities, competencies, or anything else. He had been saved because his grandfather loved him. That was it—no expectations, no grand plan that he was expected to accomplish—just knowing his grandson would survive at least a little longer was enough. A smile broke out on his face as a warm feeling spread through him, and he drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 38

Kyle woke to gentle sunlight coming through the hole in the ceiling, and while he felt incredibly rested, he also felt incredibly hungry. Other than the newly cooked beetle meat, the only food they found that was still likely safe to eat was a package of roasted nuts. He reached for the canister, set aside next to a couple of knives and a length of rope they’d also scavenged. Popping a handful into his mouth, only then did he notice that C.H.A.D.D. wasn’t in the room. A moment of panic hit him as his thoughts immediately went to the worst, but he forced himself to calm down as he gathered the goods and left the house. He didn’t see anything at first, and the panic began to build in his chest as he looked around more and more frantically. It wasn’t until he noticed the glint following him that he realized that it was sunlight reflecting off of a metallic hull—specifically C.H.A.D.D.’s—that he felt a wash of relief, which was quickly followed by annoyance.

He watched the drone float back down to a more reasonable elevation before calling out to it. “A little far afield there, don’t you think? If a big dragonfly came by and scooped you up, there’s not much I could do for you.”

[DR. MAYHEW, BE ASSURED I WOULD HAVE LED IT RIGHT TO YOU. YOU WOULDN’T HAVE MISSED IT.] Ordinarily C.H.A.D.D.’s sass would have made Kyle chuckle, but in this case he couldn’t bring himself to find the quip funny. “C.H.A.D.D., I’m serious. You running off like that had me worried, and if something had happened I wouldn’t have known what to do or even where to start. We’re a team, and we’re all we have right now.”

The drone floated, seeming almost contemplative to Kyle, before responding, [TECHNICALLY, DR. MAYHEW, I DIDN’T RUN OFF. I HOVERED.]

That ridiculous comment was what it took to break Kyle, who couldn’t hide his chortle of laughter.

[AND IF I MAY, DR. MAYHEW, I COMPLETED A SURVEY OF THE AREA THROUGH THE EVENING. I BELIEVE I’VE LOCATED THE HIDEAWAY MENTIONED BY MR. GLEASON AND MR. PAULSON—AND HAVE ALSO DETECTED SEVERAL GROUPS OF BEETLES IN THE AREA.]

That took Kyle by surprise—he hadn’t expected that the drone would have taken that level of initiative, much less come back with information that was so immediately helpful. He paused a moment to consider the next steps—while hunting some beetles would provide him with food, shelter still had to be the first priority. “Thanks, C.H.A.D.D. Let’s get to our friends’ old home, and we’ll take it from there.”

As they made their way through the gently winding streets, Kyle’s appreciation for C.H.A.D.D.’s work grew. With the pace they were making before, he seriously doubted that they would have made it to this part of Albaum before the day was done. It was on the far side of the city from where they’d entered, and even without stopping to salvage, it took the better part of the morning for them to cross over. It was a little sad for Kyle to see what had once clearly been a beautiful town reduced to such ruin. They crossed into what Kyle assumed was a more affluent part of town, given the relative size of the homes. At the end of one such neighborhood, they came upon what had no doubt been a quaint downtown, at the center of which were the ruins of a restaurant co-op. The building looked like a large warehouse, the brickwork now showing cracks and damage. Gleason had told him that this was a large commercial kitchen that many chefs would travel to use for large orders before transporting them to their final destinations. The group they’d met was doing this exact kind of work for DeRosa—mass baking pastries and confections for a social event before the cataclysm. Had he not booked the space for his own use, there likely would have been quite a few more people making use of the commercial kitchen, and quite possibly more survivors.

They’d been warned that the group covered their tracks before they left, but the pile of rubble barely obstructing the door was more than obvious. Still, Kyle wasn’t about to complain about an easier entrance. As he moved to clear a path, he spoke to C.H.A.D.D. “Would you please run a scan of the area again? I don’t want to have any surprises when we get inside.”

C.H.A.D.D. hummed for a moment before giving the all-clear, and Kyle finished removing the debris. Very little light made it inside the kitchen from the doorway, and Kyle couldn’t make out the corners of the room very well. Fortunately for him, he found a solution to this problem. He activated Haste, causing a gentle blue glow to emanate from his eyes and skin. That bathed the room in soft light, allowing him to see more clearly. There were over a dozen cooking stations set up, six on each side, with the pantries and refrigeration units along the back wall. As he’d been told, most of the usable supplies had been taken away, with only the worst of the pots, pans, and utensils remaining to be used. The appliances were another story, though, with all of them seeming to be in reasonably good condition. That is, if he could figure out how to use them.

Kyle wasn’t a talented chef before the world ended, and a state-of-the-art commercial kitchen was well above his pay grade. Most of the equipment he was used to ran on ambient mana and likely wouldn’t be functional by this point, even if it had survived the blasts. These were different, but for the life of him, Kyle couldn’t figure out how to make any of this stuff work. He turned knobs, pressed buttons, and twisted dials to no avail. The whole time he was doing this, C.H.A.D.D. floated in silence near the entrance. “You know, you’re more than welcome to help figure this out,” Kyle complained, shooting a look over at his robotic companion. C.H.A.D.D. floated in silence a moment longer, when suddenly a loud thrum resonated through the kitchens. Mana-powered overhead lights sprang to life, and each of the inert appliances had small displays pop into view. As quickly as it had happened, the lights turned off and the displays disappeared. “What did you do, C.H.A.D.D.?”

[NOTHING OF NOTE, DR. MAYHEW. I ATTEMPTED TO CONNECT TO THE MANA NETWORK, WHICH IN TURN CREATED A LINK FOR THE ADMINISTRATOR PANEL FOR THIS FACILITY TO ATTEMPT A CONNECTION AS WELL. THESE DEVICES MANAGED A CONNECTION BUT WENT DORMANT PER INSTRUCTIONS AT THE ADMINISTRATOR PANEL.] If there was something Kyle knew even less than cooking, it was mana connectivity theory. But what he did understand was that it was possible to get this thing powered back on. “Is that administrator panel a physical device in the area?”

[I BELIEVE SO, DR. MAYHEW.]

It took the better part of an hour, but after ransacking the entirety of the commercial kitchen, Kyle found the panel near the back of the building near some damaged dock doors. Kyle had seen this type of panel before—it was typically used in common areas like the lobby of his apartment to allow access to the higher floors via a quick scan of a person’s Central Authority identity. Of course, in emergency situations, there were overrides to allow awakened police and medical services to gain access quickly and efficiently. That was what Kyle was banking on here, as he raised his right hand and pressed it against the base of the panel. At first, it felt like nothing was happening, but as he focused, he felt what he could only describe as a weak suction coming through the solid metal of the panel. It wasn’t physical, but it was almost as though it were reacting to the mana coursing through his hand. With a thought, he pushed some of his mana through his palm and into the panel, similar to how he would start the process of using his Heal skill, but without actually following through to engage the ability. The panel hummed to life, and a series of holographic displays projected out from its surface. Looking through the various options, Kyle finally located what he wanted. He selected two options—the first was to power on the facility, and the second was to shift from drawing energy from the mana network to drawing on ambient mana. He knew that the constant deterioration from the chaotic energy would put his stay here on a timer, but that was preferable to the Central Authority in Nierburg shutting off his mana network access and sending a party to flush him out.

With lights on and equipment operational, Kyle emptied the refrigeration units that Paulson’s group had been using as bedrooms as they began to cool. After combining the piles of ragged burlap, he’d made a makeshift sleeping mat in the back corner. It wasn’t a bed, it wasn’t comfortable, but right now he was just thankful to have a place to rest his head. What the grumbling of his stomach did tell him was that it was time to get some meat to stock the newly operational refrigerator. “C.H.A.D.D., let’s go find some beetles.”

Chapter 39

From what C.H.A.D.D. determined, there were fifteen groups of roving beetles across the city, with the smallest groups only having three or four and the largest group consisting of nearly a dozen of the creatures. While he would almost certainly come into conflict with the larger group at some point, his primary focus was to get some meat and see if he could get it to cook properly with the equipment he had in hand. C.H.A.D.D. directed him to an old city water treatment plant, and just as expected, there were four of the mindless beetles rummaging about. Kyle was in no danger here—even the largest group would be a non-issue due to his speed—but he knew he would have to be much more careful to kill the bugs without destroying the majority of the meat like the last time. He’d considered not using Haste, but it was too valuable an ability not to practice with it. He closed his eyes for a moment, took a breath, and activated his skill. The now familiar surge of mana infused his body, and as he opened his eyes and took a step, the world around him slowed. The first beetle was dead before the group even realized they were under attack. Kyle swore to himself in both frustration and pain as he overdid it on the additional push of mana, splattering the beetle into a wall and causing his left arm to throb.

Gritting his teeth and refocusing, he turned back toward the beetles as Haste cooled down to its base bonuses. His whole body felt like it was being prodded by small needles in the aftermath of pushing the skill too far, and he gritted his teeth as the pain subsided. The second beetle fell intact. Kyle hadn’t put much extra into the skill this time around, requiring several strikes to bring his opponent down. The third beetle fell much like the second. He used the offensive variant of his Haste skill once more to see if he could get it right, and once again wound up with an injured arm and a smashed beetle. Deactivating his skill and spending time using Heal on his damaged right arm, he considered his problems. It came down to mana control at the end of the day. The slight increases felt like they didn’t do anything, but once he’d added enough mana to feel a change, it quickly spiraled into territory where he was getting backlash. Kyle knew it was going to take a lot of work to make it smooth, but he was hoping he would have had a few more insights by now. He continued to reflect on it while he healed his arm, then collected the bodies of the beetles and made his way back to his new home.

Garth was sitting in a chair in his newly issued apartment, reading over his assignment details. He felt more human now that his hair was freshly cut and face clean-shaven, revealing the familiar small scars he’d accumulated through his work with Central Defense. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he and Porter went to the councilman’s office two days ago, but being given a commendation and a squad of direct reports certainly hadn’t been on his radar. They had given DeRosa a summary of the events that had taken place and had been summarily dismissed, with Garth receiving orders just an hour later to return. Something had gone wrong with the prisoners they’d brought in, with the group managing to free and arm themselves before an awakened soldier could make it to their location and put them down. To hear Terrance talk about it, it sounded like it was still a close thing—he had to fight to kill to make it out of the holding block alive.

Garth’s immediate thought as he stepped through the office door was that he and the other survivors would be held under suspicion. Instead, Garth’s honesty in dealing with Kyle was commended, as he was the primary suspect in arming the captives. The councilman’s take on events was that Kyle was a deviant infiltrator from a raider group. He ingratiated himself to the Duilleag survivors, trying to get intel and ultimately access to Nierburg, with the captives being a ruse to gauge defenses before escaping. Garth didn’t believe that story for a moment, but his commendation went a long way toward seeing his people taken care of, so he kept his mouth shut.

What had baffled him even more was the dossier that DeRosa had put together for him. The councilman made it clear that he wanted Garth to lead a squad in Central Defense. Garth suspected it was due to his level, which was pushing 30 before everything had happened and was now at a respectable 34. Given the average level of talent DeRosa had, which was closer to 15, he could understand the decision to make things comfortable for an asset like himself. He was reviewing the information for the people assigned to his unit, the only name he recognized being the same Terrance, who had nearly been killed by the captives. It was a group of five overall, with the aforementioned Terrance and himself being Warrior classes, then two elemental Mage classes and a newly-minted Healer. It wasn’t a bad team composition as they went, but the massive level disparities were bound to cause problems.

Honestly, he would have loved to have Kyle as part of a new squad—the young man had all the foundations of an excellent combat medic. Unfortunately, that wasn’t meant to be. Before the unexpected time with Kyle, it had been years since he’d done any meaningful combat training with inexperienced recruits, and the thought did manage to bring a smile to his face.

He got up from his chair, closing the folder he had been reading. His team would report for their first guard rotation in about a week’s time, and while he knew they wouldn’t be polished by any means, they had time to get some foundational training done before they reported officially. He moved to his desk, bringing out a pen and paper to start mapping out a plan. Damn, I missed having paper. It was the little luxuries like this that Garth had missed while he’d been on the road, which ultimately reinforced his decision to be direct about Kyle’s experiences. He thought about all the people who hadn’t lived the rough life he had and how much more they’d likely appreciate it. While his apartment was certainly the largest, every person who came with him from Duilleag had been given housing and a job to do. The children were given expedited medical treatment. None of this would have been a reality if he had tried to cover for Kyle and been found out. Despite all that, his thoughts once again went out to the young man. Wherever he was, he hoped that Kyle was okay.

Chapter 40

Kyle was definitely not doing okay. Medical school, surviving an apocalypse, refining his skills—nothing quite stacked up to the challenge of making these beetles taste good. He had tried every tool available to him to try to make the beetle meat more appetizing. Nothing he did made a meaningful impact on the flavor. He’d tried sautéing them, grilling them, and baking them to little effect. He’d considered boiling, but clean water was an important resource he didn’t want to waste on this fruitless endeavor. Ultimately, the best way he’d found to cook them was to cut the meat into strips and smoke them using wood he’d liberated from the nearby forest. The flavor was still repulsive, to say the least, but it was a significant improvement from raw or charred on a fire.

Over the past week, he’d gone out and hunted the majority of the smaller groups of beetles, fully stocking one of his functional refrigerators with meat. Between his hunts and culinary misadventures, he’d also spent a significant amount of time reviewing the footage C.H.A.D.D. had stored of his sparring sessions with Garth, watching the older man’s movements with interest and comparing them to Kyle’s own. It was clear that despite the training, Kyle was still incredibly inefficient in the way he moved, and he hoped to gain some insights to continue to improve by watching a more seasoned fighter. The challenge, Kyle discovered, was that Garth’s style assumed a few things that Kyle couldn’t. His movements were powerful and direct, with the promise that each movement had the ability to finish a fight. The problem was that Kyle didn’t have that going for him. Sure, he could use an infused Haste to try and land a decisive strike, but that wasn’t something he could do against larger groups of enemies or even against one sufficiently powerful and durable opponent. He thought back to the giant mutated ant he'd encountered and had no illusions that without striking the proper weak points, he still wouldn’t have been able to cause meaningful harm to the creature. He thought about the possibility of an entire hive of the creatures and shuddered. For all the power he’d been accumulating, he was still a far cry from being safe in this new world in which he found himself.

That was illustrated to him as well by C.H.A.D.D., who detected that the smaller groups of beetles had largely joined with the largest group, turning into a full-blown swarm. Kyle didn’t know much about insect social structures but had a strong feeling it was due to his active hunting. Even more frustrating, it was a really effective tactic. The swarm had swelled to nearly thirty of the creatures, and he knew that in a direct confrontation, anything other than escape was going to be risky.

Thus, his dismay was palpable when C.H.A.D.D. returned from his morning scan. [DR. MAYHEW, A GROUP OF THREE HUMANS ENTERED THE CITY THIS MORNING. ALL UNAWAKENED, MOVING SLOWLY FROM THE SOUTHEASTERN END OF THE CITY.]

Southeast, it wouldn’t make sense for them to have come from Nierburg. Kyle hated that his first thought went to a trap, a reflection of how the past months had changed him. Just because he hated it didn’t mean it was the wrong way to think. No way they’d send three unawakened after me. Pretty lousy scouting party too—if they don’t make it back, there’s any number of things that could have happened to them. “C.H.A.D.D., did you pick up any other life signatures?”

[ONLY THE SWARM OF BEETLES HEADING THEIR DIRECTION, DR. MAYHEW.]

Well, crap. Kyle’s stomach sank as he considered his next steps. One of his biggest advantages was his tucked away hiding place. The beetles had never come too close, and it was tucked away enough that he had confidence C.H.A.D.D. would be able to detect a larger group of awakened moving in and searching for him. If they knew right where he was… well, C.H.A.D.D. was a diagnostic drone, not a radar station. At range, he could pick up mana signatures for health and little else—and a group of awakened making straight for him wouldn’t give him much time to react, if any. The smart thing to do was to stay hunkered down and leave them to their fate. He’d had to make it on his own, and if they’d survived this long, they should know the risks too. It was the right decision. It was the smart decision. Dammit. “How far?”

“Can we stop? My feet are tired, Grandpa.” Frank looked at the little girl and smiled; her big brown eyes always had a way of melting his heart.

He was about to respond and acquiesce, but before he could, his other granddaughter, Arianna, said, “Amalia, we’ve only been on the road for a few hours. We should at least try to make it into town.” His heart ached as he heard the hardness in Arianna’s voice, forced to grow up far too fast. He still hurt for the loss of his son and daughter-in-law, but that hurt was overcome with a desire to see their babies, his granddaughters, taken care of, even though the hurt they were still feeling wasn’t something his old bones could fix.

He saw the tears welling up in Amalia’s eyes and decided to jump in. “Let’s go a little further and find a nice place to take a break. We’ll rest a little, then go for another hour or so to get across town. How does that sound?” Amalia’s tears disappeared almost as soon as they appeared, the girl nodding her head vigorously. She was only ten, and for her, this compromise felt like she had completely gotten her way. Arianna rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything as she followed her now-skipping younger sister. Frank couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, his hand running through his slate gray beard. Even at the end of the world, teenagers will be teenagers he thought wistfully, thinking back to when he and Susanna were raising their boys. His hand went absently down to the sticks at his waist, remembering all the days of training and bonding over their heritage, passed down from the old world. Amalia’s voice snapped him from his reverie, “Come on, Grandpa! You’re being slow!” His smile was a mix of sadness and hope as he took off after the little ones.

They were resting in an old park, Frank having taken off his pack and shared some of the rations they’d brought with them. Amalia was eating hungrily, while Arianna just sat, looking at her hands. His heart broke a little bit at the sight, but he just didn’t know what to say. A faint clicking sound made him jump to his feet, his hands drawing out the carbon fiber sticks he wore on his side. They were less than a meter long and light, but they’d served him well over the last several months. The clicking grew louder, and he saw a beetle round the corner and begin to move right toward him. Amalia shrieked and ran toward Arianna, who hugged her sister close. This wasn’t the first time they’d seen one of these mutated bugs, and Frank took up his fighting stance between the beetle and his girls. He lashed out at the beetle as it drew near, the Escrima sticks striking the carapace in rapid succession. The beetle focused its attention on him, trying to bite and claw at him, albeit with little success. Frank got into his rhythm, a constant cascade of blows raining down from both hands. When one hand moved to defend, the other was striking the joint of a leg. That stick then moved to turn aside pinching mandibles while the other came down in a vertical strike. That isn’t to say that Frank came out unscathed, bleeding from several glancing strikes along the way. But eventually, the outcome became clear as the beetle could no longer stand, Frank finishing it off with a series of heavy strikes to its head. Gasping for air, Frank put his weapons back into their holsters and looked up toward the sky. I’m getting way too old for this, he thought, wincing again as his girls came crashing into him with a big hug. “Ouch, ouch! Be gentle; I’m not as young and tough as you two.”

That got a giggle out of Amalia, but Arianna looked concerned. “That was one of the biggest we’ve seen, are you sure we should be trying to go this way? I don’t care if Nierburg is supposed to be safer; that doesn’t help us deal with the dangers along the way.”

Peeling Amalia off him, he met Arianna’s eyes. “I recognize the risk. And I want the two of you in a place where you’ll have opportunities to grow, learn, and build a life. We’ll make it, and we’ll make it together.”

She looked like she had something else to say, but she froze as she looked to the distance. Then Frank heard it, still faint but growing louder. A chorus of clicking, heading their direction. Before he could open his mouth, a man radiating a glowing blue light burst into the park. “Dammit, there are kids! Old man! Get your girls and follow this drone—it’ll take you somewhere safe.”

Bewildered, Frank could just nod as the man released a small white drone that floated over. [THIS WAY, PLEASE. AS NEW EMPLOYEES OF CENTRAL HEALTH, LET ME⁠—]

The drone was cut off by the man shouting at it. “Not the time for the act, C.H.A.D.D. Get them to safety!”

[I APOLOGIZE FOR DR. MAYHEW, HE’S QUITE RUDE. PLEASE FOLLOW ME.] The drone took off at a brisk pace, Frank and the girls in tow. What the hell is going on here? he thought, but as they turned a corner, his eyes widened, just making out the shapes of more than four beetles, each as large as the one he’d taken down. Knowing there was nothing but death behind him, he spurred the girls on to follow the drone into the unknown.

Chapter 41

Kyle was able to draw off the advanced scouts that were closing on the old man and the girls but was still a little distracted by the fact that the man had managed to take down one of the beetles. When C.H.A.D.D. had told him he saw a beetle signature engage, he had expected the worst and activated Haste to get there as quickly as possible. To see the man relatively unharmed was impressive. Shaking his head as he refocused, he turned his attention to the beetles following him. Four were closer, with the bulk of the group traveling more slowly behind. He could probably take out these four without being overrun, but it would be close. The other risk was that he wasn’t sure what the swarm would do without direction. If they dispersed, there was a real chance of the unawakened being overtaken. I didn’t come out here to let them die. That simple, powerful thought was enough to define his next course of action. He deactivated his Haste skill to conserve energy and strain on his body, knowing he could still easily outpace the beetle swarm. He led them toward the outskirts of town for a good five minutes before turning to make his stand.

Before the beetles even registered, he’d stopped retreating; he was on them. With practiced steps, darted into their number, grabbing one of the beetles by its legs and slamming it into one of its companions. That was followed up by a vicious stomp, then a series of quick steps back to avoid being overrun by the other two joining in to help. None were killed by his attack, but the one he’d stomped was injured heavily enough that it would struggle to keep pace. This had allowed the swarm to get much closer, and Kyle turned to gain more distance again, adopting hit-and-run tactics as he kited the beetles away. After three more engagements, he’d managed to injure each of the advanced scout beetles to the point where they couldn’t keep up, and Kyle hoped that would be the end of it, with the swarm giving up chase. At first glance, it appeared that was exactly what had happened. The swarm chasing him was growing smaller and smaller, with only seven or eight beetles left in the main body of the group. It wasn’t until he followed one of the curving bends around a corner that he realized his mistake.

The beetles hadn’t been thinning out because they’d lost interest—they’d been breaking away in order to surround him. Kyle frowned at the thought—this was tactical thinking far beyond what low-intellect, instinct-driven creatures should be capable of. Unfortunately, that was an academic issue that would only matter if he could get out of the life-or-death problem he now faced. With the group all moving to surround him, Kyle thought through his options. Because the group had dispersed, he could probably break through the perimeter and retreat with Haste.

That would remove him from the immediate danger, but if the beetles were able to use these types of tactics, there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t have something in place to track him back to his home. His second option would be to try and fight them… which he knew would almost certainly end with him being injured or being forced to retreat. He would certainly cause the swarm some damage, but he knew there was no making up for the difference in numbers. He and C.H.A.D.D. had estimated the total number of the swarm to be about thirty beetles, so even with five dead or incapacitated, that would leave him to square off against almost twenty-five—a losing proposition no matter how he sliced it. The power afforded by a numerical advantage was meaningful. Coming to his decision, blue light began to surge through his body as he activated Haste. He decided to break through and run in a longer arc away from his home before doubling back, hoping that he would be able to lead them astray. As he swatted the beetles out of the way, something strange happened. One of the beetles ripped into the back of another, splashing Kyle and the area in ichor before Kyle was through.

He ran for a good five minutes with his skill active at its minimum power before deactivating it, feeling the dull ache through his body. He had put a great deal of distance between himself and the beetles, and he felt comfortable slowing down, at least for a minute. He had considered heading back to base, but given the mess he’d run through before escaping, he decided against it. It had been years since he’d done any sort of insect biology coursework—all the way back in his undergrad—and he hadn’t exactly been a great student. One of the few things he had remembered was that some insects were able to follow pheromone trails, and if he had to guess, that was similar to what the beetles had tried to do before his escape.

That left him with a problem. He had no effective means that he was aware of to remove the pheromone trail unless he got back to his base, where he had more supplies—most notably dish soap and water. If he returned to his new home, there was a real risk he’d lead the beetles right to not only him but the unawakened family he and C.H.A.D.D. had rescued. He could continue to run, but eventually he would tire out. He hoped the beetles would as well, but if it came down to pure staying power, he had to give the edge to his enemies. This was made worse by his use of Haste, which, for all its power, shaved a lot off his endurance and recovery. He wasn’t in a sprint like he’d been escaping Nierburg, where he could afford to collapse. He was in a marathon against an unseen and unrelenting opponent. He’d made a critical error using his skill as recklessly as he had, and he knew full well that this was a race where every misstep could lead to death.

“Report, soldier.” Gregory Valentine’s voice cracked the air as he leaned forward in his chair, hands clasped before his face. Those piercing eyes looked directly at the unawakened man standing before him at attention, and he almost seemed to flinch at the words. Carlyle was lucky to still be allowed in the room—even after his failures had been made public. They’d been eagerly awaiting a report from Nierburg since their men got taken, and they’d risked a lot to get orders to their people inside before Boltsbury’s group was able to get to the city. That it had taken this long to get word back was concerning, and the Liberation headquarters in Duilleag was buzzing with activity with the news that a runner had arrived. Cornelius and Tucker were in the room with Carlyle as well, and even Cornelius’s smug grin was absent as they waited for the news. “Sir, news from Nierburg. Our captives were taken, and it was confirmed that nobody talked. Our agent in Central Authority wanted you to know that he considered the risks and had them eliminated to protect the operation here, sir.”

Valentine nodded slowly at the news, eyes not leaving the man standing in front of him. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but losses were inevitable. Better to get out of that situation with only a few lost pawns than compromise the rest of the board. “If there’s no other news, you’re dismissed. Go get a meal and some rest.”

“Sir, if I may, I have two other items that our agent in Central Authority wanted you to know.” The soldier was doing his best not to appear nervous, but Valentine could see the subtle shift of his weight from foot to foot. “On with it then.”

“Sir, the first item was related to Garth Boltsbury. DeRosa brought him in as a captain and has assigned him a group. Our agent wanted you to know that he was able to coordinate and get one of ours assigned with him. Beyond that, he assigned Boltsbury some of the real dregs of the awakened in the city. If we come into conflict, our man will act, which Mr. Flotsam believes should give us the advantage if things escalate.”

Now that was good news. It was still a pity Garth was so brainwashed by the Central Authority bastards, but since there was no way he would come on board, it was better to have an option to get him removed. “What else?”

“Sir, the other unidentified awakened that engaged Mr. Atkinson was branded as deviant and denied access to the city. Furthermore, upon the guards’ attempt to eliminate him, he managed to escape nearly unscathed against three mage types and a ranger.” Gregory nodded slowly. He could see why “Mr. Flotsam” would want him to know about this individual; he could be of benefit if he could be approached. However, given the circumstances and his previous interactions with Carlyle, it wasn’t likely he’d be amenable.

He was about to dismiss the soldier when the man shared one last piece. “Sir, Mr. Flotsam wanted you to know that the man’s name was Kyle Mayhew and that his records indicate he’s the genuine article. That’s all I have, sir.”

That revelation was a shock to Valentine, and it took him a moment before he realized all eyes were still on him. “You’re dismissed. All of you.” That was the name that brought him back. He thought about his early days with Central Defense and his time out training in the wilderness with the man the Originators had left to hold things together. He remembered nights around a campfire drinking whisky and listening to the monstrous old man tell stories of how things used to be and how free they all had been. He remembered quiet conversations about corruption and scandal and the direction he’d gone as a result. If there was a man in the world who had his respect, it was Clark Mayhew. And if there was a man who might just understand why they were doing what they did, it might just be his grandson.

Chapter 42

The beetles continued their slow, inexorable advance in pursuit of the prey. Their minds, limited as they were, didn’t understand or appreciate why they were pursuing it, only that they needed to. It had hurt the swarm. It had threatened the swarm. It must die and be consumed. That guiding directive pushed the vanguard of the beetle swarm multiple kilometers, and the pheromone trail left by their fallen was still clear as they closed the distance. Soon, the beetles found themselves at the entrance to a modest two-story home, the doors and ground-floor windows all broken in, leaving a clear path. There was no doubt that their quarry was inside. Mandibles clicked excitedly as the group scuttled over broken wood and glass, the prey that had eluded them these last hours finally in reach.

Kyle couldn’t help but second-guess his decision, but at this point, it was too late to make a change. He was currently inside one of the buildings near where he and C.H.A.D.D. had entered Albaum, which he had not fully explored at C.H.A.D.D.’s recommendation. The building was one of the more heavily damaged structures they’d come across their first day, and the drone had advised that there was a significant risk of the whole thing coming down on their heads if they weren’t careful. Kyle had considered his position long and hard and had come to the conclusion that if fighting and fleeing weren’t valid options, he’d have to rely on superior tactics. It was funny how often having access to these powers limited the way he approached problems. He was so focused on what his powers could do to help him survive that he hadn’t properly considered what other resources and tools might be at his disposal. Ambushes were basic military tactics, and ambush predators often found high degrees of success in the wild. Knowing that and having no better options, Kyle decided to try his hand. Even if all he accomplished was thinning out the group a bit, he would be closer to his goal than before. Knowing he still had at least a few uses of Haste available if necessary, he wasn’t concerned about being able to outrun the group if push came to shove. That mentality changed, however, as he saw the beetles crawling through the doorway and the windows he’d broken earlier.

He hadn’t expected the sheer number of beetles that came lumbering through, and for a horrifying moment, he had a vision of being unable to pass by and being overtaken by the swarm. The fear threatened to paralyze him. Instead, he took a stabilizing breath before initiating his plan. With a grunt of pain, he smashed his shoulder into the damaged support strut exposed in the ceiling and felt it begin to give. He turned and kicked off of it, tucking his shoulder and jumping through the second story window he’d broken out earlier. Behind him, he heard the loud groan and creak of wood giving way, followed by a tremendous crash before he’d even hit the ground. The house was unstable when he and C.H.A.D.D. had originally been scouting, and with the damage Kyle had caused on the second floor, the house’s structure failed. The home collapsed in on his pursuers, and Kyle smiled. There was no way they’d get out of there any time soon.

The reality of his situation reasserted itself as he heard the sound of clicking mandibles and clawed legs methodically shuffling over stone. His best estimate was that he had managed to catch roughly half of the beetles in his trap, which still left an imposing number outside. When he also considered that at least a handful of the beetles in the collapsed house had survived, he knew he needed to make distance again. Gritting his teeth against the intensified pain, Kyle once again activated Haste and ran. This time, he didn’t have a convenient house to drop on his foes, but he did have one more trick up his sleeve.

Kyle deactivated his skill and immediately fell over. The dull ache was now familiar, but he had not expected it to hit him as hard as it did. Coupled with the prolonged use throughout the day and the damage from his two-story fall, it was too much for Kyle’s body to handle. He felt a pit forming in his stomach as he realized the full extent of his exhaustion. He felt Regeneration going to work to help ease the ache and knew he’d be able to stand shortly. It wouldn’t be enough to get back to 100 percent. This would be his last stand.

The area he stepped into was the last part of Albaum that he and C.H.A.D.D. had scouted. They had successfully hunted two smaller groups of beetles down here before, and during the second hunt, they’d found the damaged remains of a rail yard. The mana-infused batteries had been largely corrupted, and most supplies of value had been taken away as well. What was left, however, was one crane holding a large shipping container suspended in the air. Even better, the container wasn’t held with the more common mag-lev technology but with a standard mechanical connection. Kyle knew going in that he would need a lot of luck on his side for this to work but had thought he would be able to escape if the plan went sour. However, with his body in the condition it was in, the stakes had gotten much, much higher.

Clambering over broken glass, Kyle made his way into the control room. He looked around at the various monitors—all dead—until he spotted what he’d hoped he was looking for. A bright red button under the words “EMERGENCY RELEASE” showed him what he wanted to see, and he looked north in the direction his enemies would approach from. In a strange way, the waiting was the hardest part. In his hurry to clear the area he was in before he pushed Haste too far, watching the empty, unmoving horizon was a reminder of how he’d screwed up. He could have deactivated the skill much earlier and still gained ground, but he allowed himself to panic and create the situation he now had to dig his way out of. Almost an hour had passed, but then he saw them. Faint at first, he saw a mottled black mass slowly take the form of close to twenty beetles, all following the trail he’d left behind. They began to congregate in the area, he’d spent much of his time since entering the rail yard—right below the suspended shipping container.

As the last couple of beetles entered the space, he slammed his palm into the “EMERGENCY RELEASE” button. There was a harsh grinding sound, a slight shaking, and then nothing happened. He slammed his palm into the button again and again, but nothing else happened. The beetles, startled by the sound, regrouped and began to move directly toward the control room. Well, that’s not good.

Chapter 43

Kyle’s mind was working on overdrive as he watched the beetles approaching. In retrospect, an emergency release that immediately let go of a suspended shipping container was probably a bigger risk than anything else. Years of action films led me astray. I should have seen that coming. Swallowing his frustration, he refocused on the problem at hand. The narrow entryway into the control room meant only a couple beetles could enter at a time. That cut both ways, of course. Kyle could open the side door to try to escape, but if he made a last stand in this room, it would only be a matter of time until he was overwhelmed by sheer numbers, particularly if they surrounded the platform around the control room.

He was reminded of the Spartan warriors of old earth, and while their exploits were the stuff of legends, he would much prefer survival to martyrdom. He heard the beetles clambering up the steps leading to the control room platform—he was running out of time. Scanning the room one more time, he saw a lever. He wasn’t sure what it did, and reaching over it was pretty much a guarantee that it was jammed. So Kyle wrenched it to the side, hearing a snap as the pins holding it in place broke free, releasing his makeshift baton. It was far lighter than the rebar he had been using before, likely made of aluminum instead of solid steel. Still, it fit comfortably in his hand as he left the control room and jumped onto the roof, working his way up toward the arm of the crane itself. Upon seeing their quarry, the beetles redoubled their pursuit, with a nearly rabid frenzy overtaking the swarm. Kyle wasn’t sure what was going on. Something had agitated them far more than he had expected. With a grunt of effort, Kyle pulled himself up onto the arm of the crane and began climbing until he got to the end, directly above the suspended shipping container. It was easily seven stories in the air, and a fall from this height would almost certainly be fatal if he lost his footing. He was banking on that fact being true for the beetles as well. The arm of the crane was just over a meter wide, and if two beetles tried to approach at once, they ran a significant risk of bumping into each other and limiting their movements. With his weapon and the best fight he was able to pick, Kyle couldn’t help but be thankful that he had never been particularly afraid of heights. As he watched, the first of the beetles made its way onto the roof of the control room and over toward the arm. It hesitated there for a minute as more and more beetles began to congregate. It didn’t seem particularly eager to make the journey across the arm, which was an odd difference from how they’d been behaving just moments prior. It looked one way, then another, then seemed to spasm slightly before fixing its gaze on Kyle and rushing headlong toward him.

The beetle’s charge was direct and predictable, and Kyle was thankful for that. He took a deep breath, steadied his legs, and as soon as the beetle crossed into range, he twisted his hips and swung his baton, striking the creature square in the side and knocking it off the crane. It tried to flutter the wings on its back, but as Kyle suspected, they couldn’t do much to decelerate the fall. It smashed into the ground with an audible crunching sound, and Kyle knew it was out for the count. Looking down the arm, more beetles exhibited the same strange behavior before charging, and the next handful of seconds were frenetic chaos as Kyle struck beetle after beetle, each with the same results as the first. After he’d knocked down his eighth opponent, he had a moment to breathe. He looked down the arm and frowned. The beetles were congregating near the base, and that was when Kyle spotted something odd. There was a beetle among the mass that didn’t look like the others—for one, it wasn’t plodding along on heavy feet but rather floating alongside the others with a set of furiously flapping small wings. It was rotund and bulbous, almost looking more like some sort of mutated housefly than anything else. Its abdomen was particularly large, and he could feel mana pulsing inside, a rhythmic red glow brightening and fading in time with the mana. Kyle didn’t know how he could feel the mana from this far away, but there was undoubtedly some sort of connection to this insect.

From the way it was acting, it felt much the same. It met his eyes, and Kyle suddenly felt a faint compulsion to walk over to the group of beetles. It was fleeting and over as soon as it came, but Kyle was shaken by the impulse. This was more than an intrusive thought—this was a direction being given by this strange creature. That explains the swarm and the odd level of coordination, Kyle thought, keeping eye contact as they maintained their strange standoff.

With only ten beetles left on its side, it fluttered about them with fervent energy, sending two at once in a bid to take him down. Fortunately, Kyle’s earlier estimation proved correct, as their approach was slowed by their lack of coordination. Legs got caught on legs, angrily fluttering wings buffeted one another, and though there was a numbers advantage, they just didn’t have the position to capitalize on it. These two were dispatched quickly, meeting their end with a grisly crunch of chitin on cement. Kyle grinned as he looked down the arm at his assailants. They might be smart for bugs, but they’re definitely not tacticians. He felt his victory was almost assured, until once again the mutated fly began to flutter about and rub its barbed legs together, whipping up the remaining beetles, which angrily clicked their mandibles and scratched at the steel beneath their claws. Kyle cocked his head at the sight, and then it hit him. A compulsion order of magnitude more powerful than the one before, all focused on jumping off the end of the arm.

He had taken half a step to do exactly that before he regained his senses, but that critical moment was enough. As one, eight beetles began barreling toward him. They had been moved by the same directive that had struck him, and he simply didn’t have the space or the time to take a stance and attack. Even if he did, with eight running in a row, he wouldn’t have the time to knock them all off before one of them managed to bowl him over. They were almost on him now, and so he took the one option left to him.

He jumped.

Chapter 44

Kyle felt a pang of dread as he fell, landing with a crash on the cold metal of the suspended shipping container. The jolt of the impact ran up his legs, even though the fall was only a few meters. He looked to the arm of the crane, where he saw the remaining beetles careen off the edge. They didn’t even try to follow him to the container’s edge, instead falling the full distance to crunch against the ground. He couldn’t see the fly from his angle, but with the other beetles gone, Kyle felt confident in his ability to put the creature down. And a raw, primal instinct inside him was very eager to do just that. First, though, he had to figure out how to extricate himself from the container. A fall from this height would still certainly be fatal, and he didn’t relish the idea of trying to climb up the cables attached to the mechanically attached claw.

He suspected the fly didn’t have much in the way of ranged combat abilities, but if it was able to do… whatever it had been doing and get him to loosen his grip for even a second, it would be fatal. Unfortunately, that didn’t leave him with a lot of options. He frowned as he considered what to do next. He had to treat his lone adversary as Schrodinger’s bug—it could be escaping, but at the same time, it could be waiting for him to reveal himself and put himself in danger. He couldn’t proceed with the former assumption because it was a death sentence, but if he did nothing and it got away, he had neither the means nor the time to track it down. That in and of itself would leave staying put the safest option for him. The part of him that wanted the fly dead would not be satisfied with that outcome.

As he looked at the claws of the crane holding the shipping container steady, he had an idea. It was a very bad idea. It was an idea that could backfire spectacularly. But as he thought about it, it made more and more sense. Sitting up on this shipping container wasn’t a viable long-term solution. He would have to get down eventually, one way or another. Worst case, if he stayed here too long, the fly could convince another group of beetles to follow it and finish the job. Unlikely? Yes. Possible? Also yes.

With that massive justification in mind, Kyle used his baton as a prybar to disengage the hydraulic mechanisms holding one of the claws in place. With a loud groan, the claw disengaged, causing the shipping container to lurch violently as it lost support. For his part, Kyle had a strong grip on the newly released handle of the container, barely managing to hold on as it ground to a halt. Kyle had hoped it would swing in a larger arc, bringing him closer to the stairway he’d taken to the control room, but the container had stopped short. Kyle frowned as he considered his next steps and had almost let go of his firm handhold to begin climbing when he heard another, much more ominous groan accompanied by bursts of hissing sounds. In the release and movement of the container, something else had been shaken loose. He heard the steel around him groan in stress against the movement. The groaning of the metal ramped into a squealing crescendo, and the entire arm of the crane began to twist and fall.

Almost instinctively, Kyle activated Haste. The magnified pain of his small injuries caused him to flinch and almost cost his grip, but he managed to hold on. It wasn’t the physical speed Kyle was hoping to tap, but rather the accelerated Perception that came along with the skill. He watched the twisting crane begin to topple the entire structure, starting with the control room. The fall caused the now free-hanging end of the shipping container to swing in an arc, and Kyle watched intently, pushing down the waves of adrenaline pushing him to act. He knew he would only have one shot at this, and if his timing was off, he’d wind up a pancake on the ground, flattened and crushed under tons of collapsing steel. As the arc of the shipping container reached its zenith, Kyle swung and let go, arms and legs windmilling as he landed hard on the steel platform outside the control room. Even with the enhanced durability of his skin, the broken glass left him with jagged cuts, and the impact caused sharp jolts of pain to echo through his body. Haste magnified the pain of the injuries even further, but he knew that he couldn’t afford to deactivate it. Pushing more mana into the skill, he ran as fast as he was able, vaulting down the stairs as the structure continued to twist and collapse. He had almost gotten free when the final snap occurred, and the entire fabricated base fell on its side in a massive explosion of dust and concrete.

The pain was excruciating as he was slammed into the torn cement. One shoulder was almost certainly dislocated, and he knew he’d broken a couple of his ribs. His existence was a dull ache with searing daggers punching into him, but he was alive. He was alive. Kyle couldn’t help but smile, despite the pain. He had actually done it. He was a bloody, damaged mess, but he’d managed to pull through in the end. A faint buzzing sound snapped Kyle out of his moment of elation, and he focused on the fly as it slowly descended. It clearly wasn’t designed for agile aerial maneuvers, as it wobbled during its descent. Kyle suspected that, similar to the beetles it was leading, the mutated growth prevented it from being able to fly like a normal winged insect would. It was faring much better than its comrades, however, and soon it landed on the ground facing Kyle. Despite clearly not being geared for combat in the same way the beetles were, its sharp mandibles and claw-tipped legs still posed a threat. It looked to be observing him in his pathetic state, two of its legs rubbing together with what Kyle could only describe as hunger in its red eyes.

Kyle regarded the fly, and the anger inside him flared again. Was it anger? No, it was something similar but also fundamentally different. As the fly began to crawl toward him, Kyle put that in the back of his mind. He didn’t have the luxury of reflection; he had one more hurdle to overcome. He was shaky, his legs hurt, and his left arm was useless, at least for now. The accumulated aches and damage from the course of the day had caught up with him, and he could barely stand straight. The fly accelerated, intending to overwhelm Kyle and take him to the ground. Kyle swayed, uneasy on his feet, as the fly approached. He was tired, he was in pain, but in that moment, he had a flash of clarity. He would not die here. He heard a roar of defiance escape his lips as he pushed his Haste skill to its apex, just as the fly lunged at him to take him down. A deep step with his left foot took him out of harm’s way and to the right of the fly’s charge, and with every scrap of energy he had left, he twisted his hips and shot his right arm out in a vicious palm strike, hitting the fly with the combined momentum of their charges and the full power of Haste behind him.

He felt the chitin crack against his palm as the insect was thrown backward, just as he felt the bones in his right arm crack in synchrony. A blissful numbness came over him as he deactivated Haste, no longer possessing the mana control to maintain the skill. It was all he could do to keep Regeneration active, but as he regarded the broken form of his adversary, he felt an urge far stronger than the one he’d felt atop the crane arm, and he limped toward it one step at a time. The fly was dead—no two ways about it—but something was changing in the mana that had been glowing in the abdomen. Trails of red energy flowed out of the fly’s body, coalescing into a small, red gem. Kyle lifted his broken arm toward it, enthralled. As his trembling fingers brushed it, it dissolved into a wave of energy that flowed around and into his skin. There was agony like thousands of needles digging into his skin, and then there was only darkness.

Chapter 45

Frank was gasping for air as he was trying to keep up with the drone. It had been over a day since the drone had led him and the girls to the shelter they had been staying in, and the drone had made multiple disappearances in that time. Frank hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the stranger who had saved them, but over the course of the last day, he surmised that the man and the odd drone had been traveling together for quite some time. The girls were happy to have a safe place to stay, and Frank could tell that the rest had done them well. Frank was even happier that there was a functional kitchen, and he was able to feed his granddaughters some warm food after weeks of dried grains and meats. Frank had been taking what he’d surmised was a well-deserved nap when the drone came flying in a couple hours ago, asking for assistance. Well, asking was probably too strong of a word. The drone threatened to report him as unlicensed personnel using the kitchen, and while Frank wasn’t sure if that was actually a criminal violation, he didn’t want to push his luck. They’d made it this far—if the stranger and his drone were part of the Central Authority, Frank didn’t want to hurt their odds in Nierburg because of something like this.

So, he found himself chasing the small drone all the way across the city until they reached a train yard. The entire crane structure had twisted and toppled over, and it looked like a shipping container had smashed into one of the other small structures, completely burying it. The sight of the destroyed equipment was hard to see. He’d spent years in his youth working loading and unloading containers in shipyards and knew how important this kind of infrastructure was. Even for a town like this that was relatively close to larger cities, he knew the impact of having direct shipping couldn’t be understated. The dirty white drone had stopped moving, floating motionlessly in place past a fallen container. “My metallic friend, I see a lot of scrap here, but all of it’s too heavy for an old man like me to move. If your friend is here, he’s…” Frank’s voice trailed off as he took in the view behind the container. He saw the scattered and crushed bodies of over a dozen of the beetles scattered across the ground, and not too far away, he saw the motionless body of the young man he’d seen before. He was lying in a pool of dark fluid, and as Frank ran toward his side, he saw it was a mix of both blood and ichor from the destroyed remains of an insect that was nearby.

The drone floated alongside him and wasted no time giving instructions. [DR. MAYHEW’S MANA SIGNATURES ARE FLUCTUATING, BUT VITALS APPEAR STABLE ENOUGH. SCANS DO NOT INDICATE SPINAL TRAUMA. INTERNAL BLEEDING IS STILL POSSIBLE, ANOMALIES PRESENT THROUGHOUT THE BODY. ASSESSMENT—SAFE FOR TRANSPORT.] C.H.A.D.D. floated expectantly near the body, waiting for a response.

Frank coughed, uncomfortable at the response. “Robot, I don’t know what you’re expecting from me, but there’s no way I can carry him all the way back. I’m exhausted from making it this far. I’ll do what I can—I’m thankful to both of you—but we need to be realistic here.”

[THAT WON’T BE AN ISSUE. YOU HAVE ASSISTANCE.]

Frank was about to comment that the small drone hardly counted as assistance, but before he could, it floated over to some nearby rubble. A very sheepish looking Arianna and a happily smiling Amalia stepped out from behind the fallen scaffolding they were hiding behind. “Arianna, what are you two doing out here?” Frank admonished, worry clear in his voice. “I asked you to stay back; it could be dangerous out here.”

Fierce brown eyes met his as she responded, “It’s dangerous everywhere, Grandpa. We’ve already lost too much. We’re not going to sit back and lose you too.” Her determination took Frank off guard, and he found his eyes misting, not finding the words to respond. He smiled at his granddaughter, pride welling in his chest at the impressive young woman she was becoming.

Frank lifted the young man, startled by the condition of his dry, cracked skin. It almost felt like it was flaking away, and he adjusted the man’s arm over his shoulder, Arianna taking his other arm in a similar fashion. He was a mess. If it weren’t for the gentle breathing telling them he was alive, he wouldn’t have believed it. It was slow going, but they made it back to the shelter before sundown and without incident. Amalia, not wanting to be left out, was happily chatting away with C.H.A.D.D., who obliged, answering the endless questions coming from the young mind. When they’d gotten back, Amalia sprang into action, having asked C.H.A.D.D. how she could help. She got cool water and gently poured it into his mouth on a regular rotation, while Arianna and Frank took some old but relatively clean rags to wipe the blood, grime, and ash off of him. Cleaned and more hydrated, they settled him into the makeshift bed in the corner.

With nothing else left to do, Frank took his Escrima sticks out and began to work through flow drills, practicing the motions he’d been training since he was a little boy. The flow of the weapon movements put him at ease, and his granddaughters watched as they had so often over the past several months. An hour later, he took a break and passed the sticks off to Arianna as he walked her through the techniques and the flowing movements, just like his father had done for him. Amalia watched with excitement as she always did, though she had no interest in learning the martial art. He watched with pride as Arianna continued to work on the motions, but found himself troubled as he thought about the next steps. The young man who had saved them was back, but still unconscious. Even more troubling, if there were more swarms like the one that had been killed at the train yard, he didn’t hold much hope for them being able to make it to Nierburg safely. That left him with two choices, each with their own problems. He could either leave and risk the beetles or stay and be at the mercy of a random awakened. While he was incredibly thankful for the help, this Kyle Mayhew was also the devil he didn’t know. All Frank really knew about him was that he had enough power to handle an army of mutated insects, and power like that was either connected to the Central Authority or in opposition to it. Given the condition of the ramshackle shelter, Frank had to assume the latter. His contemplation was broken by a rustling sound from the corner—and then the young man started screaming.

Chapter 46

Kyle was drifting from dream to dream, foreign concepts and thoughts whirling around in his mind. One moment he was in his scrubs serving patients, the next he was standing in the middle of a ruined city all alone. Then he was in water, a pond skater struggling to escape from a fish, only to be whisked off to being a drone bee in a hive refining honey. Then he was back in school, learning the basic concepts of mana control. He knew that this had to be related to the mutation he’d gone through. Underpinning all of the dreams and memories was a pain entirely different from any he’d experienced before. It had started in the realm of the physical—he knew that much—but it had somehow burrowed deeper into his being than even the nerve pain he felt as a backlash from using Haste.

The agony grew more and more familiar as he dreamed, though the familiarity did little to lessen the intensity. Then, abruptly, it vanished. It wasn’t just the pain, every sensation ceased except a rhythmic pulsing of mana. It was foreign, but Kyle had spent enough time exposed to it to recognize aspects of the chaotic mana he’d been living in and recovering from for nearly half a year. With everything else filtered out, he could much more easily feel the flow of the mana infusing his body, giving strength as it also created strain. He marveled at that for a brief moment, until he felt an odd sense of connection through the mana. It felt like it came from the same source as the instinctive anger he’d felt toward the fly he’d killed, but orders of magnitude more potent. It wasn’t anger this time, and as he focused on it, the connection started to shift. He felt the attention of… something turn toward him. Kyle couldn’t explain it; whatever it was, he knew it was ancient and vast, possessing unimaginable power. Unable to move or react, the only thing Kyle could do was wait as the incredible presence focused on him.

That was the moment Kyle knew what it was like to be less than prey. Whatever this presence was had taken notice of him, and despite feeling no hostility toward him, Kyle felt exposed and utterly terrified. Then, as quickly as it had rested upon him, it was gone. Kyle felt a faint tinge of approval before pain once again washed over his body—although this time there was no doubt the pain was physical. Kyle’s eyes popped open, his hoarse throat letting out a scream at the sudden return of all the pain he’d been bearing. He expected to see the open sky, but instead saw the sterile ceiling of the kitchen he now called home. Taking deep breaths, he tried to move each of his limbs before sitting up. His heart rate slowed as he continued breathing, and it was only then that he noticed he was not alone in the room. He was shocked to see the three strangers in the room with him until he saw the familiar sight of C.H.A.D.D. floating close by. They look familiar, he thought. Where have I? Oh, yeah. The memory of the people they’d saved came back to his mind, and after a quick introduction, the older gentleman took his granddaughters outside to give Kyle time to clean up.

As Kyle moved and washed, he noticed a series of cracks across his skin. They didn’t hurt, but as he pushed at one, he found the skin extremely brittle. “C.H.A.D.D., can you run a scan of my body? Something’s wrong.”

[I’VE ALREADY TAKEN THE LIBERTY, DR. MAYHEW. A FRESH DERMAL LAYER APPEARS TO HAVE GROWN AND SOLIDIFIED UNDER THE LAYER PRIOR, RESULTING IN A NETWORK OF CRACKS. THE NEW DERMAL LAYER ALSO APPEARS TO HAVE MORE NUMEROUS AND ROBUST PATHWAYS FOR MANA CIRCULATION AND IS APPROXIMATELY 30% THICKER.]

Kyle could only sit and blink at the information from the drone. Sure enough, as he pulled back a layer of the external skin, a new layer existed directly below. The next half hour was spent sloughing off the old, which was an incredibly uncomfortable endeavor.

What the hell am I turning into? Still, when the work was done, Kyle had to marvel a bit at the results. Old scars and blemishes were completely gone with the new layer of skin, and he could feel it was not only thicker than before but much stronger. The chitinous weave was tighter and of higher quality, which was at the same time exciting and terrifying. Whatever that red gem was that he touched, its integration into his body had resulted in his non-human characteristics being magnified further. While it likely came with more power, it also came with risks, most of which Kyle didn’t have a grid to identify or understand. With a sigh, Kyle dressed in a set of fresh clothes they’d found and sat down cross-legged, deciding to enter meditation and take a look at his center before inviting Frank, Arianna, and Amalia back into his home. As he entered his center, he immediately saw the changes, much more significant internally than what had happened with his body.

The pattern he had grown so accustomed to seeing had shifted materially. Where once there had been a void with a facsimile of himself within it, now there were streams of energy twisting and circling around the image. The pattern representing his core attributes had also shifted. Before, he had looked at an empty circle with seven slowly rotating arms that represented his core attributes. The seven arms were still present, but they bent and swayed as they moved, each with three flowing circular patterns that attached at various places along the arm. One of the circles was glowing red, but Kyle chose to finish his examination before looking at the details. The circle at the core of the arms had changed as well; it had expanded and added a smaller set of concentric circles inside. He saw that he’d gained a level and identified the familiar motes of light that indicated free attribute points, but those were now only in the outermost ring. The next two layers of circles were empty, with the very center holding a flickering energy the same shade as the dust he’d absorbed from the fly. Steeling himself, he once again focused on the image, bringing the words to his mind.

KYLE MAYHEW. ARTHRO-HUMAN CHIMERA (AWAKENED), HEALER. LEVEL 51

VITALITY: 183

ENDURANCE: 183

STRENGTH: 59

DEXTERITY: 122

WILLPOWER: 139

INTELLIGENCE: 185

PERCEPTION: 188

FREE ATTRIBUTES: 12

He was a little surprised at how… normal it looked. He noted the word “AWAKENED” had been added, but he had already been awakened for many years beforehand. Maybe it was in reference to the “arthro” aspect? He allocated his free attribute points in an even split between Vitality, Endurance, Intelligence, and Willpower. That, too, felt very normal. He noted that the points he’d added to Endurance went to the arm with the glowing red node, and he focused on that as well. At first, nothing happened, but as he continued to focus, he got an impression that quickly changed to words.

Adaptive Anatomy —1/?—Enhanced Carapace.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it, and it didn’t give him much in the way of explanation. Looking at the other arms with the empty nodes, the best guess he had was that as the nodes filled, he’d see similar changes that would directly relate to the attribute in question. The Adaptive Anatomy he saw when he first shifted to a chimera had gained a point, and Kyle thought back to what he’d absorbed from the fly.

He tried taking time to look at the red energy flowing around his image and the concentric circles with the energy in the center, but he wasn’t able to get more than vague impressions of power, none of which was helpful to him. Leaving meditation, Kyle felt overwhelmed. Whatever had been happening to him, he was more powerful than he’d ever been, at the cost of becoming less human. He thought about the anger that he had felt toward the fly—the primal, territorial rage he’d experienced. When he’d killed it, he wasn’t thinking about survival. He just wanted to see it dead. When he’d killed it, he was satisfied. And that thought chilled him. He thought about the anger he’d felt toward Garth and the others from Duilleag. What would have happened if they’d been on the receiving end of that emotion? Would he have been able to stop it? Not now, Kyle. Control what you can control.

With these thoughts lingering in the back of his mind, he stepped outside to greet the family he’d saved. Feeling the midday warmth on his face, he saw Frank walking his older granddaughter through a martial arts routine with two sticks. They stopped when they saw him, and he waved in greeting. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just wanted to let you know you’re welcome to come back inside, and I also wanted to thank you. I don’t know that I would have made it if it wasn’t for your help in bringing me back.”

The old man broke into a broad smile as he responded, “One hand helps another. I was hoping to talk about what comes next in any event, though maybe after we eat.”

Taking the sticks offered by Arianna, Frank and the girls made their way back into the shelter. They brought Kyle up to speed on everything that had been happening, and he was honestly shocked. Like he’d suspected, the damage was reduced significantly the farther they moved past Nierburg, and there were large groups of survivors and settlements that had been established in the smaller cities. Frank, Arianna, and Amalia were in one such settlement before they left, having caught wind of an awakened warlord and his bandits traveling in their direction. Many chose to stay, but Frank wasn’t willing to take the risk with his granddaughters. Knowing there was safety in Nierburg, they had decided to make the journey.

There was a question that had gone unasked, but Kyle picked up on it and decided to address it directly. “I’d be happy to help get you close to the city, but I’m not exactly welcome there myself. Still, if I can get you close enough, you’ll be able to make it the rest of the way safely.”

The relief was evident on Frank’s face as he smiled. “You have no idea how much that offer means.”

Kyle smiled back. “I’m happy to help. It’s already mid-afternoon, you’re welcome to spend the night here, and we can take off in the morning.”

People help each other, Kyle thought. I’m still me, dammit. Oblivious to the conflict in Kyle’s mind, Frank and the girls nodded in agreement.

Frank asked one more question. “You’re welcome to any of the rations we have left over after the travel tomorrow, but is there anything else we can do for you or help with before we go?”

At that, Kyle couldn’t help but grin as he gestured to the Escrima sticks. “How exactly do you fight with those things?”

Chapter 47

It wound up being two more days until they left, Kyle quickly realizing he wasn’t up to full strength and Arianna and Frank enjoying having a new student to teach. The foundation Kyle had been building started to bear fruit, and he was picking up the basics quickly. “Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.” This mantra was consistent in his training, and he was appreciative of Frank’s patience. Garth was a good instructor, but his style was very much centered around powerful, direct strikes. He rarely faced an enemy that could take more than a couple strikes with his sword, and even fewer that could handle his skills when he brought them to bear. Kyle, by contrast, had neither strong offensive skills like Air Blade nor the relative Strength that Garth possessed. The only tool that came close was his heavily infused Haste skill, and that was a double-edged sword that he’d rather avoid using. Frank told him the name of the art he practiced was Escrima, an old-world style from the Philippines. The focus wasn’t on big flashy attacks but rather on precise strikes and flowing combinations. The style was also flexible enough to use a wide variety of weapons as well as barehanded variations, which was appealing to Kyle. Thinking about all the makeshift weapons he’d had to make use of, he appreciated the framework that he could apply to the tools he had on-hand.

He learned that Frank had actually killed a handful of wandering beetles with the dual stick style, an impressive feat for an unawakened. He remembered back to how Dalen had been so badly injured by just one of the mutated insects, and his respect for the man grew. Frank was a kind man, but at his core, he was an incredibly disciplined and competent instructor. The athleticism and physical benefits provided by Kyle’s ever-growing attributes could cover for a lot of technical flaws, but the slow movements made him appreciate just how sloppy his motions were. Frank never let a mistake go without correction, but his words were always seasoned with kindness and grace. Arianna, on the other hand, was draconian. Even though she wasn’t nearly as skilled as her grandfather, she had an eye for detail and wasn’t shy about telling Kyle where he was making mistakes. Usually, it came down to a lack of patience on Kyle’s side leading to swings being too wide or letting his arms make the motion without the hips following. None of it got past Arianna’s sharp eyes, and she was quick to put his failures front and center.

The most surprising of all, however, was Amalia. While she had no interest in learning Escrima, she had an uncanny grasp for the rhythm and flow of the fighting style. That was a skill she’d likely picked up watching her grandfather and sister train, and Kyle couldn’t do much about the pang of grief he felt toward his own grandfather. I wonder what he’d be doing in a situation like this, he mused, remembering fondly the time spent together. There’s one thing that was certain—Clark would have helped as many people as he could with the power he had. That solidified the decision he’d made to help this family, and as they’d talked and trained over the last two days, Kyle had finished mapping out his next steps. Ultimately, there were people in danger to the southwest of Nierburg and refugees on their way. If there was a place he could do good, it was there. Even better, he could leave Albaum as a home base. If people making it to Nierburg saw Kyle on the opposite end, any search parties sent out for him would likely start there. It meant he needed to figure out a system for his supplies, but the shape of the idea was getting clearer and clearer.

The walk to Nierburg was relatively quiet. Kyle was at the rear, with C.H.A.D.D. leading the group, scanning for signs of beetles and other signs of life. Frank was behind C.H.A.D.D., with the girls in the middle. Amalia wasn’t thrilled about all the walking, but she quickly discovered a solution—making Kyle carry her. Much more satisfied with this mode of transportation, they made quick time through the woods, and before the sun set over the ash-covered horizon, they broke into the clearing surrounding Nierburg. Putting Amalia on the ground, Kyle turned to Frank and Arianna. “This is as close as I should get. It looks like it’s a pretty easy trip over, and I wouldn’t want to cause any trouble for you. I’ll stay here in the trees in case something unexpected happens, but you should be safe from here.”

Frank nodded, holding out his hand and grabbing Kyle’s. “Thank you, for everything. I can’t tell you what it means to me to get my girls somewhere safe, somewhere with opportunities.”

Once again reminded of his grandfather, Kyle smiled as he shook the older man’s hand. Arianna was looking at the city, anticipation and anxiety clear on her face. Amalia just jumped up and hugged Kyle with all the strength her little frame could muster, and Kyle couldn’t help but laugh. He watched them for nearly an hour until he saw them approach the guard station at the gate without incident.

[DR. MAYHEW, WAS THAT WISE?]

“Wow, that’s a little heavy, don’t you think, C.H.A.D.D.?” He looked at the drone that was floating patiently near his head.

[DUE RESPECT, DR. MAYHEW, BUT YOUR HEROISM NEARLY GOT YOU KILLED. THE CONSEQUENCES TO YOUR HEALTH ARE STILL UNKNOWN. NO STUDIES AVAILABLE IN MY RECORDS HAVE ANY EVIDENCE OF CHANGES LIKE THE ONES HAPPENING IN YOUR BODY. YOU ARE A HEALER. YOU ARE A DOCTOR. YOU ARE NOT A FIGHTER.]

Well, damn. Kyle was about to quip back at the drone, but he had to admit that there was something to what it had said. Suppressing his sass, he decided to try to explain it in a way that the drone might understand. “It wasn’t about fighting, C.H.A.D.D. It wasn’t a rational decision, and I recognized the risks when I went there. It was about having the power to help and knowing it was the right thing to do. It’s what my grandfather would have done.”

There was silence as they walked for a while, until C.H.A.D.D. finally responded, [AS A POINT OF FACT, YOU AREN’T YOUR GRANDFATHER EITHER.]

The words were like a punch to the gut. A mix of emotions stirred up within him, which Kyle had a hard time sorting. The drone was right, of course. He couldn’t hold a candle to Clark’s legacy or power, and while he no longer felt the guilt the way he did, he accepted the fact that Clark’s power would have made a meaningful difference in an environment like this one. He realized his strengths and skills were in entirely different spheres than his grandfather’s were. And trying to solve problems the way his grandfather did was likely not to just get him killed. At the same time, hearing those words from C.H.A.D.D. caused a blossom of anger to flare up in his chest. He had helped people. He had bled, sacrificed, and been hurt to help people. And yet, instead of praise or words of encouragement and thanks, the drone had the audacity to tell him his heroism was misplaced? That he shouldn’t have done what he did?

Trying to keep the heat out of his voice, he responded as best he could, “I know I’m not. But that doesn’t mean that I’m off the hook for doing what I can when I can. Even if that means I am in danger or I get hurt, if I don’t do something, nobody else will.” The drone floated in silence next to him, Kyle anticipating a snarky response. None came, however, and Kyle activated Haste, grabbing C.H.A.D.D. and making their way back to Albaum in silence.

Chapter 48

Kyle didn’t know what he expected to find when he and C.H.A.D.D. decided to go southwest, but in just a few days of normal-paced travel, they’d encountered their first group of refugees. Their story lined up closely with what Frank had told them about roving groups of raiders and the awakened warlords that were leading the groups. Several more days had passed as they traveled, slowly accumulating survivors into a caravan headed toward Nierburg.

Other than healing the injuries and damage from the chaotic mana, Kyle mostly kept to himself. For their part, these people were in markedly worse condition than Frank and his granddaughters, having lost both supplies and people to the various raider groups. Many eyed Kyle with suspicion, and Kyle couldn’t fault them after what they’d been through.

He didn’t push the issue, taking time in the mornings before the caravan left and in the evenings after it settled in to run through varied sets of the drills he’d accumulated over the last months. C.H.A.D.D. was a tremendous help during these training sessions, projecting overlays of the movements and offering corrections and criticism as he practiced. When he got the slower movements down, he'd then practice at increasing levels of speed and from different positions.

Kyle felt the pieces coming together as he practiced, but he also realized how much he had yet to learn to get any degree of mastery over the techniques. Despite the challenges, he felt incredibly motivated to keep practicing and learning. He knew he didn’t have the makings of a truly top-tier fighter, but the struggle reminded him of his early days of medical school. The long hours, challenging content, and constant practice were all familiar to him, and finding a new outlet to apply himself was much-needed stress relief.

Even better, having C.H.A.D.D. available to offer recordings of Frank and Garth as reference material allowed him to study the movements as they traveled. He was aware that the people tossed some strange looks his way, but he didn’t mind in the least. One of the most important things he’d decided going in was that he didn’t want to get too close to the people he was bringing in. That created an opportunity for the Central Authority in Nierburg to learn more than was safe if they pressed the issue, and he thought it best for both the civilians and himself if they kept a degree of distance. They were cordial and appreciative of his help but were not going to get overly friendly.

Their travels were slow and uneventful until the fifth day, when C.H.A.D.D. stopped them barely an hour into their travels. [DR. MAYHEW, I’M DETECTING TWELVE UNAWAKENED SIGNATURES CONSISTENT WITH HUMANS WAITING AHEAD ON EITHER SIDE OF THE ROAD.]

Kyle nodded at that, surprised it had taken this long. They weren’t exactly making efforts to hide their passage, and as the caravan had grown, it was expected that they would draw attention.

While there were nearly forty people in the group Kyle was leading to Nierburg, they were mostly elderly, women, and children. There were certainly some younger men in the group, but the attacks from the raider groups had been particularly hard on that population.

Kyle turned to one of the older women who had been an unofficial leader of the largest group. “Tabitha, trouble ahead. Keep the group here; I’m going to handle it.”

Her tired eyes rested on him for a moment, seeming to take his measure before nodding. “Be safe.” Nodding in return, Kyle turned to C.H.A.D.D.

“Stay here and let Tabitha know if you pick up anything else or if things go badly for me out there. Any advanced notice could be life or death for the people here.”

[UNDERSTOOD, DR. MAYHEW.]

Kyle walked down the middle of the dilapidated highway, arms casually at his side. When he’d made it to the spot where he’d expected to see the ambush, he stopped. Nobody emerged, so he decided to take a more direct approach. “I know you’re here. I know you’re after the caravan. You and people like you have already taken more than enough from them. I’m going to give you one opportunity to leave peacefully.”

In response, a group of men came out of the underbrush and cover of the trees on either side of the road. “Ain’t this cute, we gots ourself a hero, boys. If you had any idea who we work for, you’d have kept your filthy trap shut.”

That was met by rough laughter as more and more men made themselves visible, Kyle counting eleven of the twelve C.H.A.D.D. had identified. Either a scout, a runner, or a sniper. Not a bad idea, to be honest. “Awful big talk, considering the lot of you have no idea who I am. Ask yourself, what kind of man walks alone and unarmed into an ambush?”

He had hoped the veiled threat would be enough to get them to reconsider, but unfortunately, these weren’t exactly the brains of the operation. “A dead man, that’s who! Get him!” With that, the group descended on Kyle, brandishing their weapons. Mostly they wielded cudgels made from whatever they had on hand, but there were a couple knives and a full-blown machete in the hands of the raiders as well. With a deep exhale, Kyle took his stance and prepared to fight.

Against hordes of awakened insects, Kyle didn’t put too much stock in his combat abilities. Even against enemies like Garth and Carlyle, he knew he would still have trouble. An uncoordinated group of poorly trained thugs? It wasn’t a fight.

Kyle exploded into motion, smashing into the closest club-wielding opponent. He quickly got inside the reach of the club and landed a strike with his elbow into the man’s jaw. The man’s momentum completely stalled, and Kyle reached around his arms and slammed him into a nearby man with a knife, causing both to stumble. Not letting up, Kyle grabbed the discarded club and battered both men, careful not to kill but certainly cracking bones in their arms.

As the others closed, Kyle threw the club at a man approaching on his left, stunning him as he dove into the man on his right. Tackling the man to the ground, Kyle followed up with a couple of savage punches to the ribs before getting to his feet and once again creating distance. In the span of just a few seconds, he had taken three of the men completely out of the fight. Thunder cracked the air, and Kyle felt an impact in his back, just to the left of his spine. It was a sniper, good call.

The stopping power and impact were much weaker than the rifles he’d been shot by before, and Kyle expected it to have come from a smaller caliber sidearm. I’ve been shot enough to start drawing comparisons. That’s probably not good. The bullet didn’t even break his skin.

Watching him stand there unbothered after taking a bullet seemed to give the group pause, and Kyle heard cracking sticks and crunching leaves as the man hiding at the forest’s edge tried to get back to cover. Activating Haste, Kyle closed the distance in the blink of an eye, registering the terror on the man’s face as he struck him twice in rapid succession, snapping his ribs like twigs. He took up the discarded firearm in one hand and dragged the other man by his collar as he approached the group that still stood unmoving. Grunting with effort, he tossed the defeated man to the ground.

“I didn’t come here for bloodshed; in fact, I came here to try to avoid it. Against my better judgment, I’m going to give you all another chance. Take your injured, run to whoever the hell your boss is, and tell him that he’s on notice. I’m not inclined to leave survivors if I cross your paths again.” Looking at the fear plain on the other men’s faces, he could tell they finally realized the danger they were in. They grabbed their injured men and took off to the south, opposite the direction that the caravan would be heading.

A short while later, Kyle returned to the group. Tabitha eyed him with a modicum of surprise. “That didn’t take long. We heard the gunshot and thought the worst.”

“What can I say? He was a bad shot. Let’s get moving—plenty of road left to cover between here and Nierburg. Kyle turned to lead the group, but if he’d looked back, he would have seen Tabitha’s eyes widen as she saw the bullet hole in his shirt, the skin underneath pristine.

Chapter 49

Garth couldn’t help but smile as he saw another group of refugees break the tree cover on their way to Nierburg’s gate. It had been almost three months since he’d arrived, and while he often wondered how his friend was doing, the evidence before his eyes was more than enough proof he was doing just fine. It was only a handful of refugees at first, but now a regular stream was arriving, all speaking of a mysterious Healer who tended their wounds and led them to safety. He and Terrance were manning the gate itself, with Joseph and Mary Ellen manning the tower with Johannes in reserve. He didn’t have a lot of hope for his squad actually having to deal with trouble, but he was making do with what he had. Joseph was a pudgy twenty-something who was still finding his place in the world; Mary Ellen had been trying to get to Central Administration but had been rejected; and Johannes was sixteen and had just awakened and been told to take the Healer class, which he wasn’t any good at. Terrance was the most competent of the group, but also the one Garth trusted the least. In the last several months of training, Garth got a similar impression to the one he’d gotten with Kyle. The man was holding something back. All his training with Kyle had helped Garth see when somebody was intentionally holding back. The man was a damn good actor, but he still felt too comfortable for somebody claiming to be a novice. The way he carried himself when he thought Garth wasn’t watching led him to believe that he had more up his sleeve. Either way, so long as the man did his job and didn’t put the rest of the squad in danger, Garth wasn’t going to pry. At least not yet. Approaching the leader of the caravan, he began the lengthy process of sorting and organizing before letting them into the city.

Victor DeRosa was having a bad day. His morning tea didn’t have enough cream, the biscuits were too dry, and he had a never-ending stream of refugees pouring into his city. When he was designing his plan for the new Nierburg, he gave a lot of thought to the risks he’d need to take and the prices he’d need to pay to achieve his goals. In his original prioritization for the city, he’d counted on the deaths of tens of thousands of unawakened when the chaotic mana needed to disperse, instead focusing resources on the awakened population more crucial to the defense and development of the city. The reports of banditry and raiders in the lawless lands to the southwest had been well within his expectations, and he had planned for the Central Defense defectors in the area to thin out and limit the number of refugees that would be arriving at his city’s doors. This, in turn, would give Nierburg an opportunity to stabilize its foundation and grow into the power center that it needed to be. Instead, the number of refugees seemed to be spiking, and from the reports he’d gathered, it was mainly due to the efforts of one man. How long do you plan to be a thorn in my side, Mayhew? Others might have viewed it differently, but Victor knew that the motivation was unlikely to be altruistic. No, this man had a vendetta against DeRosa and Nierburg and was planning to stuff them to bursting with worthless refugees, draining their resources and leaving them weak to an eventual attack. Truly a masterful plan, but against Victor’s superior intellect, it was a plan doomed to fail.

Activating his Communication Array, he connected with Central Administration. They’d been working on a project for him, and it was about time to put it to use. “Councilman DeRosa, sir! How can I help you?”

The image of a frail, liver-spotted old man appeared in a projection from the array, and Victor found himself irrationally angry at the image of the weak old man in front of him. “Mr. Dross, pull up the maps of the bandit activity to the southwest.” The man nodded, image fiddling with the array on his end, when the larger map overlay also began to project. Victor’s modifications to the mana network gave him a good estimate of the numbers in the camps and the relative power of the groups, with two groups notably stronger than the others. The Duilleag raiders had the strongest mana signature and stronger numbers, but they had been relatively quiet, with slow growth and no major excursions or changes that their sensors could pick up. The second, however, was a group of three awakened Central Defense defectors, with more and more of the smaller bandit groups being absorbed by the day. The three leaders had originally been acting independently but now were beginning to collaborate, likely in light of the Mayhew brat. The men were each independently powerful, but they didn’t have the eye for logistics that Victor did. He could hardly blame them, as his extensive training and exposure to six-sigma methodology made him see the world in a much more efficient light. He estimated that they would be confronted with the reality of a food shortage sooner than later, and with the hydroponics division up and running, Nierburg would have fresh produce to spare. It wouldn’t take much negotiating to have them lined up and eager to put an end to the pesky upstart and get Victor’s vision back on track. They’d need to be eliminated too, of course, but in due time.

With a smile touching the edges of his mouth, Victor spoke. “How long would it take to make contact, Mr. Dross?”

The man’s gray eyes grew distant as he thought, finally responding, “Depending on the resources you’re willing to invest, we could get a message to them in just a couple days. Likely more to negotiate terms if we want a more robust conversation.”

“See that it gets done.” With that, the old man nodded, and the Communication Array was cut off.

Gregory Valentine was in the training yard, squaring off against his three functionally awakened lieutenants. Susan was still alive after their initial confrontation with Crystal all those months ago, but her injuries prevented her from doing much other than maintaining the earthworks. With the lack of better resources at his disposal, he found her to be sufficient. Cornelius charged him with a large wooden axe, live weapons being stowed. Gregory easily sidestepped his swings, maneuvering his opponent to prevent Tucker from having a clear line of sight to take a shot. Cornelius’s proximity meant Carlyle wasn’t able to use any skills, and he stood off to the side as well, waiting for an opportunity. With a surge of mana, Gregory knocked Cornelius back as he closed the gap between himself and Carlyle, grabbing the scrawny man’s neck in a vice between his bicep and forearm. He held the smaller man between himself and Tucker as three shots rang out, the rubber bullets hitting Carlyle’s stomach with loud thuds. The young man tried to scream in pain, but the hold was too tight. Gregory knew he’d need to discipline Tucker for that later, but the thought was cut short as he felt his arm and torso begin to burn, Carlyle activating some sort of body enhancing skill. Gregory smiled as he drew his training weapons when a soldier ran to the yard. “Sir! We received an encrypted message from Mr. Flotsam, marked top priority!”

With a disappointed sigh, Valentine sheathed his practice weapons and began to head for the basement headquarters. Mr. Flotsam had been keeping them in the know about the events transpiring in Nierburg, and the plan had continued to be to wait while Nierburg handled its refugee crisis and bandit problem, only looking to take action after they’d been sufficiently weakened. For a missive to be marked top priority, something was shifting with that dynamic. One way or another, Gregory was confident that Liberation would find a way to come out on top.

Chapter 50

Kyle finished his morning stretches and made his way over to the kitchen to make something to eat. A lot had changed over the last several months, and the thing he was most thankful for was the steady stream of food supplies offered by the refugees he saved. Even though the food could still be useful in Nierburg, they all seemed glad to offer him some excess. With his alternative being eating beetle meat, he wasn’t going to argue. He had gotten into a comfortable routine at this point—it took him about a week to escort a group of people to Nierburg, and after each trip, he’d get back to his home base in Albaum to spend some time resting and training before starting the process over again.

C.H.A.D.D. flew over as he finished his cut oats and dried fruit, and they began the morning’s training. Kyle watched the projections of Garth first, carefully watching the man’s footwork and sharp movements. [NOT LIKE THAT YOU IDIOT! YOU’RE MOVING TOO FAR. COMPACT MOVEMENTS, MAYHEW!] The voice was Garth’s, but the words were a blend of dozens of different conversations over their time traveling together.

Kyle couldn’t keep the smile off his face at the sound of the familiar instruction. Just over a month into this new routine, C.H.A.D.D. had begun to incorporate recorded feedback from his trainers into their sessions. The little drone appeared to be having great fun finding new and creative ways to tell Kyle that he was still a novice martial artist, and Kyle was genuinely thankful to have the coaching. Still, a pit formed in Kyle’s stomach the more they continued to work together on it. The recording function was meant for medical histories, and that C.H.A.D.D. was able to use it in a context so far removed from the original purpose meant that its code was deteriorating.

His distraction caused him to miss some steps, and now it was Amalia’s cheerful voice playing through C.H.A.D.D.’s speakers. [YOU HAVE TO FOCUS! YOU’RE LEANING TOO FAR, KEEP YOUR SHOULDERS OVER YOUR HIPS!] The reminder was a good one, and Kyle did his best to put the concern behind him. He was going to head west tomorrow morning to find another group of refugees to escort, and he didn’t want to sacrifice his training. His efforts were beginning to bear fruit, and as he transitioned into his Escrima drills, he pulled out a long hardwood stick he’d found. It wasn’t perfectly straight and had several knots across its near-meter length. Still, it was sturdy, and it made for great practice.

As the hours wore on, Kyle’s enhanced body easily allowed him to keep pace with the training. He could have pushed himself to focus on speed, but his biggest goal right now was muscle memory. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast. The mantra played through his mind as he continued to work through the motions, C.H.A.D.D. providing cheerful feedback. Finishing his routine, he looked at the late afternoon sky. “C.H.A.D.D., can you pull up the travel records to Nierburg from epidemiology again?” If there was one thing the Central Authority was good at, it was reporting.

They kept track of the movements of all citizens to more easily respond in the case of a pandemic, though the young Healer was hoping to use the information for other purposes. The drone obliged, projecting an extended list of names. Kyle knew what he’d find–- he’d looked at this list over a dozen times. Still, he hoped there might be another political bigwig in the city, ideally somebody from Central Health. If he could just get in the good graces of somebody with enough clout to challenge the councilman, he would have an opportunity to get back in.

Any way he sliced it, DeRosa held all the influence in the city. As long as he was in charge, his chances of being welcomed into the city were nil. That also meant that C.H.A.D.D. wouldn’t be able to get the repairs it needed. Kyle didn’t know what he’d do the day the drone stopped functioning, and it was a thought that crossed his mind more and more as he saw it deviate further from its programming. Pushing that fear down, Kyle turned his thoughts to the days ahead.

Other than the chaotic mana that still coursed through the atmosphere, the biggest threat to the unawakened refugees were the raiders. Kyle had encountered several groups over the last three months, but the ones he skirmished with the most often were simply called the Skulls. He hadn’t yet fought their leader, but the group was large and led by a Central Defense defector, apparently an absolute brute of a man who used gauntlets made of the skulls of two awakened bulls from before the fall. The last time he’d encountered the raider group they’d fled on sight, but Kyle knew that he was heading for a collision course with the man. He didn’t know when, but however it played out he wanted to be ready.

He grabbed a few pieces of beetle meat from his walk-in refrigerator and tossed them on the flat iron grill to cook. He kept the heat low and settled into meditation to reflect on his progress since he’d committed to helping the refugees get to safety.

KYLE MAYHEW. ARTHRO-HUMAN CHIMERA (AWAKENED), HEALER. LEVEL 57

ADAPTIVE ANATOMY—1/?—ENHANCED CARAPACE

VITALITY: 208

ENDURANCE: 208

STRENGTH: 65

DEXTERITY: 138

WILLPOWER: 158

INTELLIGENCE: 210

PERCEPTION: 210

FREE ATTRIBUTES: 0

Kyle continued to take a balanced approach with his free attribute distribution, with the exception of Strength, which continued to lag behind. He’d considered focusing his investment to shore up this weakness but decided against it. His growing Willpower improved the amount of mana he could put into his skills, and his Intelligence helped him refine the control even further. His Perception and Dexterity both got significant boosts from Haste, and the investment in Vitality and Endurance had saved his life on multiple occasions.

Level 57… Kyle was still a little in awe of how quickly his levels had risen. It was rare to see awakened break through to Level 40 and virtually unheard of to be on the cusp of the Level 60 skill. Yet for some reason, the work Kyle did healing and protecting the refugees had allowed him to progress rapidly. Part of him had entertained the thought of crossing into D Grade like his grandfather, but he knew that was a dream for a distant future. Reflecting on his progress was a great comfort, and soon Kyle was packed and prepared for the next day’s trip.

The road was familiar to him by now, and they made great time as Kyle rushed down the roads with Haste active at its minimum boost. His body was growing more accustomed to the strain of the skill, and Regeneration reduced it even further. They arrived at what Kyle had roughly determined was the edge of Skull territory, with large swathes of shrubs and trees cleared to give them easy vision of any refugees passing through. Kyle thought this was likely the handiwork of their awakened leader and maybe even an awakened lieutenant. He let go of C.H.A.D.D., who floated up to eye level.

[SAME ORDERS AS LAST TIME, DR. MAYHEW?]

“Yes, please, C.H.A.D.D.” Without another word, the drone shot several meters into the air, scanning for any nearby groups of refugees. This was a process they’d typically repeat several times until they came across a group to escort through the hostile territory, but today, C.H.A.D.D. came zipping down with an uncharacteristic urgency.

[DR. MAYHEW, THERE IS AN INJURED MAN LESS THAN HALF A KILOMETER AWAY, AND SIGNS OF A LARGE GROUP OF HUMANS APPROACHING HIS LOCATION. HE WILL DIE SOON WITHOUT TRIAGE.]

“Take me there.”

Kyle grabbed C.H.A.D.D. in his arms, following the directions provided by his drone companion with Haste active. The first priority was getting the patient to safety. They came upon the man lying prone on the ground, an expanding pool of blood growing from his stomach. Kyle rushed to the man’s side, releasing C.H.A.D.D. Only then did he realize that something was very, very wrong.

The man was on the death’s door, but it was a face Kyle recognized. It was one of the men he’d fought months ago, the one who had threatened him and the first group of refugees he’d escorted to Nierburg. All Kyle could do was stand there, dumbstruck for a moment, as he tried to puzzle together what was happening. He was interrupted by an urgent-sounding warning from C.H.A.D.D.

[DR. MAYHEW, THE—] His companion’s words were cut off as a gun sounded, followed by the loud clank of a bullet striking metal. Kyle’s eyes widened in horror as more gunfire erupted, not focused on him but on his drone.

Chapter 51

Garth was pissed. He had spent an entire morning looking for his team, only to find out that Porter Rathman of all people had conscripted them to run an errand without his permission. Rathman had been instructed by DeRosa to inform Garth, but apparently, he’d forgotten to do so. Yeah, better chance DeRosa puts Kyle in charge of Central Authority. That had been almost a week ago, and he’d just received word that they were making their way through the front gate to the city. “Where the hell did you take my team, Rathman?”

The acid in Garth’s voice clearly took the other man by surprise, but he quickly regained his composure. “I was following orders, Boltsbury. I was on a special assignment from the councilman himself, and you’d do well to remember your station.”

“I remember mine just fine, and I also remember yours. The disgraced gatekeeper turned administrative assistant isn’t a good look. Keep your stench away from my people, Rathman. Get sick. Get injured. Go get eaten by a bug. But never, and I mean never, take my team without my say-so again. I don’t care if the thrice-damned Originators themselves told you to do it; try to pull a stunt like this again, and I’ll put you in the dirt.” The man visibly paled but continued to meet Garth’s eyes for a moment longer. Ultimately, he faltered under Garth’s withering stare and made his way into the city. Garth turned to his team, who had watched the whole interaction. From the stupid grin on Joseph’s face, it was clear that his team thought his ire was reserved for Porter. That was an assumption Garth planned to correct. Vigorously.

Several hours of brutal training later, Joseph was puking from the exertion. Mary Ellen and Johannes were both on the ground, exhausted. At first glance, he looked as rough as his squad mates, but Garth knew that Terrance held up better than he was letting on. Still something off there. Garth thought. Satisfied that the hours of physical training acted as an appropriate punishment, he dismissed his group to leave. As they left the training area to clean up, he stopped Joseph. “What was the mission, Joseph?” The pudgy man flinched at being addressed so directly before responding.

“Rathman told us not to talk about it, sir.”

“And I’m telling you to tell me what the mission was, Joseph.”

There was a moment of silence before the young man looked down. “Can I just go? I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Joseph, I’m asking you because it’s important. I’m not going to make you stay here, and I’m not going to threaten you if you don’t tell me. Just know that you’re my team, and I don’t want you getting caught up in political games with people like Porter.”

Joseph nodded in response and began to walk away. He paused at the entrance of the door and turned back to Garth. “We were delivering supplies to a group of rough looking people camped out a few days west of here. Porter said that the councilman struck some sort of deal to give food to them to leave the refugees alone.”

Joseph paused, wiping sweat from his brow before continuing, “I don’t think it was food, though. The crates we were bringing were heavy but too small to be enough food for a group that size. I… I used to work at a store. My parents always told me to have more ambition, but I honestly liked it. And I can tell you that whatever was in the crates, it wasn’t food.”

Garth walked up to the young man with a warm smile. “Thank you for telling me, Joseph. This stays with us. If anybody ever tries to take you and the others afield without me again, tell them you’re under orders to report to me first. Now go hit the showers and get some rest.”

Joseph didn’t return the smile, just turned and left. As Joseph walked away, Garth considered what he’d been told. Something here wasn’t adding up, but for now, there wasn’t much he could do with it. Garth was more bothered that his team didn’t seem to trust him. He knew he’d been hard on them, but that’s how things worked in Central Defense. He filed it away before he, too, went to grab a bite to eat before settling in for the evening.

Kyle didn’t stop to think. C.H.A.D.D. fell to the ground with a loud thump, and Kyle grabbed the drone and pulled it to his chest, curling around it protectively. He was resilient enough to handle the gunfire, he would wait for an opening, then look to—pain blossomed along his back, and in panic, he realized that these weren’t the bullets he was used to. Whatever types of rifles these bandits had, they were an order of magnitude stronger. These were weapons designed to take down awakened.

Bullets slammed into his back over and over, unable to pierce deeply enough to kill but requiring his full attention with both Heal and Regeneration to keep under control. He didn’t dare activate Haste, knowing full well that if he amplified the pain from his injuries, he’d lose control of his skills. Suddenly, mercifully, the gunfire stopped. He’d been shot no less than a dozen times, and while he was healing, he knew his back was a bloody mess.

He’d been able to shield C.H.A.D.D. from the worst of it, but he could hear the little drone sparking and sputtering as he stayed curled around it. He lay unmoving, focusing on recovery, when he heard the loud booming voice. “GET UP, YOU WORTHLESS WORM!!!” The men around him seemed to shy away from the voice, expressions of fear evident on their faces. Kyle lifted his head, and he saw a mountain of a man approaching from over a nearby hill.

He was morbidly obese, shirtless, and wearing pants that had been shredded and torn. The top of his head was bald, with greasy streaks of hair falling over his shoulders. His pallid yellow skin was covered in a sheen of grime, and on each hand was the skull of an ox. The air around each of the skulls seemed to shimmer, making the hair on the back of Kyle’s neck stand up. There was an unmistakable aura of power to the disgusting man, and Kyle had no doubt that the leader of the raiders had come out to deal with him personally. Between his injuries and trying to protect C.H.A.D.D., Kyle had no confidence in winning a straight up fight. The man stopped his approach, stopping a dozen meters away. Spittle flew out of his mouth as he resumed shouting at Kyle. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused, you little pig? How much you’ve embarrassed me and my men?” His expression changed, a sick smile twisting the corners of his mouth as his volume lowered. “Don’t worry, we won’t kill you here. I’m going to make sure that this takes a long, long time. You’re going to suffer until you beg for mercy, you’ll…” But Kyle stopped paying attention to his would-be killer as he saw something else behind the oblivious monologuer. Another form had crested the hill, revealing itself to be another huge man, dressed in black and gray mottled combat fatigues.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he charged directly down the hill toward the bandit leader, a wicked two-headed battle axe gripped in his hands. A handful of other figures began to appear on the hill, well behind the charging figure. A cry of warning went up from several of the raiders, but it was too late. The greasy bandit turned in surprise toward his new attacker, just in time to be cut cleanly in two as the axe came down.

Kyle felt the ground beneath him shake at the force of the blow and was struck with awe for a moment before regaining his bearings. He winced in pain as he tried to stand, looking for a way out. The other raiders were stunned by the sudden arrival and slow to react. Kyle looked at the man who was beelining straight in his direction. “You the Mayhew kid?!?” the mountainous man shouted.

“How do you know my name?”

“No time!” The man grabbed Kyle in his free arm and kept running, nearly knocking C.H.A.D.D. out of his arms. Gunfire erupted behind them as the remaining bandits got their bearings. He was tempted to look over his shoulder but knew that in times like these, he had to stay focused. For a moment, it looked like they’d make it out, but Kyle’s hopes were dashed as he saw a group of rough-clad men approaching from the direction of the main bandit camp.

Kyle could see that they too were outfitted with the same sleek black rifles as the others. They were taking aim at the duo, and Kyle paused as he felt the mana draw into the large man’s right arm. He dropped Kyle while shouting, “Hold onto your hat!”

Kyle had a moment of relief as he heard a quiet reply from the drone in his arms. [AS A POINT OF FACT, DR. MAYHEW ISN’T WEARING A⁠—]

For the second time today, C.H.A.D.D. was interrupted mid-sentence as the man’s arm slammed into the ground beneath them. Stones around them broke, the earth shifted, and a massive cloud of dust was kicked up at the strike, obscuring them from view. Kyle instinctively closed his eyes at the tremor, C.H.A.D.D. falling from his arms.

When he opened them, he, the bulky stranger, and the little drone were all at the center of a small crater. The toll from that technique was obvious, and the man’s large arm was clearly broken. He watched as the titan reached into his combat jacket with his good hand and pulled out a small device. “Valentine’s gonna rip me a new one for this, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Grab my arm and hold on tight.” Kyle had an endless list of questions, but he knew this wasn’t the time or place. Nodding, he grabbed the man’s good arm. The titan pressed a button on the small device, and the world around them blurred.

Chapter 52

Kyle’s senses were assaulted by a kaleidoscope of colors, shapes, and sounds. He could feel a rush of mana around them—but before he could get a better grasp of what was happening, everything stopped with a crash. Kyle felt disoriented, with a deep sense of nausea as he fought to stay standing. The man who pressed the button was in the process of getting violently ill on the ground next to him.

[DR. MAYHEW, THE PATIENT DID NOT PROVIDE ANY MEDICAL RECORDS. WHEN HE DOES, PLEASE INFORM HIM HE’S SUFFERING ILL EFFECTS FROM DISRUPTIONS OF HIS INNER EAR.]

Kyle smiled despite himself that C.H.A.D.D. was still its usual self, despite the damage that it had taken. While the man continued to retch, Kyle took a look at his long-time companion. The drone had nearly half a dozen holes punched through its hull, and the array that allowed it to float had been severely damaged. Kyle wasn’t sure if the damage was reparable, but he shoved the worry he was feeling to the back of his mind as he tried to gain his bearings.

Looking around, he saw that they were standing in what had likely been the town square of a small city. In each direction he looked, he saw an earthen wall that rose above the modest buildings that were still standing. There were multiple onlookers, all wearing the same mottled gray and black combat fatigues. He saw a blur of activity as they sprang into action. Kyle saw some of the men running toward the entrance of a squat, sturdy looking building nearby, while others ran toward the perimeter of the town.

Ultimately, Kyle didn’t see anybody acting with hostility toward him, even though a group of armed soldiers were keeping watch at a safe distance. Finally, Kyle turned his attention toward the man at his side.

Resting a hand on his arm, Kyle used Heal to work on the damaged limb. The bones were shattered, and the muscles were severely torn. Left on its own, this injury would have taken months to recover, even for an awakened. The man sat back, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his combat jacket. “You’re a bloody Healer. That’s some luck on my end,” the man said, spitting on the ground again. “Name’s Cornelius, by the way.”

Kyle didn’t look up from treating the arm, but nodded in acknowledgement. “Kyle Mayhew. Thanks for your help getting me out of that mess, it wasn’t looking good. Now hold still, I want to make sure the bones fuse properly.”

A small group had gathered around them as Kyle worked, C.H.A.D.D. helpfully providing guidance. While C.H.A.D.D.’s scanners were still functional, its projection array was damaged, only allowing for vague highlights instead of the usual high-quality visuals. “That little bugger’s worth its weight in gold,” Cornelius remarked sometime later, stretching his recovered right arm. “One less thing for Valentine to be pissed about.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, Cornelius. I think there’s still plenty.” The hard voice came from behind them, and Kyle whirled to face its source. He was staring at an old man with an athletic build, standing casually with his arms crossed. His face was like worn leather, with a large gray handlebar mustache. He wore a rapier on one hip and a dagger on the other. Cornelius scrambled to his feet and faced the man, raising his healed right arm to his head in a salute. “Sir, I meant no disrespect. When I got to Skull territory with my unit, things were getting out of control, so I had to improvise. Me and Mayhew got out safe, and I thought that would be worth the cost, sir.”

With his unit? Kyle was confused. And what does he mean by cost?

“Improvisation and using one of our most valuable resources on a gamble are two very different things, Cornelius. But that conversation can wait.” The stranger fixed his steely gaze on Kyle, who couldn’t help but flinch. “You must be Kyle Mayhew. I can’t tell you how much I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Come on, let’s get you something to eat and drink before we talk.” With that, he turned away and walked toward the door of the stout building. The whole interaction was surreal to Kyle, and before he knew it, he was walking through the door behind the old man.

They walked in silence down some stairs and through austere halls, and Kyle felt an odd sense of déjà vu. I know I’ve never been here, but this whole thing feels too familiar. Before he could continue his thought, they arrived at a large conference room. The old man walked across to a nearby desk and settled in, gesturing for Kyle to sit across from him. Kyle did, and barely a moment later, a young man came with glasses of water and a plate that carried a sandwich on rough, crusty bread. Kyle’s mouth watered as he looked at the piled meat and cheese on the bread, but he held himself back.

“You know, you don’t have to keep carrying that thing.” The man’s words interrupted Kyle from his sandwich-induced daydream, and he realized with a start that he was still holding onto C.H.A.D.D. It almost felt wrong to put the drone down, but the temptation was too strong. He set the drone on the chair next to him and began to dig into the food.

It had been so long since he’d had real food, and it nearly brought a tear to his eyes. Something as simple as a sandwich felt so… normal. In a moment of horror, he realized he had started eating without a thought, but when he looked up at his host, he saw the other man tearing into his food with equal gusto. Hunger won out once again as he turned his attention back to his plate.

Only once both sandwiches were devoured did their eyes meet, and the older man broke the silence. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, Kyle, and I’ll do my best to answer them. Like the meathead who brought you here said, my name is Gregory Valentine. As I’m sure you surmised, I’m in charge here. And because I don’t do the political garbage, I’ll be up front with it. I’ve heard about you, and I want you to work for me. There are plenty of details to figure out, but I know there’s room for an awakened like you in my inner circle. That said, what do you want to know?”

Kyle physically rocked back, not expecting the conversation to take this sort of turn. Valentine stared at him with expectant eyes, and looking at the man’s scarred face, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his grandfather.

[DR. MAYHEW, GREGORY VALENTINE IS ON A LIST INELIGIBLE FOR TREATMENT BY CENTRAL AUTHORITY EDICT. BE ADVISED THAT PROVIDING MEDICAL SERVICES OR RECORDS TO THIS INDIVIDUAL IS PUNISHABLE BY DISCIPLINARY ACTION AND POSSIBLE FORFEITURE OF YOUR MEDICAL LICENSE.]

C.H.A.D.D.’s outburst startled both men, and to Kyle’s surprise, Valentine burst out laughing. He continued to laugh for over a minute, finally getting control of himself as he wiped the tears off his cheeks. “It’s the end of the world, and Central Health is threatening to fire you for talking to me. That’s a riot! Though I suppose that’s also probably where we should start, even though you didn’t ask the question. Your little friend there is correct—working with me will put you on the Central Authority’s deviant list, although from what I understand, you’re on it already.” Valentine’s grin faded, steel entering his eyes as he continued. “Those bastards are rotten to the core. You and I both know it, and so did your grandfather.”

Kyle felt his mouth go dry at the mention of Clark. “You knew my grandpa?” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“I did. Had the pleasure of serving with him for the last five years he was active. With you being out here alone, I take it he didn’t make it?”

“No. He died saving me.” The guilt wasn’t as strong as before, but Kyle still felt it stab as he made the admission. Valentine grunted before turning away, reaching into a drawer. He pulled out two glasses and a bottle of caramel-colored liquor. He poured a generous splash into both cups and passed one to Kyle.

“To Clark Mayhew, the best man I ever knew. The world is darker for his loss.” Kyle toasted and drank, the scotch burning all the way down.

Chapter 53

“Tell me more about your time with my grandfather,” Kyle said. Valentine poured himself another glass of scotch and took a long drink before responding.

“He was my commanding officer. My opinion is that he should have been running the whole damn Central Authority, but instead they had Clark leading beast suppression teams. In the early days, it made sense to have that kind of power out in the field, but by the time I joined his squad, it had been over twenty years since a mid or upper E Grade beast had been spotted.” Valentine got a faraway look in his eyes, and Kyle wondered what kind of memory he was experiencing.

“He still took the job seriously. He had us train hard every day, and no matter how simple the extermination was, he made sure that we were clean and efficient. It’s funny. People always assumed that our unit was effective because Clark was out handling the monsters. The reality was that we were successful because he made us put in the work. In the five years we had in the field together, he only ever had to step in once or twice to save our hides.”

With a smile, Kyle responded, “That sounds like him. Grandpa was always trying to bring out the best in everybody. I’m glad I met someone who worked with him before he retired. By the time I came along, he’d been living the civilian life for years.”

At that, Valentine snorted. “He didn’t retire, he was pushed out. His methods didn’t mesh well with the Central Authority, that’s why he was left on the outside. Sure, they paid lip service to everything he’d done, but by this time, they’d forgotten what the world was like before. They’d lost sight of how fragile their peace was. Clark didn’t. He made sure we were prepared. He let us choose our skills, he let us develop in the ways we wanted to, because that’s how the Originators did it.” The man’s eyes lit up as fire entered his voice, growing more passionate by the word.

“Those morons in Administration finally picked up on our levels and relative skills and tried to put a stop to us. Clark shielded us from the worst of it by resigning, but the old group still got split up. As the years wore on, more and more of us ended up dead. Can’t prove it, but I think that bastard DeRosa may have had something to do with it—it was his work in Administration that brought this up in the first place. I knew the writing was on the wall for me when he got promoted, so I got out. Went underground with some other like-minded awakened after paying a visit to your grandfather. I wouldn’t have made it this long without the advice he’d given me back then.”

Kyle sat in silence, digesting everything he’d just learned. It was no secret that his grandfather’s opinions had landed him in hot water a time or two, but what this man was involved in was a full-blown insurrection. Valentine’s eyes had a faraway look again, and from what Kyle could tell, he had no reason to lie. Still, he wasn’t naïve enough to take all this at face value. The man was up front enough that he wanted Kyle to work for him, but that didn’t mean he was being forthcoming about everything.

“Thank you for sharing those stories. I have to ask though—what are you doing now? It looks like you and your group have done a good job establishing a settlement and have things well in order. I’m honestly not sure how much I could help beyond what you’ve already accomplished.”

“Can you ever have enough Healers on staff?”

“No, you can’t. Except you and your organization had no idea I was a Healer until I showed up here with Cornelius.”

“Damn, got me there.” Valentine chuckled, then continued, “Truth be told, I’m looking for other awakened who have good reasons to be disenfranchised from the Central Authority. We had nothing to do with this disaster, but it created opportunities we’d be fools to ignore.”

“What kind of opportunities?”

“Opportunities to get out from under the thumb of the Central Authority. Opportunities for people like us to push the boundaries of our own development. Opportunities to create paths all our own. That’s what Liberation has always stood for.”

Kyle had to admit that the idea was appealing. He’d been rejected wholesale by the Central Authority in Nierburg, and even after all these months of helping refugees, they still had made no effort to even open up a line of discussion. Moreover, with C.H.A.D.D.’s condition deteriorating, having access to more resources and technicians would help his companion significantly. Kyle knew he was out of his depth to try and repair the damaged arrays, much less recover the aspects of his code that had been damaged.

He was about to ask another question when the door to the room burst open, and a stocky man burst through wearing what Kyle now identified as the Liberation uniform. “Mr. Valentine, sir!”

Gregory looked up and met the man’s eyes. There was a cold intensity to his voice when he spoke. “I asked not to be disturbed while I was with our guest. This had better be important.” Kyle found himself shivering at the tone. It wasn’t loud, it wasn’t a blustering threat, but it carried with it the promise of violence if the answer was found wanting.

The new arrival clearly thought so as well, as Kyle could see him visibly sweating as he stammered out his next words. “Yes, sir, Mr. Valentine, sir. Uh… It’s Tucker’s group; they were on their way to support Cornelius’s squad, and they found bodies. They reported that there didn’t appear to be any survivors from the excursion, sir, and Tucker wanted to make sure you knew.” There was a moment of silence as the man gulped, and almost as an afterthought, he added, “Sir.”

Valentine stood up as he turned his gaze to Kyle. “Sorry you had to hear all that, son. Unfortunately, this is a mess that’s going to need some of my attention before it gets worse. If you’d be willing to indulge me, there’s somebody else I’d like you to meet. She’s one of the other awakened here, though she’s been struggling with an injury she’d received months ago. If there’s anything you can do for her while I sort this out, I’d count it a favor.”

Kyle nodded slowly as the pieces started falling into place. So Cornelius did have soldiers with him, and it sounds like they didn’t make it. No wonder Valentine is so upset with him. Kyle’s thoughts were cut short as Valentine barked at the man. “Tell Tucker to hold his position. I’m on my way to clean this up personally.” With that, Gregory Valentine strode out of the room. The stocky man who was frozen in place let out a deep exhale and turned to Kyle. “Come on, Susan’s room is this way.”

Opening the door, the scent hit him like a physical blow. Kyle was shocked at the sight. The woman lying in the bed was unconscious and pale, with sweat covering her brow. Her frame was skeletal, and most notably, her right leg was missing a few inches above where her knee should be. He saw fresh blood soaking through the bandages, and he held C.H.A.D.D. up to get a better understanding of what was going on.

[DR. MAYHEW, IT APPEARS THAT THE INJURY WAS CAUTERIZED, BUT NOT BEFORE THE BEGINNING OF AN INFECTION. AT THIS POINT, THE INFECTION HAS SPREAD THROUGHOUT THE BODY—PROGNOSIS WITHOUT TREATMENT IS LIKELY DAYS AT MOST.]

Kyle nodded in understanding as he began to remove the bandages. He finally got to the burned flesh beneath, and he could tell that whoever had cauterized this didn’t do it with any sort of professional tools or precision. He sighed as he went to wash up. This is why people without medical training shouldn’t attempt things like that. Looks like they nearly burned off her whole leg.

Returning to his patient’s bedside, he instinctively began to ask C.H.A.D.D. to project a scan of the patient with the infection highlighted. He stopped before the words got out and thought better of it. Without C.H.A.D.D.’s ability to show him scans of where the infection was most prevalent, he wouldn’t be able to treat nearly as efficiently. Fortunately, efficiency doesn’t mean nearly as much as it used to, Kyle thought bitterly.

The massive growth he’d experienced meant that he could move larger amounts of mana with less strain—and in a case like this one he could run mana through the patient’s entire body without a significant risk of draining himself. He was about to lay his hands on the burned stump, when a nagging thought came back to the forefront. Pulling his hands back, he turned to his silent chaperone. “This injury wasn’t caused by beetles or any other type of wildlife. What happened to her?”

The man seemed almost startled at the question, and for a moment, Kyle wasn’t sure if he’d answer. “Sorry, sir, didn’t expect you’d have any questions I could help with. She lost her leg when we took the town, cut clean off by one of the awakened defending it. Thought they got it cauterized in time, but she’s been getting worse every day.”

A pit formed in Kyle’s stomach as he started to place the déjà vu he felt before. Trying to act nonchalant, he asked, “Does this town have a name?”

“Duilleag, sir.”

Chapter 54

Duilleag. Kyle felt his pulse quicken as the realization hit him. This was where Garth’s friends had died, where he’d been betrayed. And these were the bastards who did it. If Garth’s stories about Crystal and her skills were accurate, Kyle had no doubt that she’d have been able to shear off a leg like this. Puzzle pieces clicked together one after another, but he did his best to suppress them. He was in the belly of the beast, and panicking here could get him killed. Turning back to the patient on the bed, his mind was racing. Maybe I can⁠—

[DR. MAYHEW, YOU MAY NOT REMEMBER, BUT GARTH AND THE OTHERS IN HIS GROUP CAME FROM DUILLEAG. SIR, DO YOU HAVE ACCESS TO ANY OF THE MEDICAL RECORDS FOR GARTH BOLTSBURY? GET SOMETHING TO WRITE WITH, I’LL GIVE YOU A LIST OF THE RECORDS WE’LL BE NEEDING.]

Kyle looked at the drone in horror, then up at the widening eyes of the other man in the room. His mouth was agape, and he turned suddenly toward the door. Dammit. Kyle made his decision, and after a quick burst of speed, Kyle had his arm around the man’s neck in a choke hold, holding tight until the man stopped struggling.

[DR. MAYHEW, HE WON’T BE ABLE TO GET THE RECORDS IF HE’S UNCONSCIOUS.]

“C.H.A.D.D., I don’t think he was going to get the medical records. We need to go.”

[WHAT ABOUT THE PATIENT?]

Kyle stopped to consider that question. If this had been before the cataclysm, he wouldn’t have thought twice. Now, he thought about Garth. He remembered well the haunted look in his friend’s eyes as he recounted the story and the pain present when he remembered the loss of the person he loved. Something cold and cruel stirred inside Kyle. I’m not letting another monster get up to commit more atrocities.

“Not my problem. If these people are who I think, she deserves whatever’s coming to her.” With that, Kyle held C.H.A.D.D. under his arm and walked through the hallways and back up the stairs. As he emerged from the repurposed supply depot, he noted the frantic energy in the town had ratcheted up a notch. He hoped he’d be able to slip out amidst the hustle and bustle, but that hope was dashed as he heard the voice bellow out toward him. “Mayhew, where you headed? I owe you a beer at the very least. It'll be a while before Valentine comes back.” The hulking form of Cornelius walked over, the same cavalier grin on his face.

“Cornelius, I’m surprised you’re still here and smiling given the news that your men are dead. I was in the room when Valentine found out and took off. I thought you’d want to go with him,” Kyle said, hoping the man would take the hint and walk away.

Cornelius snorted. “A handful of unawakened soldiers to get you on our side was a gamble worth taking. It paid off, didn’t’ it? We both got out, added a Healer to Liberation, and when it’s all said and done, we’ll have our hands on some real weaponry too. Those rifles were something else; I know Valentine’ll put them to good use.”

The nervous fear Kyle felt was quickly replaced by anger at Cornelius’s attitude toward the men who died, and he couldn’t hold his tongue. “You got out, and you might well get some weapons out of the deal. But I’m not joining your group, and I’m not staying. I know what you did here. And I refuse to have a part in any of it. Go rot in hell.”

“What do you mean you’re not staying? Don’t’ you get it? You don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’d rather be on my own than with you.” Kyle’s voice was sharp as he met Cornelius’s eyes. The other man’s response came out in a growl. “Those men were a good trade for another awakened. I’m not going to just let you walk away and leave me with nothing.”

Kyle activated Haste just in time to dodge a haymaker, which was much faster than Kyle anticipated. He took two quick steps backward to create some distance, but the large man followed. “You’re a coward, Mayhew.” His growl turned into a roar as he threw another wild punch, mana infusing his limbs. “If you’re going to tell me to rot in hell, at least have the stones to try and send me there yourself!”

His strikes were sloppy and relatively easy to dodge, but Kyle knew that the destructive power behind each was enough to do major damage, if not kill him outright. The smart play was to run. Holding C.H.A.D.D. kept him from using his left arm, and even if he had both hands free, Kyle wasn’t confident he’d be able to finish the fight decisively. On the other hand, he was furious. The anger he’d been harboring these past few months was boiling over. These monsters were worse than any wild beast—and Kyle was done with it.

Dodging another wide swing, Kyle stepped around and punched the larger man in the ribs with his free right hand. It felt like punching a block of concrete, and he saw Cornelius grin as he stepped away. “Gonna take a lot more than that. You know, I wasn’t a big fan of the idea but Valentine insisted. He has a soft spot for lost puppies like you, but I knew the moment I laid eyes on you that you were weak. You couldn’t handle Carlyle, and you most certainly can’t handle me.”

With that last sentence, Kyle realized his mistake. Mana had continued to build in Cornelius’s body, and he released it all now in an omnidirectional blast. Kyle found himself thrown off his feet, and the crowd that had begun to gather scattered instantly. He barely had time to react as a booted foot crashed into the ground where his head would have been, and for the second time this day Kyle found himself in a position where his life was in danger.

He wanted to scream with frustration. He felt so powerless, but this wasn’t the time. Springing to his feet with Haste fully active, Kyle darted toward the edge of the town. “You really are a coward, aren’t you?” It was a different voice this time, and Kyle whirled to see a familiar man keeping pace to his left, a shimmering haze surrounding him. “You could have chased me down back then, but you didn’t. And now you’re running away. Again.” Carlyle paused, a faraway look on his face. “I should kill you for all you and Boltsbury cost me, but the mess you just made for that oaf is almost enough for me to forgive you. So, I’ll leave you this message: stay the hell away from us. Every time you show up, you ruin everything. So go far, far away from here, and never let me see your face again, coward.” With that, the shimmer faded, and Carlyle stopped pursuing him.

Kyle kept an eye on the figure as he retreated, and from what he could tell, Carlyle had simply turned back toward Duilleag. Kyle continued to run in silence as the light faded, furiously working through everything that had happened over the past day. He had been in two situations that easily could have ended with his death. He met somebody who claimed to be close to his grandfather, and it turned out they were the same people responsible for taking over Duilleag. C.H.A.D.D., his longest companion in this new world, was damaged.

These thoughts were overwhelming, and Kyle realized with a start that he had lost track of where he was going. How long have I been running? He honestly had no idea, and he forced himself to deactivate Haste and stop. Based on the dull ache across his body, he had been running with his skill for at least two hours, but as the last vestiges of light faded on the horizon, he knew the most important thing was to find somewhere to rest. He knew that if he kept pushing, nothing good would happen. “C.H.A.D.D., do you have any idea where we are?”

[NONE WHATSOEVER, DR. MAYHEW.]

“Do you at least know which direction we were running?”

[NO, DR. MAYHEW. THE ACTIVATION OF A TRANSPORT ARRAY SCRAMBLED RELATIVE GEOGRAPHY, AND WITHOUT CONNECTING TO THE MANA NETWORK, I AM UNABLE TO RECALIBRATE.]

“What the hell is a transport array?”

[CLASSIFIED. DETAILS ARE UNCLEAR, I APOLOGIZE, DR. MAYHEW.]

“Have your sensors picked up any people nearby?”

[NOTHING MEANINGFUL TO REPORT AT THIS TIME, DR. MAYHEW.]

Well, crap. Kyle hadn’t realized how much he’d relied on the drone, but these new limitations on C.H.A.D.D.’s function were finally sinking in. He would have to figure out how to make do. He took a look around as darkness continued to fall, looking at the broken trees and rocks that littered the ground. They were in the middle of a forested area, which he’d initially thought was the same forest that surrounded Nierburg. Now that he really looked at it, the destruction here was much more significant. Wherever he’d run, he was in new territory.

Walking at a normal pace to allow Regeneration to soothe his battered body, he collected tree limbs and leaned them against a large stone nearby. Settling into the primitive shelter, Kyle took a long pull from his canteen as he let his mind return to the events of the day. He knew how closely he’d cut it today, and he knew that something needed to change. If he were stronger, if he’d planned better, things would have played out very differently.

[DR. MAYHEW, SOMETHING INTERESTING APPEARED ON A SCAN.]

“Are we in danger, C.H.A.D.D.?”

[NOT IMMEDIATELY, DR. MAYHEW.]

“What did you pick up? I’m not sure if I can handle giant-sized birds.”

[INDETERMINABLE. BUT THERE IS A FAINT MANA SIGNATURE COMING FROM BELOW US, GIVING OFF THE SAME FLUCTUATIONS THAT YOU DO.]

The same as me. Kyle kept going back to that thought; everything else, was momentarily pushed from his mind. “What do you mean, C.H.A.D.D.? You’re saying I’m giving off fluctuations; what are they?”

[EVER SINCE WE FOUND YOU UNCONSCIOUS IN ALBAUM, YOU HAVE BEEN EMITTING FAINT PULSES OF MANA. IS IT SAFE TO ASSUME YOU ARE NOT DOING THIS INTENTIONALLY?]

“Definitely not.”

[THEN YOU SHOULD FIGURE OUT HOW TO STOP THEM INTENTIONALLY, DR. MAYHEW. THEY ARE QUITE NOTICEABLE.]

Kyle frowned, closing his eyes and focusing on his center. Despite all the other changes after killing the fly, nothing seemed to have changed with the way his mana flowed through his body. It flowed more powerfully, but it wasn’t a change from what it had been before. In fact, the only material change he could think of was back when he’d first noticed the metamorphosis to his Arthro-Human Chimera race. At that time, he’d noticed the mana in his body pulsed in the same rhythm he felt from the chaotic energy brought by the calamity. Focusing more intently, he started to track the cadence of the pulses, lightly tapping on C.H.A.D.D.’s damaged hull as he felt the energy ebb and flow. “Is this the timing you’re noticing?”

[YES, DR. MAYHEW. I AM NOT ABLE TO DETECT THE SOURCE OF THE OTHER PULSES, BUT SOMETHING NEARBY IS GIVING OFF THE EXACT SAME FLUCTUATION.]

Kyle nodded, slowly putting the pieces together. Whatever had changed him had also changed the world, and he knew that whatever it was that C.H.A.D.D. had detected was related. It might even help provide answers to what had been happening. Still, after everything he’d been through today, Kyle wasn’t going to rush in blind. He also wasn’t about to leave secrets undiscovered. First rest, then we’re going in there. “C.H.A.D.D., if you feel the source of the pulses getting closer, wake me up. If you lose track of them, do the same. We’ve got a couple things to do first, but then we’re going to figure out what’s going on.”

Chapter 55

Kyle woke to the light of dawn, stretching as he rose. C.H.A.D.D. had remained silent through the course of the night, which made him sigh in relief. He had been concerned that whatever was giving off those signals would have left during the night and that they wouldn’t be able to track it down. Stepping out of the primitive shelter with his companion tucked under one arm and a stick in the other, he began to walk. C.H.A.D.D. was convinced the source of the fluctuations was below them, but Kyle first wanted to narrow down the effective range on the surface.

He walked until C.H.A.D.D. lost track of the signal, then would change course to establish his perimeter. When all was said and done, they had marked out a circle with a roughly two-hundred-meter radius. Satisfied that he had a good grasp of the ground they would need to cover, Kyle and C.H.A.D.D. systematically walked from one edge of the circle to another, Kyle looking for physical indications while the drone tracked the intensity of the pulses.

During their walk, Kyle was also paying closer attention to the mana in his body. Now that C.H.A.D.D. had brought it to his attention, Kyle thought he could faintly feel small amounts of mana leaving his body as it pulsed. It was miniscule—easily replaced by his natural generation of energy, but it was there. As they searched the area, Kyle tried to control the flow of his mana to prevent the leak and was surprised by just how difficult the task was.

He was used to controlling the energy when he activated his skills, but trying to manipulate the passive flow was an order of magnitude more challenging. It was like trying to change the way that blood was moving through his veins. He could maintain an awareness of the mana moving through his pathways and manipulate it without using a skill required equal attention all the way across his system, particularly if he wanted to localize an effect. Even with the added control his Intelligence attribute gave him, it was still a task that was proving beyond him.

He would have to focus on accelerating the flow of mana in one part of his body while intentionally maintaining the flow elsewhere. He couldn’t help but smile at the challenge. This felt like the next extension of the work he’d been doing to more tightly regulate the energy he used when Haste was active, and he had a gut feeling that these exercises were two sides of the same coin.

He was broken out of his contemplation as he came across a small mound about halfway through their sweep of the area. There was a fallen tree along one side, but Kyle could see the entrance to a cave beyond. “Are you still picking up the signatures from below?”

[YES, DR. MAYHEW.]

“That’s all I needed to hear. Thanks, C.H.A.D.D.” With that, Kyle began to work on clearing the entrance. Pulling the log away was much easier than he’d thought, and he had to marvel at the progress he’d experienced. Even without investing in Strength, it’s incredible what a difference these levels have made. By virtue of being awakened, Kyle had been strong, but when confronted with other awakened warriors, it was easy to lose sight of how large the gap had grown between himself and a regular unawakened person.

The cave entrance was tight, though as he peered in he saw that it opened into a larger network of tunnels beyond. Walking inside, he looked at the drone in his arms. “Any chance you’d be able to give a little light here?” The drone sputtered as it projected out a gentle orange glow around them. “Thanks buddy. Let me know when we’re getting close. If it looks like it could turn into a nasty fight, I might have to set you aside to keep the lights on for me; are you okay with that.”

[HAPPY TO HELP, DR. MAYHEW. SO LONG AS YOU REMEMBER TO PICK ME UP AFTERWARD.]

The cave network was extensive. Kyle was relieved that there weren’t too many branching paths. The ones they encountered typically led to empty, larger chambers, making it easy to retrace their steps and progress further through the labyrinth of tunnels. One of the chambers had a small pool of water trickling down from a crack above and flowing into another below. From what C.H.A.D.D. could tell, it was clean, and Kyle drank his fill, topping off his drained canteen as well. The drone told him that the intensity of the pulses had been growing increasingly potent and as the hours wore on, Kyle could begin to feel them himself.

Changes in the cave itself also contributed to Kyle’s growing sense of unease. At the entrance, they were mostly walking in tunnels of light stone and reddish-brown clay, but the deeper they explored, the more they encountered entire sections that were littered with dark, smooth chips. These segments were becoming more and more common as they continued, the pulses progressively growing stronger. Finally, they turned a corner and saw the tunnel open into a much larger chamber.

In the center was a large, gently glowing beetle, unlike any Kyle had seen before. It was facing them, mandibles chewing on the remains of one of the larger beetles Kyle had grown used to fighting above. It was covered in crimson chitin, its head and thorax standing just over a meter off the ground. It had no discernible eyes that Kyle could see, but it did have two long, segmented antennae that were constantly bobbing up and down. Six elegant legs supported its most bizarre feature—a massive abdomen that was twice as thick as the creature’s head, with two large spikes jutting from the front of the abdomen all the way to the base of the head. The rest of the abdomen was bulbous and completely smooth, with a pattern of glowing runes running across its surface, forming a series of five connected circles.

It looked incredibly out of place compared to the rest of the sleek body, but it was the source of the pulsing mana exuding from the creature, and a familiar feeling started to come over Kyle the longer he watched it. Just like with the fly, something primal told Kyle that this creature was an enemy. He resisted the urge to burst into the chamber and attack the creature, which was harder than he thought it would be. That gave him pause, though before he had a chance to consider his reaction further, the creature raised its head in Kyle’s direction as its antennae went wild. Its mandibles opened, and it issued an ear-splitting screech.

The sound startled Kyle for a moment, and his eyes widened as he saw the ground beetle raise its abdomen perpendicular to the ground, the glow of the circular patterns intensifying. Crap. That was the only thought he had time for as he dove out of the mouth of the tunnel. Each of the circles shot a beam of heat energy into the space where he’d been standing, and Kyle looked back to see the stone glowing from the attack.

[DR. MAYHEW, MAY I ASK A FAVOR?] C.H.A.D.D. asked as Kyle dodged another volley of heat blasts.

“Kind of busy here, C.H.A.D.D.”

[I’D LIKE TO REVOKE MY CONSENT TO BE PUT DOWN. THAT SEEMS INCREDIBLY UNSAFE GIVEN THE CURRENT CIRCUMSTANCES.]

Kyle was inclined to agree as he dodged a third set of attacks, but each time he dodged, he was closing the distance between himself and the beetle. Two more, and I’ll be close enough to strike. Kyle’s plan was simple: get used to the timing of the attacks, get closer between them, and then attack the creature from inside its range to put it down.

It was a solid plan, but Kyle realized that he’d made a critical error. Similar to the fly, this ground beetle had intelligence beyond what Kyle had seen in the other mutated creatures. Seeming to notice that its attacks were ineffective, the monstrous beetle screeched once more and began to run into a tunnel on the opposite side of the chamber. Kyle took a step to pursue before he realized his error. Now that he was standing directly behind the beetle in this narrower tunnel, all five of the arrays on its abdomen were now pointing directly behind the creature. Directly at the man who was in hot pursuit.

Chapter 56

Kyle saw the circles glow with mana and knew he had nowhere to run in the confines of the narrow tunnel. Gritting his teeth as he activated Haste, Kyle sprinted for the exit of the tunnel. He felt a searing pain across his legs as he dove to the side, too slow to fully escape the blast. He screamed in pain as he deactivated his skill, already focusing his mana into Heal and Regeneration. Kyle set C.H.A.D.D. down next to him before looking at his legs, and he was surprised at the precision of the burns. The areas that had been struck directly had been damaged heavily, but outside of where he’d been hit, there was unblemished skin.

He thought back to when he’d taken Carlyle’s Fireball head on. If Carlyle had been able to focus his mana the way this beetle did, Kyle likely would have died. A direct shot to the head or the heart against an attack like this wouldn’t give him the time to recover, a reminder of the danger he was in. He shuddered as he considered that, a cold shiver of fear running down his back. This isn’t the time, Kyle. Back to the task at hand. Fortunately, he could feel that the pulses weren’t coming closer at the moment. The beetle didn’t seem eager to come back out into the more open chamber, and Kyle couldn’t blame it. It had just been attacked by an intruder, and it likely didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks either. While that gave him time to recover, it also gave him space to start forming a plan. As he continued to heal, he turned to C.H.A.D.D. “What did your scans tell you about this thing?”

[IT IS AN INTERESTING ORGANISM. AMBIENT MANA IS EFFICIENTLY DRAWN INTO THE ARRAY BEFORE BEING EXPELLED.]

Kyle nodded as he took that in. He’d experienced it too—the beetle was able to fire far more often than he’d expected for a technique with that kind of offensive power. Kyle wasn’t an array technician by any means, but he knew that powerful systems were typically much easier to break than build. The damage C.H.A.D.D. had taken was a perfect example. Still, he knew he needed to get more information before planning the rest of his moves. He’d more than learned the consequences of moving forward without a plan, and that wasn’t a mistake he was going to make again. “Were you able to get any information on its shell? Did you note any weak points like we saw with the ant?”

[SCANS INDICATED THE LAYER OF CHITIN WAS CONSISTENT ACROSS THE BODY OF THE INSECT, DR. MAYHEW, WITH THE EXCEPTION OF THE JOINTS. AS COMPARED TO THE ANT, THE LAYER OF CHITIN APPEARS TO BE ROUGHLY 60% THINNER.]

The healing work on his legs complete, Kyle stood up. The plan was forming in his mind, and looking at the ground at the mouth of the tunnel, the final pieces started to fall into place. The residual heat from the attacks warmed the otherwise cool cave air as he walked over. He carefully reached over, pulling up a cracked shard of earth. The beetle was responsible for the patches of cracked earth; it literally fired the clay when its blasts hit the soft dirt.

Tossing the fist-sized shard in his hand, he tested its weight. It wasn’t particularly heavy or durable, but for what Kyle was thinking, it would probably work. Kyle closed his eyes and took a deep breath. You can do this. When his eyes opened, the soft glow of Haste suffused the room. He stepped into the mouth of the tunnel, sensing that the beetle hadn’t moved. It responded nearly instantly, beams of heat streaming down the open passage. Kyle’s enhanced Perception in this state allowed him to see the twisting mana in the air compressing into the flowing circles, and he lined up his shot.

The shard of clay left his hand and hurled down the hallway toward the creature’s exposed abdomen, but the strike missed the array he was aiming for—instead, the hardened clay crumbled against the chitin to the left with an audible thump. Kyle was out of the line of fire as quickly as he’d appeared, though he still felt the heat from the passing beams. Grabbing another piece of freshly fired clay, Kyle prepared to try again.

This process repeated itself over the course of nearly an hour, and the only thing Kyle had to show for it was a set of nasty burns on his right forearm and shoulder and a nickname for the damn bug. They’d taken to calling the creature the “Infernal.” Kyle was sitting next to C.H.A.D.D. as he treated his fresh injuries, grumbling under his breath. “It’s just not fair. This stupid thing isn’t even looking, and it still knows exactly when to shoot at me. Damn bug has eyes in the back of its head.”

[AS A POINT OF FACT, DR. MAYHEW, IT DOESN’T. SCANS REVEALED NO OCULAR ORGANS OF ANY TYPE.]

“Thanks for that, C.H.A.D.D. Either way, it has some way to know when I’m stepping into the mouth of the tunnel. I know I can kill it if I can get close, but the clay just isn’t hard enough to do any real damage to stop it from firing.”

[OR, DR. MAYHEW, YOU AREN’T HITTING THE ARRAYS IN THE CORRECT LOCATIONS.]

Kyle wanted to argue with the drone, but C.H.A.D.D. made a fair point with that one. In the dozen or so attempts he’d made, he’d only struck one of the arrays squarely twice. The theory was a good one, but his projectiles just weren’t quite up to snuff. The clay wasn’t durable enough to hold its shape and transfer the force when it hit the chitin. He was interrupted as his drone companion continued.

[FURTHERMORE, DR. MAYHEW, IT’S QUITE CLEAR HOW IT KNOWS WHEN YOU’RE GETTING CLOSE. I TOLD YOU YOUR PULSES WERE EASY TO DETECT.]

“It’s a lot harder to fix than it sounds, C.H.A.D.D.”

[SO IS INTERNAL MEDICINE. SO IS SURGERY. DID YOU QUIT THOSE BECAUSE THEY WERE ‘HARDER THAN THEY SOUNDED?’]

Kyle sighed in exasperation. “It’s not the same thing, C.H.A.D.D. We don’t have time for me to try to figure things like that out.”

[WHY DON’T WE, DR. MAYHEW?]

“Because…” Kyle trailed off. Because you’re on a timer, C.H.A.D.D. Because I don’t want you to get damaged anymore. Because I don’t want to be alone out here. Those were the words he wanted to say—that he knew he should say—but he couldn’t bring himself to say them. “Because we don’t have food. I’m running low on water. And there are people out there who still need our help.”

[DR. MAYHEW, IN ANY EMERGENCY SITUATION THE FIRST PRIORITY IS ALWAYS TO SECURE YOUR SAFETY BEFORE PRIORITIZING THE SAFETY OF OTHERS. YOU HAVE A SOURCE FOR CLEAN DRINKING WATER IN THE CHAMBER WE FOUND EARLIER. AND THE FOOD SITUATION WILL RESOLVE ITSELF SHORTLY.]

“And how is that, C.H.A.D.D.? In case you haven’t noticed, we’re a long way from Albaum. And I don’t think the Infernal is just going to let us kill it and eat it any time soon.”

[CERTAINLY NOT, DR. MAYHEW. BUT THE OTHER BEETLES THAT WILL BE ENTERING THIS CHAMBER SHORTLY SHOULD BE WELL WITHIN YOUR ABILITY TO HANDLE.]

Kyle’s jaw dropped as he saw a group of three beetles enter through the same tunnel he and C.H.A.D.D. had come through, and now that he thought about it, he’d seen the Infernal eating a beetle when they’d first walked into the chamber. He stood to meet the newcomers, and in moments, there were three dead beetles. They were no real threat to him, and Kyle reflected once more on how much he’d grown since his grandfather died. And still, it isn’t enough.

Bitterly, he thought about what his weakness had cost him. C.H.A.D.D. was damaged, and people had died. The drone was right. He had to make sure he was taking care of his own affairs before trying to change things for everybody else. He couldn’t help anybody if he was dead. Still, there was the food situation to figure out. Kyle lifted one of the dead beetles up by its leg, glancing down the tunnel where the Infernal still rested. Stepping into the mouth of the tunnel, he quickly stepped aside as a blast of heat was sent his way. Looking at the dead beetle in his hand, he groaned. “These things taste even worse than normal if they’re overcooked, C.H.A.D.D. And I know they’re going to be way overdone.”

Chapter 57

Kyle woke with a yawn, stretching as he stood. Without sunlight, it was easy to lose track of time, though C.H.A.D.D. cheerfully reminded him of the time they’d spent in the cave system doing this training regimen. Four weeks already, Kyle mused, still astonished at how fast it had all flown by. His level had climbed to 59 through the weeks of practice, and he’d fallen into a comfortable rhythm. Completing his stretches, he picked C.H.A.D.D. up to go drink some fresh water and clean up, chewing overcooked beetle meat as he walked. The drone had proved invaluable over the course of the first two weeks, keeping Kyle apprised of the Infernal’s movements.

The mutated creature had tried to get close a couple of times, but after a particularly close call when Kyle nearly smashed its legs, it seemed to understand that walking into an open chamber would be a death sentence. Since then, it had kept to the narrower tunnels. Kyle had wondered if it would starve to death back there, but from what C.H.A.D.D. could tell, it was still in fine condition.

The drone had continued to scan the creature since they’d been in the cavern, and from what it could tell, the Infernal hadn’t experienced any meaningful changes since they’d encountered it. By contrast, the changes Kyle had gone through were noticeable—significantly improved mana control chief among them. The scans had revealed something interesting, though, and Kyle had been eager to test his hypothesis. For some reason, C.H.A.D.D. wasn’t able to get detailed scans of the creature’s abdomen. Something about the chitin there prevented mana from penetrating as effectively, and if it could limit C.H.A.D.D.’s sensors, it just might be able to act as a filter for some of the ambient mana that was causing gradual wear and tear on his companion.

After cleaning up, Kyle got to work on his morning routines, with C.H.A.D.D. gleefully providing commentary. [YOUR SHOULDERS ARE TOO TENSE; YOU HAVE TO RELAX. SLOW IS SMOOTH, SMOOTH IS FAST.] The drone had been using Frank’s voice more and more often, and Kyle had to admit it was calming. The old man was a great teacher, patient and clear with his instructions. Frank was more lenient in some ways than Amalia or Garth, but the simple and functional advice helped center Kyle in a way the more technical criticism didn’t.

Even though he wasn’t training much more than while he was in Albaum, Kyle found that he was getting less and less distracted by the thoughts of what came next. Kyle had reflected on C.H.A.D.D.’s words after they entered the tunnel, and he knew the drone was right. Ever since meeting Garth and the others from Duilleag, he had jumped at the opportunity to feel useful to the people around him. He’d wanted so badly to be accepted and for things to go back to normal. “Normal” is dead. The desire to help people still burned in his chest, but as he’d processed the recent events, he’d come to a simple, clear conclusion. He was too weak to make a difference.

If he had been stronger, the upgraded firearms wouldn’t have made a difference. He could have strolled out of Duilleag casually, unthreatened by Cornelius, Valentine, or anybody else. He thought about his grandfather, staring fate in the eye as he watched the world about to end, spitting in its face to save a grandson that, by all rights, should have died. That was the kind of power Kyle wanted. The kind of power he needed. But to get there, he’d need to build a foundation. Brick by brick, one step at a time. This cave provided the perfect circumstances to allow him to accomplish exactly that.

He'd had to pause twice during his training to deal with small groups of beetles that made their way into the cave system, which he dispatched with ease. Each day, a handful of the creatures would appear in the caverns, moving toward the tunnels the Infernal was resting in. Kyle wasn’t sure what was drawing them, but they proved to be a steady source of food. He just wished that he could figure out a better way to cook them outside of letting them get scorched by the oversized ground beetle.

After all this time eating them, he still wasn’t used to the taste of burnt beetle meat. He sighed as he moved the two charred beetle carcasses to the side of the larger chamber, set aside for the night’s dinner. That done, he started the hardest part of the evening’s training.

[YOUR MANA IS MOVING IN PULSES, DR. MAYHEW.] Kyle opened his eyes as he sat on the floor, his brow dripping with sweat. The drone’s comment broke his concentration, and he reached to grab a drink from his canteen. The last couple week’s training had borne fruit. With conscious effort, he was now able to prevent the mana inside his body from pulsing out like it had. While in that state, however, he wasn’t able to use any of his skills. The way the mana moved when he activated them was just too difficult to control with the level of precision he needed.

This was only half of the equation, and like he’d thought before, the rest was found in his practice of controlling Haste. He wasn’t as keenly aware when he had started that training, but now he noticed that his mana flowed differently when the skill was active. Instead of moving in cadence with the pulses of the energy in the atmosphere, it surged through his body like water breaking through a floodgate, where he only controlled how far the gate was open. At closer inspection, each of his skills caused his mana to move differently. Heal caused a gentle circulation of localized mana, and Regeneration moved the mana in a continuous wave through his pathways.

Kyle spent hours in meditation each day focusing on these subtle changes through the use of his skills and then attempting to replicate the movements with the mana that normally moved in his body. At first, it felt like he was trying to change the flow of a river running through him, but the more he meditated on it, the more he found that impression incorrect. There was an inertia to the energy, but the fact that his skills were able to make changes told him there was more to it.

The first breakthrough happened when he activated Regeneration while meditating and focusing on his center. He saw the shift flow out from his mental impression of the skill, and observed the wave moving around his body from there. After experimentation, he found that his center was the key to all of it—though understanding that and applying it were two different challenges altogether.

“How long before the pulses came back, C.H.A.D.D.?” Kyle asked, lowering the canteen from his mouth.

[NEARLY AN HOUR, DR. MAYHEW.]

It was his best result so far, nearly twice as long as what he had been able to do a week ago. Unfortunately, he’d hit the point of severely diminishing returns. The last several days saw some improvement, but it was marginal. Kyle wasn’t completely satisfied with his progress, as he still wasn’t able to apply the principle to adjust the function of his skills.

Part of him wanted to continue to refine these skills further but at this point, he was starting to grow restless. A month inside the cave was a lot, and he missed seeing the stars. Coming to a decision, he turned to his companion. “Do you think we’re ready to try again?”

[ALMOST CERTAINLY, DR. MAYHEW. PROBABLY. POSSIBLY.]

“That doesn’t give me much confidence, C.H.A.D.D.”

[WERE YOU ASKING ME TO GIVE YOU CONFIDENCE OR ASKING ME FOR AN OBJECTIVE ASSESSMENT?]

“Fair point. Either way, I think I’ve learned about as much as I can training like we have. I’m taking a shot at it tomorrow morning.”

The other thing causing Kyle to grow restless was his memory of the feelings he’d experienced when he’d encountered the fly. He had a similar impression of the Infernal, and he knew that this creature was somehow connected to what had happened not only to him but to the planet as a whole. He shuddered as he thought about the presence from his dream and the changes to his body. Whatever had happened had cost him his family, his friends, and his life. It was on the cusp of costing him his humanity. He knew the answers to his questions likely wouldn’t be easy ones, but they were answers he needed nonetheless. He grabbed a burned beetle leg and bit down on it as the acrid taste filled his mouth. Tomorrow, the Infernal would die.

Chapter 58

Kyle exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the tunnel beyond. It was time. C.H.A.D.D. confirmed what Kyle felt—that the Infernal was waiting down the tunnel before him. The smooth, hardened clay was warm beneath his feet, a testament to the power of the creature he was about to kill. Kyle had no illusions about what would happen if he got himself caught in the narrow tunnel. He would be burned and killed. If he pursued this path, the only way it would end was with either his death or the beetle’s.

He could still simply walk away, but that had never been an option for him. The desire had been eating at him the entire time they’d been in the cave, growing stronger with each passing day. He wanted to kill this thing, to show that he was superior. Even C.H.A.D.D. seemed to understand that, remaining uncharacteristically quiet as Kyle prepared.

Breathe in, breathe out. Those simple words played themselves over and over in his head, keeping him centered and focused. He directed his attention to the mana circulating through his body, and with effort, he suppressed the pulses that would warn his prey of his location. “C.H.A.D.D., are you picking anything up?”

[NO, DR. MAYHEW. MY SENSORS ARE NOT PICKING UP ANY INDICATIONS FROM YOU.]

“Thanks, C.H.A.D.D. This will be over shortly; I’ll be back for you soon.”

[BE CAREFUL, DR. MAYHEW.]

Nothing changed in C.H.A.D.D.’s robotic diction, but the drone’s words conveyed the concern clearly to Kyle. He thought about what would happen if he died here, leaving C.H.A.D.D. alone in an obscure cave in the middle of nowhere. He couldn’t decide if the drone was truly sapient or if he was just projecting his loneliness onto the little robot. Either way, he didn’t want to leave his companion alone here. That just means there’s no room to screw it up.

Fixing his eyes ahead, he took a deep breath and began to walk down the tunnel. He saw the glowing circles facing him as he approached, and he felt the tension building as he approached. Each step brought him closer, and for a moment, he dared to believe the plan would go as smoothly as he’d hoped. Then he heard the unmistakable crunch of brittle pottery breaking beneath his feet. There was a crystallized moment where time stood still, and then Kyle saw mana rapidly drawing into the array on the Infernal’s back. He only had moments. Giving up entirely on stealth, Kyle activated Haste and dove for the oversized beetle. His vision went white as five beams of searing heat erupted from the abdomen of the Infernal.

He screamed in agony as one of the blasts caught his right leg, but his desperate leap had worked—he was too close for the creature to use its heat-attuned mana effectively. With a snarl, Kyle grabbed onto the leg nearest him and pulled with all his might. While the Infernal was massive for beetle standards, it was far from large enough to pose an obstacle against Kyle’s Strength.

The brittle clay coating the cavern’s edge gave a loud crack as the insect smashed against it, but Kyle miscalculated exactly how hard he had swung the creature. While he maintained his grip on the leg, it split at the joint, freeing the Infernal from his grip. It had turned to face him, and Kyle got a good look at its eyeless face, antennae bobbing madly. It lunged for him, mandibles aiming for his throat. Kyle’s instinct was to dodge to the side, but he resisted it.

If he ended up behind the beetle, he knew he’d be as good as dead in these narrow tunnels, especially now that his leg was injured. The next motion came naturally from the techniques he’d learned with Garth, and he punched down on the creature’s head while tossing his legs backward, forcing the mandibles down into the ground. He had hoped that would create an opportunity to counterattack, but the spikes that jutted out from the abdomen swung for him, forcing Kyle to step back to avoid being skewered.

He used the brief disengagement to focus energy into Heal for his injured leg. He winced in pain; the recovery from these burns hurt. The Infernal raised its head before doing something Kyle hadn’t seen before. It raised its abdomen, performing what Kyle could only describe as a skunk doing a handstand. The protruding spikes dug into the ground next to its head, and Kyle once again found himself staring directly at the glowing array, charged and ready to fire.

There was only one course of action left for him. He dove once again toward the creature, this time directly at its head, as the blast scorched the tunnel behind him. He felt his back burning and knew if it wasn’t for all his changes, he would have been cooked alive by the attack. The roar that escaped his mouth was equal parts rage and agony, and that only magnified as the Infernal bit into his upraised arms with its razor-sharp mandibles. In this, though, the creature had miscalculated.

Sure, the bites were painful, but they could do little more than leave shallow cuts on Kyle’s reinforced skin. Now, it was in Kyle’s realm. His mind was blank with anger as he engaged the creature, repeatedly smashing its head with his fists. After multiple brutal blows, the creature fell to the ground, unmoving.

Kyle slumped against the opposite wall of the tunnel, breathing heavily. Pain wracked his body, and even though he had deactivated Haste, he was still in agony. Regeneration was doing its work, and Kyle looked at the remains of his foe. The chitin on its head was cracked open, the antennae lying lifeless.

The abdomen still gave off a gentle shimmer of heat, but the arrays were no longer glowing. Still, Kyle could feel the familiar pulses emanating from the creature’s body, and moments later he saw streams of deep red energy flowing out of its body and concentrating into a single crimson gemstone. He had seen this before, and he reached out to touch it, gritting his teeth in anticipation of what was to come. The gemstone turned into dust at his touch, which burrowed into his body like a thousand needles. Even though he was prepared for it, he still let out a hoarse scream before darkness took him.

Garth looked out at the forest from his station at the wall. It had been over a month since they’d had a group of refugees make it to Nierburg, and he was growing restless. They didn’t always mention his name, but the description they had given of their rescuer and guide made it clear that it was Kyle escorting these groups to the city. He’d become sort of a folk hero to the people in the city.

The stories were a little outrageous, with one little girl adamant that he killed a swarm of thirty beetles all by himself. Some claimed that he was bulletproof, while others said that the drone he had with him was the real leader, giving him messages from the Originators themselves. They all made him chuckle when he heard them, but as time passed, people talked about him less and less.

It also wasn’t lost on Garth that the delivery his team made out west was right before the refugees stopped arriving. It didn’t take a genius to understand that the two were connected. What Garth wasn’t able to figure out was why.

The kid was doing work that was specifically listed on the Central Authority continuity plan. They were still a little way out from having the resources to allocate to expansion and reclamation, but it was work that still needed to get done. He wasn’t able to get any more out of his team or the higher-ups about the contents of the delivery they’d made, which was frustrating. Despite their time together, they just didn’t seem to trust him. He’d spoken with Stephanie about it a couple times, and though he hated to admit it, her advice of taking a softer approach might be right.

The only information he had was what Joseph had told him, and he knew his squad didn’t just deliver simple supplies. Just what have you gotten yourself wrapped up in kid? Garth thought, looking out once again to the forest.

Chapter 59

Kyle had prepared himself for the possibility of finding another one of the crimson stones, but the sudden shock of absorbing it had still taken him by surprise. Before he knew it, he was back in the strange dreamscape he experienced the time before. This time, he started as an ant, defending his colony from an invader. Then he was a mantis, waiting patiently for prey to step close enough to strike. Then he was back on the mountainside with his grandfather, staring up at the stars. That stirred something in him, and he desperately tried to hold onto that memory, regaining some of his sense of self. He still felt as though he were in the middle of a raging river, but the thought of his precious time with his grandfather served as an anchor, a blazing north star in a swirling night sky.

As he drifted from perspective to perspective, he held fast to Clark’s words of praise, the ache in his muscles from trying to keep up, the taste of toasted marshmallow on his tongue. Slowly, steadily, he gained ground against the storm in his mind. The shifting slowed, then stopped, and Kyle found himself looking down on a tapestry of different images and experiences. His experiences, he realized. He was present for all of them, but the perspectives were different. A bee outside a classroom, an anthill he walked past with his grandfather, all connected to his life.

As he looked at how each of the pieces were linked, a familiar presence began to wash over him. The images faded one after another, and Kyle found himself floating in an empty void. There was no up, no down, nothing he could see or touch. The only thing he could feel was the sense of being observed, and the same feeling of terror at the sheer power of the presence stirred inside him. This time, the presence lingered on him, seeming to take real notice for the first time. What the hell is this? Kyle thought, fear continuing to build as he existed, exposed before whatever creature was watching him.

“THE CORRECT QUESTION IS ‘WHO AM I,’ LITTLE LARVA.” The booming voice spoke directly into Kyle’s mind, shaking him to his core. “YOU ARE A LONG WAY FROM HAVING THE RIGHT TO ASK, MUCH LESS TO RECEIVE AN ANSWER. SURVIVE, AND ONE DAY THAT MAY CHANGE.”

With that, the presence vanished, and Kyle’s eyes opened.

The pain was still there, but much less than the last time he’d awoken from this experience. His body was still recovering from the injuries he suffered in his fight with the Infernal, and he had a migraine that made his head feel as though it were about to split into pieces. Still, he was alive. He was on the opposite wall of the unmoving body of the Infernal, which was no longer releasing any pulses of mana. He was still in a cold sweat, recovering from the interaction with the being in his dream. Whatever it was, at this point, Kyle was convinced that it wasn’t a product of his imagination but a real creature. It was powerful, and it was somehow connected to the disaster that had struck the world. Worst of all, the terrifying presence knew who he was. Little larva? What the hell? Another shudder ran through him as he considered those implications.

He took several steadying breaths, refocusing. He had come out on top in his fight against the Infernal, which marked more than a couple milestones. Kyle had faced death again, and he’d won. The victory was proof of Kyle’s progress—an enemy that he couldn’t have defeated just four weeks ago was dead. It wasn’t because of major changes to his attributes, it wasn’t due to new skills. It was the fruit of training and effort. And if he could overcome this challenge, what else could he overcome?

Kyle was curious to see if absorbing this stone had led to any changes, but he resisted the temptation to enter meditation immediately. Instead, he laboriously made his way back in the direction where he’d left C.H.A.D.D. His body ached, but other than being in pain he didn’t feel meaningfully different than before. As he turned the corner to the entrance of the larger chamber he’d called home, the last four weeks, his eyes widened. C.H.A.D.D. was right where he’d expected, but Kyle could see a faint sparkle in the air around the drone, gently moving into his travel companion. “C.H.A.D.D., what are you doing?”

[WAITING FOR YOU TO RETURN, DR. MAYHEW. WHICH YOU HAVE. WELCOME BACK!]

Kyle considered how to respond to that when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a similar sparkle in the air next to his body. Focusing on it, he saw dozens of similar streams flowing into his body, each moving in the now familiar rhythm. This is mana, Kyle realized, observing the energy infusing his body.

As if to confirm his suspicions, C.H.A.D.D. spoke up. [DR. MAYHEW, SCANS OF YOUR BODY ARE COMPLETED. NERVE CLUSTERS IN OCCIPITAL LOBE HAVE GROWN, ADDITIONAL MANA CONDUCTIVITY FLOWING THROUGH THE REGION. I AM ALSO NOTING CHANGES IN THE COMPOSITION OF THE NERVE GANGLIA IN YOUR EYES.]

Kyle nodded slowly as he processed the information C.H.A.D.D. shared with him. Wordlessly, he picked up his companion, and they walked to the pool of clean water, dread building as he thought about what he would see.

“C.H.A.D.D., can you give me a little light here?” The drone obliged, and Kyle looked at his reflection in the pool. It wasn’t a substitute for a mirror, but Kyle saw enough to give him a sigh of relief. He was worried he’d see large bug eyes on his face, but from what he could see, his face looked normal. Well, as normal as it could with a scruffy beard and shaggy hair. That fear behind him, he drank deeply from his canteen and washed, wincing as the water ran across the still-recovering burns on his back. It was a humbling reminder of how close a thing his fight with the Infernal had been and how much room he still had to grow.

Settling back into the cavern, Kyle looked around before he prepared to meditate. The rocks had now become familiar in the warm glow that C.H.A.D.D. provided, and as odd as it was, Kyle knew he would miss the cavern when they left to return to Albaum. In many ways it was just as much of a home in this broken new world. He was thankful for what this space had allowed him to accomplish and even more thankful that C.H.A.D.D. had pushed him to stay as long as they had. With the feeling of gratitude in his chest, he entered meditation.

To Kyle’s relief, the changes from absorbing the gemstone this time were much less significant. The twisting streams of energy were stronger and more vibrant, and another one of the arms representing his attributes had a filled node. He focused on the glowing red node, and the impression formed words in his mind. Adaptive Anatomy—2/?—Enhanced Carapace, Auric Perception. Just as before, he didn’t get any deeper impressions of what that meant for him, only that it was tied to his Perception attribute. He focused on the outline of himself at the center, and it pulled up his overview.

KYLE MAYHEW. ARTHRO-HUMAN CHIMERA (AWAKENED), HEALER. LEVEL 60

ADAPTIVE ANATOMY—2/?—ENHANCED CARAPACE, AURIC PERCEPTION

VITALITY: 218

ENDURANCE: 218

STRENGTH: 68

DEXTERITY: 145

WILLPOWER: 166

INTELLIGENCE: 221

PERCEPTION: 220

FREE ATTRIBUTES: 4

He absently allocated his free attribute points to Willpower, bringing it up to 170. He took a moment to admire the growth he’d experienced over the last several months. Level 60 used to be nearly unheard of, with nobody publicly reaching the level in decades. And here, in a matter of months, Kyle had not only reached the level, but the sheer amount of attributes he’d accumulated likely dwarfed what any other human alive could do. Maybe I’m more like Grandpa than I thought, Kyle mused.

He might be a deviant, rejected by the Central Authority, but he was growing into a damn powerful one. All that done, Kyle turned his attention to three indistinct gray orbs. They hovered above a foundation of three well-defined patterns—the skills Kyle had selected and used as he struggled to survive. And now, in this moment, he was faced with one of the most important decisions he’d have to make for quite a while—the last skill selection of the E Grade.

Chapter 60

Anticipation filling his heart, Kyle focused on the first of the gray orbs. As he focused on it, a word popped into his mind—Rally. As expected, the skill was the most complex he’d encountered yet. First, he got the impression of how it would change his mana pathways, creating complex arrays that would interact directly with the space around him. Along with showing him the impact on himself if he took the skill, he received a vision of how it could be applied. He saw himself standing alongside a group of faceless soldiers, drawing in breath as he activated Rally. A surge of mana went out from him and into the warriors around him, all of whom proceeded to move faster and strike harder as their bodies were pushed past their normal limits. It appeared to require the caster of the skill to constantly channel mana into it, but the results were significant.

It was hard to tell with the illusory soldiers in his vision, but from what Kyle could estimate, their speed and power were increased in the ballpark of 30 percent. That was beyond the level of most individual boosting skills that he’d learned about in his medical training, and being able to cast on a group was a major boon. Furthermore, Kyle had the impression that, in many ways, this functioned similar to Haste and that, with practice, he may be able to adjust the level of the boost. He thought about the application if he was working along, somebody like Garth who had their own boosting abilities—just a small squad with access to this skill would be able to handle all but the most powerful of opponents. Of course, he knew that it would come with drawbacks.

Like any boosting skill, there was a real risk of injury to those who used it. Kyle being a Healer would help mitigate that somewhat; however the backlash was still noteworthy. It also relied on him staying stationary while he channeled the skill, which would quickly become an issue if he found himself in a situation where he’d be in danger. Lastly, it would require him to have a group of people he could trust surrounding him, something he’d been lacking for a long time now. Overall very powerful, but still situational in its utility.

Keeping it in the back of his mind, he moved on to the next gray orb, which revealed itself as Resonance. This one was… odd. It didn’t show meaningful changes to the structure of the mana pathways inside his body, but rather showed them all to become more… flexible? Kyle wasn’t sure, but he saw them moving and reacting to external mana, as well as adjusting the speed and intensity of the internal flow in Kyle’s body. The accompanying vision was much more intriguing. He saw himself alongside an injured soldier, and the facsimile of Kyle used the skill, followed by using Heal on the man. It then highlighted the way the mana was flowing, and in the vision, Kyle was using his patient’s own mana to fuel the Heal skill.

Before Kyle could process all the implications there, his perspective shifted to a Mage who had been using large-scale techniques one after another, finally running out of mana to continue. Similarly, Kyle touched the Mage and used Resonance, allowing the recipient to tap into Kyle’s own mana to continue to use skill after skill. At face value, this skill appeared to create what amounted to mana batteries, either for Kyle or for a recipient of his choice. On its own, that had plenty of applications. Looking deeper, however, there was a lot more here. The ability to connect mana pathways between people had been long theorized, though to Kyle’s knowledge, it had never been proven.

This skill seemed to have some method to do just that, albeit not in a permanent or irrevocable way. Kyle was most interested in the changes to his mana pathways. They became more flexible and pliable because they would gain the ability to change and adapt to meet the circumstances the skill required. The possibilities were exciting, but Kyle also knew that it would not be immediately useful. It would require practice and experimentation, and he wasn’t sure if he’d truly have the time and resources to dedicate to that endeavor. The utility of this skill would be entirely dependent on Kyle’s effort and creativity, and there was no guarantee that it would work in his favor.

Deep in consideration, he turned his focus onto the final orb, which revealed the word Anticipation. The mana pathways in his head would receive dozens more nodes if he selected this skill, and as before, the vision took him to see what the skill would let him do. In this case, he saw himself sitting quietly when a gunshot rang out. The image of him dove to the side, avoiding the attack. He was then beside a patient, treating them in a hospital room, when the door burst open. His image was already moving as the intruder entered the room, turning to face them.

The vision stopped and cut to the mana pathways in his image’s mind, amplifying all of his senses. From what Kyle could see, this would act as a sort of “danger sense”—the skill using all the sensory data he could draw in to help him unconsciously identify incoming danger before he could be taken totally by surprise. The utility here was obvious—if he was able to react to dangerous situations more quickly and effectively, he would be even harder to put down. Strangely, that was also the issue that Kyle took with the skill. While it would undoubtedly be a benefit to him, he wasn’t sure if it was something he really needed.

Between C.H.A.D.D. and his Auric Perception, it was already a tall order to take him by surprise. His Enhanced Carapace provided an additional layer of survivability, and Haste had proven invaluable at escaping these situations when he found himself caught. In the most dangerous situations he found himself in recently, he wasn’t sure if the advanced notice would have added much value. The bandits with the powerful rifles had set themselves up well enough that by the time they started firing, he was already pinned down. When facing the Infernal in the tunnels, advanced warning wouldn’t have helped him deal with the insect any more effectively. On the other hand, Kyle knew that the challenges and dangers ahead of him were going to vary greatly, and another tool to help him survive them wasn’t something to dismiss lightly.

There was one other thing Kyle considered as he weighed the three options. As his last skill in the E Grade, each would have an impact on the way he would develop from here. D Grade was no longer out of the question for him, and from what little Kyle knew from his grandfather, it didn’t only bring new skills but opportunities to refine and develop the existing skills as well.

Selecting Rally would cement him as a supportive member of any group he was in, but the more Kyle thought about it, the less he liked the idea of the skill. He owed a lot of his survival to his mobility, and a skill that forced him to stand in one place to empower others took that off the table. Furthermore, absent powerful allies, the people he'd be empowering were standard unawakened. He wasn’t sure how well their bodies would handle the backlash from a skill like this, and putting them in danger to protect him just didn’t sit right.

That left him with the decision between Resonance and Anticipation While neither had the same impact at face value he would see with Rally, he felt that the synergy between both was higher with the place he found himself in now. If he went with Resonance, he would be faced with a lot of unknowns. In a worst-case scenario, he wouldn’t get the application and utility he was looking for, leaving him with an incredibly limited skill until a hopeful D Grade enhancement. On the other hand, if the ideas he was considering worked, he’d have an incredibly powerful and flexible foundation he could build on.

He contrasted that with Anticipation, which was the exact opposite—a known quantity of known value. If he selected this skill, his ability to survive would be unparalleled. The ability to upgrade it in D Grade would only enhance that ability further, and it had a great deal of synergy with both Haste and Regeneration. He would have less flexibility in his approach to problems, but he would be able to specialize in what he did best. Two skills. One choice. With a deep breath, Kyle made his decision.

Chapter 61

His skill selection completed, Kyle’s next order of business was to start working on the body of the Infernal. He brought C.H.A.D.D. with him to where his foe’s body lay unmoving, setting the drone against the body. I don’t know if it’ll work. Kyle had been hoping to use the chitin from the abdomen as an extra layer of protection for his companion, offering solutions for both physical damage as well as the deteriorating effect of the mana in the air.

The drone was much smaller than the bulbous abdomen of the Infernal, and it was clear that this was a project that would require time and tools they didn’t have with them. The creature’s body was much too large to comfortably carry back to Albaum; however, with some creative use of the sharper shards of clay scattered in the area, Kyle found that he was able to remove some of the chitinous plates. It wasn’t going to give him enough material to do everything he’d hoped, but when all was said and done, he had enough pieces to make reasonable armor for his companion.

Kyle covered his eyes with his free hand as he exited the cave system for the first time in over a month. It took his eyes the better part of an hour to readjust to the natural sunlight, though he found with his Auric Perception that he still had a general sense of the world around him through the flow of the ambient mana. Kyle considered starting to make their way back in the general direction of Duilleag but decided against it until his eyes had fully adjusted and he had a handle on the new sensations he was experiencing.

More than ever before, he could feel the energy that his body was drawing in. He could even feel a similar, fainter pull from C.H.A.D.D., who was cradled under his left arm. He sensed the flow of the mana around him, almost like water across his skin, and the sheer amount was jarring. This is going to take some getting used to. Kyle took a deep breath and tried to focus only on the mana he could feel himself and C.H.A.D.D. drawing in. That was a familiar sensation in many ways, even if he was able to sense it far more acutely now, which was comforting.

[DR. MAYHEW, I DON’T MEAN TO INTERRUPT, BUT I DON’T THINK STANDING HERE IS GOING TO BE PARTICULARLY PRODUCTIVE.]

“Yeah, well, you’re not the one trying to look at the sun for the first time in a month. I wouldn’t want us to get lost or ambushed because my eyes were too sensitive to work properly.”

[I CAN, AND HAVE, HELPED YOU AVOID MORE AMBUSHES THAN YOUR EYES, DR. MAYHEW. I DOUBT THAT REALITY WILL CHANGE ANY TIME SOON.]

“You’ve got a point there, C.H.A.D.D.” Kyle almost left his next words unsaid, but he thought better. The little drone had become his friend in the months that had passed, as strange as that was to think. “And I also wanted to thank you, C.H.A.D.D. I haven’t gotten everything figured out, and you were right. This isn’t a race, and if I did things my way, I wouldn’t have gotten as far as I have—hell, I might be dead. Thank you for pushing me to slow down and think.”

That seemed to take the drone by surprise, and they stood in silence for several more minutes before C.H.A.D.D. responded, [YOU’RE WELCOME, DR. MAYHEW.] With that, C.H.A.D.D. began to direct Kyle back to Duilleag. Without access to its projectors, the drone wouldn’t be able to show the map and help them orient themselves in relation to Albaum, but Kyle was optimistic that they’d be able to figure it out as they got closer. He was taken aback by the beauty as they walked, not having had an opportunity to really appreciate it as he was darting across the landscape with Haste active in the half-light of dusk.

The trees had a rich, brown bark that was a stark contrast to the golden leaves and grasses, a different sight than the more dense, green shrubbery he was used to in the mountains outside of Newton. Alongside the striking beauty of the forest, he also felt the mana as it suffused the landscape around him, ebbing and flowing gently through the trees and down into the earth, only to be drawn up and pushed back into the air. It almost gave him the impression that the whole forest was breathing, and he marveled again at his newfound ability to perceive it. He had never felt so connected to the environment around him before, and he couldn’t help but wonder if this is how his grandfather felt when he was out in nature. He could picture the old man sleeping in a hammock under the stars, a smile on his face with eyes closed, and an errant leaf stuck in his bushy beard.

For the first time in a while, that image wasn’t accompanied by a wave of grief. I’m going to make you proud, Old Man. Rest easy. That thought felt more in his reach than ever as Kyle considered his next steps. He knew he would need to get back to Albaum before he could work properly on the most pressing project on his docket. Fortunately, the journey would give him time to practice.

C.H.A.D.D. gave a warning when they got within approximately ten kilometers from the outskirts of Duilleag, and Kyle came to a stop, looking at the sun still hovering over the horizon as he took a long pull from his canteen. Wiping his mouth, he looked down at the drone in his arm. “All right, C.H.A.D.D., I’m going to need some help with this part.” He nestled his companion between the roots of a nearby tree, placing the salvaged chitin plates next to it.

He took a deep breath and activated Resonance. He knew it was, in some ways, the riskiest choice to make, but alongside his Auric Perception, he felt that it was a risk worth taking. He felt the mana pathways in his body become malleable, and resting his hand against the trunk of the tree, he got an impression of the way mana flowed through the rough bark beneath his palm. With effort, Kyle tried to get his pathways to connect with the tree, but he wasn’t able to get the connection quite right. “C.H.A.D.D., what can you tell me here?”

[DR. MAYHEW, YOUR MANA PATHWAYS ARE STILL TOO THICK TO PROPERLY CONNECT WITH THE MANA PATHWAYS OF THE TREE. AND IF I MAY, DR. MAYHEW, I DON’T BELIEVE YOUR SKILL WAS DESIGNED TO BE ABLE TO CONNECT TO TREES. THIS SEEMS TO BE A RATHER POINTLESS USE OF THE TECHNIQUE.]

Kyle couldn’t blame the drone for its response. After all, it didn’t have the full picture. Kyle wasn’t sure he did either, though he did feel confident he was on the right path with his thinking. When he’d gone back to the body of the Infernal, despite it not giving off any more surges of mana, he could still detect channels in the chitin of the creature where mana once flowed. They were particularly pronounced in the areas near where the glowing arrays were located, reinforcing his belief.

Using Auric Perception, he detected a similar, albeit far weaker, impression from the trees around him. It made sense, as they also had mana flowing through them. He didn’t get any such impressions from either the clay in the cave or the stones during their travels, and that spurred a thought in him. If he was able to use Resonance to connect his mana pathways to materials that he knew could conduct mana, what could he do with them? His first thought was of the blasts of heat the Infernal had used. If he channeled mana through the arrays, assuming they were intact, was there any reason that they wouldn’t still function that way?

The thoughts excited him, and he continued to workshop different strategies to test his theories. Of course, that would only happen once he actually had a handle on manipulating his internal mana pathways. The work he’d been putting in over the last month had built a strong foundation for his control, but there was still a long way to go. He could feel the mana pathways more clearly than ever, as well as the mana around him. However, C.H.A.D.D.’s sensors were the key to working out the finer details. Just a month ago, he would have gotten impatient, but Kyle had gained an appreciation for patience. He had time to work, so he smiled at the drone. “If that’s all it was, it would be a pretty useless skill,” Kyle agreed, “but humor me.”

Chapter 62

Victor DeRosa was, as always, having a bad day. The chefs had finally figured out how to make a couple of decent meals, and he was actually looking forward to eating one. It was on its way from the kitchens when the director of Central Communication had burst into his office unannounced to discuss some “important business.” Ordinarily, this was an acceptable frustration. Alas, he knew that this particular interruption would cause the food to be lukewarm, and the thought of having to wait even longer for a fresh dinner caused his blood to boil. He regarded the toadish man before him, who had spent the last several minutes heaping praises on DeRosa for all his accomplishments.

Warranted, to be sure. Nothing he didn’t know. His patience worn thin, he steepled his fingers and met Addison’s eyes. “Get to the point, Director. What, exactly, was so urgent that you needed to see me without notice?” The tone was flat and dangerous. Addison was a useful man but far from irreplaceable now that DeRosa’s grip on the government had been solidified.

“Vic—ah—Councilman, sir. We were getting some strange readings from the bandit camp in Duilleag over the last month, and after further study, I’ve determined that the cause was a Transportation Array.”

“And you’re certain?” Victor kept his tone calm, but there was an eagerness bubbling up that he was struggling to suppress, all thoughts of the meal he missed immediately evaporating from his mind.

“There’s no doubt at all, sir. A Transportation Array was activated roughly a month ago and has been recharging, steadily siphoning mana in Duilleag ever since. At its current pace, it’s likely it will take at least another year, maybe more, before it’s functional again.”

Addison paused, dabbing at the sweat on his brow with a kerchief before continuing, “Of course, with our current understanding, there’s room for error. I’m not sure how a group of bandits got their hands on one, but I’d very much like to examine it. Why, think of the applications! We could…”

The Central Communications director blathered on for a while, with Victor no longer listening. Transportation Arrays were a closely guarded secret for a reason. The ability to move people and supplies nearly instantaneously across the mana network was too useful. They had been instrumental in the formation of the Central Authority, allowing troops and provisions to suddenly appear at critical moments, snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.

In the years of peace that followed the establishment of the Central Authority, they had become less and less necessary. Supply chains were developed, resources were more effectively managed, and threats from nature were suppressed. Even still, they had a place for disaster relief. In those early days, it was a more open secret, but as time wore on, they faded into obscurity. That owed mainly to the fact that the Originators had taken the majority off-planet when they’d left, and only a handful remained. At least until that man took them.

There was only one person who had both the knowledge to use them and the opportunity to obtain them. I’d hoped you were dead, Valentine, Victor thought, keeping a scowl from forming on his face as he returned his attention to the man in his office.

“Why, I could scarcely believe it, but after all the analytics, there was no doubt. I must tell you, Councilman, that it was a real undertaking to discover it. I had never seen the schematics before, but after pulling a handful of records, we were able to piece it together…” Victor’s breath caught at that word, and his gaze sharpened as his eyes fixed on his guest. He thought he’d controlled his expression well enough, but Addison seemed to notice the change and visibly paled, stopping halfway through his sentence. “Sir, would you like to me to inform Reynolds? We can dispatch a unit right away. Yes, that would be best. I-I’ll get going right away, sir. Thank you, sir.”

The middle aged man was sweating again and made his way toward the door. With a sigh, Victor activated Mana Whorl and effortlessly slammed the door shut, while other tendrils of mana wrapped around Addison and held him fast. “Addison, who else have you told?” Victor said with a sigh.

“N-N-Nobody of importance, I swear! I barely knew about their existence myself! I just had my analysts run the numbers, that’s all! I swear! Please! Please! Pl—” *SNAP* Addison’s final word was cut short with a quick twist of the mana that had encircled him—his neck breaking cleanly. Now alone, Victor allowed the heat to rise in him as he gritted his teeth. Now he would have to deal with every analyst who had touched this project, and likely the staff at Central Administration who had released the records. Addison was easily replaced—bootlickers were a dime a dozen—but competent analysts were much harder to find. Still, it was a necessary cost.

The revelation of a recently-used Transportation Array was significant, though the other fact it confirmed was equally so. Gregory Valentine was alive. Victor came up in Central Defense with the man, and despite different convictions, he’d respected Valentine until he turned deviant. Victor genuinely believed he was dead; it had been nearly a decade since he’d last heard the name mentioned. But the pieces fit too well, and if Valentine were still out there, Victor would be a fool to take him lightly.

That wasn’t to say, however, that he was without options. He opened his desk drawer, then, with the tendrils of mana still circulating around him, he lifted the false bottom and simultaneously opened the seven locks. The lid popped open, the explosive within disarmed as he took out the small device. When Valentine defected, he’d taken the three remaining arrays that were locked in the Central Defense Vault. What he didn’t know at the time is that there were two other arrays still in the Central Authority’s possession, and Victor had one of them. While he wasn’t certain where the last was held, it was likely not on the other side of the world, destroyed by the calamity that had changed everything.

Knowing one of the arrays was unusable for the better part of a year, that would leave Gregory with a maximum of two that were functional. Used appropriately, he could probably mobilize a strike force of eight to ten awakened. That was a threat—even eight elite awakened soldiers in the middle of Nierburg could cause a lot of chaos. Moreover, the existence of the arrays would mean that there was no way to guarantee a decisive blow. Valentine and his ilk could simply escape if they were cornered. Furthermore, short of taking the field himself, Reynolds was the only other man who could hold his own against Valentine, and even that was likely a coin flip at best.

His frown deepened as he considered the problem. If the Central Authority fielded more military power to pin Valentine down, he and his followers could simply jump to Nierburg and strike a deathblow to Victor’s growing empire before it ever had a chance to blossom. The alternative was to leave him out in the wild, uncontested, and risk passivity playing right into his enemy’s hands. A conundrum for sure, though as he considered all his options, an idea began to form. Victor smiled. My advantage, Gregory. He deactivated Mana Whorl, still holding the device while he continued to consider the path ahead, completely ignoring the lifeless body of Addison on his floor until he nearly tripped over it. Snapping out of his reverie, Victor decided on the next steps. He called the one man he knew he could trust. “Reynolds, get to my office. Alone. We have work to do.”

Chapter 63

The journey back to Albaum took Kyle and C.H.A.D.D. much longer than they had expected. For C.H.A.D.D. to get its bearings, they first had to get back to Duilleag so it could recalibrate the map. He thought keeping ten kilometers from the Liberation headquarters would have been more than enough distance to keep prying eyes away. But Liberation’s scouts were much more thorough than he’d anticipated. C.H.A.D.D. detected a small squad of men approaching their location only minutes after Kyle had finished his practice with Resonance that first day. Kyle decided not to attack the group, even though there were no awakened present among the soldiers.

To avoid risking discovery by the patrols, they’d had to nearly double the distance from the city. When coupled with the time Kyle spent in combat practice and with Resonance, they added two extra days just to get to the other side of Duilleag. Kyle thought he understood the direction to get toward Nierburg, but they burned another three days after they got lost, requiring C.H.A.D.D. to guide them back to the outskirts of Duilleag before getting on the right path.

All told, the journey took them just shy of two weeks—nearly double what they’d planned. The canteen had run dry two days ago, even with careful rationing, and they’d been out of food for almost twice as long. A broad smile grew on Kyle’s face as they broke the tree cover and saw the outskirts of the familiar city. Rushing into Albaum with Haste active, Kyle made a beeline for the kitchen he’d turned into his home base. As he got closer to the city, however, he grew wary and deactivated his skill.

Albaum was mostly destroyed when Kyle and C.H.A.D.D. had first entered the city, but the wreckage of buildings was much worse now than before. Buildings not reinforced with heavy concrete and rebar were smashed to pieces, entire residential neighborhoods on the outskirts flattened to the foundation. It was like a tornado had passed through, destroying indiscriminately. Kyle’s first thought was that either Liberation or the group from Nierburg had discovered his location and razed the area in search of him. However, his confusion lasted only a moment before he felt it. It was faint, but the air around the destroyed homes carried a trace of mana that he had grown all-too familiar with during his time in the cave. The same type of mana that had pulsed through the fly, the Infernal, and himself.

Another monstrous insect had been here, searching for something. With a modest effort, Kyle suppressed the pulses coming from his body as he reactivated Haste. The newfound flexibility offered by Resonance, coupled with the training he’d been doing, had paid off in a pretty big way, and the ability to limit the outward expression of his mana was just the tip of the iceberg.

He darted through the ruins of the city until he came to the entrance to his home and heaved a sigh of relief. The debris he’d strewn in front of the door looked to be undisturbed, and as he entered the building, the familiar sight caused the tension he’d been carrying to melt away. He gently set C.H.A.D.D. down, followed by the plates of chitin from the Infernal that he’d brought from the cave. Next, he filled his canteen and drank greedily, only taking breaks to stuff his face with the dried nuts and other provisions he’d been given.

Until now, he hadn’t realized how much stress he was still carrying. Thinking about all the work he still wanted to get done was daunting, but the bone-deep weariness from the past months had well and truly sunk in. He wasn’t going to get anything else meaningful done today, but there was still one thing he wanted to check on before he drifted off to sleep.

After he finished washing up, he went to his mirror and took a good look at the face staring back. His complexion was still an olive tan, a testament to all the time spent outdoors despite his month in the cave. His rough brown beard had grown back in, and his shaggy hair draped over his ears and down over his eyes. Kyle didn’t feel up to trying to shave or cut his hair this afternoon, so he pulled it back as he took a closer look at his eyes. The familiar green orbs were a mirror of his grandfather’s, though the eyes staring back had changed.

It was subtle, but the glassiness was the hint that gave it away. His irises were the same deep emerald, but there were almost invisible lines separating it into perfect hexagonal panes, like the facets in a gem. Upon closer inspection, his skin, too, was different. His features had always been sharp, with high cheekbones and a pronounced chin. That had been magnified by his time in the wilderness. While some could be attributed to the change in his diet and physical exercise, he knew that there was another contributing factor. The interlaced fibers that formed his Enhanced Carapace were a mockery of skin—more undeniable proof that he was a monster pretending to be human.

A wave of emotion hit him as he stared at his reflection, and he had to suppress a sudden, violent urge to smash the mirror. The thought wasn’t a new one, and neither was the anger. He didn’t choose this. He didn’t want this. Or did I? He had been the one to pursue fighting the Infernal. He had been the one who killed the fly. He’d chosen to absorb the crimson stone a second time. And he had been excited to see what changed. Isn’t that what monsters do? Sacrificing their humanity for power?

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, hands clenched on the cool steel of the sink. He felt the metal strain under his palms, and he forced himself to take some deep breaths, closing his eyes and recentering himself. Am I still me? Kyle thought about his life before the cataclysm. He became a Healer because the Central Authority needed more and he possessed the aptitude. However, the passion and study he put into medicine were more than just a government directive. He liked helping people. That was one thing that hadn’t changed. The methods may have shifted, but the motive was the same.

Continuing that train of thought, he considered some other things he used to enjoy: being outdoors, watching the stars, and eating good food. None of that had changed. His body had begun to turn into something else, but his soul was his own. He kept his eyes closed for another moment as he steadied his breathing, then turned as he opened them, heading for the corner where his makeshift bed was waiting. While there was still a lot for him to wrestle with, it could wait until after he got some sleep.

Waking up nearly twelve hours later, Kyle felt refreshed in both body and mind. Part of him had to wonder if a good night’s rest was a type of magic all on its own, and after finishing his stretches and morning training routine, he sat down to finish making a list of things he needed to do. For the first time in a while, Kyle wasn’t in a position where all he could accomplish was metaphorical triage.

He was safe, he had access to important resources, and he had the knowledge and abilities to continue to walk down a path of his choosing. He also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was still too early for him to shepherd more refugees to Nierburg. One thing was clear to him—he simply didn’t have the power, at least not yet. So that left him with the advice C.H.A.D.D. had given him.

Right now, he needed power. Power enough that the Central Authority wouldn’t be able to deny his value. Enough that Liberation would think twice before crossing him. Enough that the bandits and raiders wouldn’t dare to raise their weapons toward the people under his care. Enough power to survive, despite the odds. And if that made him a monster, so be it. Sometimes people looked at you like a monster too, Grandpa. They didn’t know you. And they don’t know me.

All that in mind, he put pen to paper. The list was extensive at first, but with some thought, he boiled it down to what he truly felt were the most important three items for now:

Fill up the refrigerators with beetle meat.

Investigate the mana traces from the border of Albaum.

Figure out the C.H.A.D.D. transportation situation.

At face value, each item was simple, though Kyle knew that was only true of the first. Getting supplies was simple but always necessary. Tracking the mana from whatever had flattened those houses would be a simple task too—but depending on what he found, he could easily end up in a position where he was gone for weeks.

The last item was the real wild card in Kyle’s mind. If his ideas worked, he would end up with a solution that would not only simplify carrying his buddy with him but would also open a lot of doors for future improvements to his situation. If his ideas didn’t pan out, he’d have to start over from scratch. The rumbling in his stomach reminded him why restocking the fridge was at the top of his list, and with a lighter heart, he picked up the drone and cradled it under his left arm. “Come on, C.H.A.D.D. Let’s rustle up some grub.”

[DON’T YOU MEAN GRUBS, DR. MAYHEW?]

“No, C.H.A.D.D., I don’t.”

Chapter 64

C.H.A.D.D.’s scanners still proved invaluable in locating the wandering groups of beetles, though Kyle was surprised to find that his Auric Perception was a noticeable help as well. It wasn’t that he could detect the beetles themselves, but rather that he could feel fluctuations in the way mana was moving around them. The disruptions became more and more noticeable as they drew closer, and within a few dozen meters he had a good sense of what they were about to face.

The first group of three beetles fell quickly before Kyle’s blows, but before they could even get the meat back to the kitchen C.H.A.D.D. had already picked up signals from another four groups wandering around the ruins of Albaum. That gave Kyle pause—prior to their departure, they would typically only see one or two groups this size in a week. Five groups detected in such a short time was abnormal to say the least. Still, it provided some unique opportunities. “C.H.A.D.D., are you picking up anything… off with the beetles you’re detecting?”

[NO, DR. MAYHEW. THEY SEEM TO BE CONSISTENT WITH WHAT WE’VE BEEN ENCOUNTERING, ALTHOUGH WITH THIS DISTANCE, I CAN’T GUARANTEE THAT THERE AREN’T DEVIATIONS I’M UNABLE TO DETECT.]

“I won’t hold you to it. Once we drop off this haul, can you take me to the smallest group?”

[CERTAINLY, DR. MAYHEW.]

A short while later, Kyle was holding the little drone as he observed two beetles wandering the streets. They seemed agitated to Kyle, their mandibles clicking angrily as they made sharp, jerking movements. At first, he thought they had somehow detected him despite suppressing his mana, but the longer he observed, the more it felt that they were just worked up about something. He felt the mana flowing around and through their bodies, consistent with what he’d seen with the other beetles. In comparison to the feeling of atmospheric mana being drawn to him, it was night and day.

The ambient mana in the air flowed into him, but it was drawn in and caught up in the flow of mana within his body, gently pulling in energy from his surroundings. Even C.H.A.D.D. drew mana in more significantly than these beetles, and Kyle could only attribute it to their relative weakness. They had mutated, certainly, and were a real danger to any unawakened or non-combatant like he had been, but they weren’t actively using mana, nor did they channel mana for natural processes.

He thought about the Infernal and the way it released those blasts of heat. It had certainly been able to draw and utilize mana, akin to any upper E Grade mage. Even the mutated fly he’d encountered had some sort of grasp on mana utilization, and Kyle was beginning to form the idea that real mana manipulation from these creatures was likely to be closely tied with the strange red orbs he’d absorbed from them. Curiosity satisfied for now, Kyle activated Haste and engaged the insects, quickly adding more meat to his collection.

The next two groups of beetles fell in short order, and the duo was in pursuit of the last group, which C.H.A.D.D. identified to be in the southern part of the city. Kyle thought back to his conflict with the beetle swarm, feeling like it was nearly a lifetime ago, even though it was only a few short months. If I were as strong then as I am now, what would have happened? Kyle’s mind drifted, thinking about the possibilities, all leading to the same conclusion. I don’t think I even would have had to run. The thought was surprising, but accurate. He felt confident that he could make quick work of groups that size, the gap in speed and power too vast for the creatures to cross.

His head snapped up as his Auric Perception picked up traces of a very familiar mana. He’d spent a month detecting the fluctuations from the Infernal and trying to prevent the same fluctuations from leaving his body. There was no doubt in his mind that whatever had been here carried the same crimson orb. His certainty only grew as he and C.H.A.D.D. crested the hill and looked out at the destroyed shipping yard. For his part, Kyle had caused the bulk of the damage when his fight caused the large crane to collapse. Still, somebody or something else had picked up where he left off.

Shipping containers looked like they’d been hit by a bulldozer, flipped on their sides and strewn across the upturned earth with massive dents. Virtually none of the metal scaffolding was left standing, instead littering the ground in random patterns. He could see the group of beetles they were tracking wandering over the wreckage with interest, but they were the last thing on Kyle’s mind at this point. What the hell caused this? The traces of mana were unmistakable. Another mutant creature. The traces of mana were more powerful in this area, although Kyle expected that it was more a function of time spent in the area than recency.

“C.H.A.D.D., what are you picking up here?” The little drone was silent for a moment, then responded.

[DR. MAYHEW, SCANS HERE ARE STRANGE. I ONLY DETECT THE THREE BEETLES WE’VE BEEN TRACKING, ALTHOUGH SCANNERS ALSO PICK UP SOME STRANGE MANA READINGS. RESULTS ARE INCONCLUSIVE. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION.]

That’s not exactly reassuring, Kyle thought as he started walking down the incline to explore the wreckage.

He combed the area with C.H.A.D.D. in tow, still shocked by the amount of destruction they were seeing. Shocked, and if he was honest, a little excited. Whatever had done this was incredibly powerful, to be certain, but the thought of what he could learn from an opponent like this was enticing. Soon, Kyle found what he was looking for. Most of the ground below them was cracked cement, with some patches of soft earth. There, ripped into the ground, were massive footprints. Well, more accurately, claw prints.

Meter-wide holes were smashed into the ground, dragging slightly as whatever made them moved north. Kyle could feel the traces of mana around him as he stood between the tracks, nearly ten meters separating each trail. The creature that had caused them was absolutely massive, and as he looked at the trail of destruction it had left to the north, he spoke. “C.H.A.D.D., we’ve found our next target.”

[THAT’S ALL WELL AND GOOD, DR. MAYHEW, BUT BEFORE YOU GO RUSHING OFF, I’D HIGHLY ADVISE YOU DEAL WITH THE BEETLES COMING TO EAT YOU FIRST.]

With a start, Kyle turned to see that the small group of insects was only a few meters away. After making quick work of them, he looked at his pile of meat and sighed. A big part of him just wanted to chase after this thing and see if he could catch it before it got too far away, but given the trail it was leaving, it wouldn’t be too difficult to track down. Besides, he still had an item left on his list.

As the sun was beginning to set, Kyle looked at the ovens, all full of recently butchered beetles. There was still a lot that was in cold storage, but this should be enough cooked meat to last a good, long while on the road. While it cooked, he turned his attention to the problem he’d been working on for the last several weeks. It simply wasn’t feasible for him to continue to carry C.H.A.D.D. under his arm while he traveled, nor was it a reasonable solution to stash the drone away every time he got into a conflict.

Maybe he was being greedy, but Kyle wanted to find a solution that allowed his metallic companion to join him on the road and provide support in combat situations. At the same time, he wanted to make sure that C.H.A.D.D. was safe while he did it. His original idea had been to use the abdomen of the Infernal as a basket he could wear, but it was unfortunately too large. After practicing with Resonance on the journey back to Albaum, however, Kyle discovered an application that allowed him to build on the idea.

While practicing, two things became abundantly clear. First, Kyle wasn’t able to use Resonance to connect with materials that hadn’t conducted mana before, or more broadly, with purely inorganic matter. Concrete, steel, and stone were all off the list, but things that were no longer living, such as tree branches and beetle chitin, could be connected with the skill. The second important lesson was the way he was able to move mana. Simply linking to a valid target allowed him to use its mana, and his initial hope had proven true—he could also move the mana inside whatever he linked to. This included organic but separated materials.

It took a lot out of him to accomplish this—after all, broken tree branches didn’t have mana of their own—but he could push his own mana into the material. On its own, this was academically interesting, though ultimately useless. That is, until he had one fortunate accident. He was practicing linking to a tree branch when C.H.A.D.D. alerted him to a group of beetles approaching from behind, and his surprise in turning to face them led to him inadvertently rotating the mana he’d been infusing into the wood. This caused it to warp and snap, which he’d noticed after defeating the group of beetles. Further experimentation made him realize that rotation and flow were key when he was infusing his mana.

The theoretical applications were tremendous, and now that he was settled into his home in Albaum, he had the time and safety to explore these ideas meaningfully for the first time. Resting his hands on one of the plates he’d scavenged from the body of the Infernal, Kyle drew in a deep breath and activated Resonance. He felt his mana network connect to the surprisingly dense plate and intentionally circulated it through the material. Slowly and carefully, he began to rotate and twist the flowing energy, willing the material to shift. He felt the changes begin to take form and redoubled his efforts.

Opening his eyes nearly thirty minutes later, his face broke into a broad grin at the results of his handiwork—a woven basket-shaped piece of chitin perfectly sized for C.H.A.D.D. Looking at the pile of materials left to change was daunting, but now he had a functional proof of concept. Smile still on his face, Kyle grabbed the next plate and got to work.

Chapter 65

“Get behind me!” Garth barked, watching as Joseph overextended from his position. His frustration turned to fear as the pudgy man turned his back on the raider bearing down on him. Garth swore as he dispatched his opponent, turning to assist Joseph. I won’t make it in time, he thought, always too damn slow. He felt the growl building in his chest when a quick crack of electricity hit the raider, stunning him and knocking him back.

Mary Ellen screamed, “Hurry Joseph! What were you thinking? GET BACK HERE!” Joseph nearly tripped over himself as he ran toward the frightened young woman. Garth took a position, blocking the entry to the city, while the two young people made their way inside. The raider, who had been pursuing Joseph, took a couple steps back, his weapon raised against Garth.

Nierburg was on high alert after the attempted coup last week, and the last thing they expected was for bloody raiders to try and make a run at the city. Unfortunately, the state of high alert rattled the young people serving under Garth. Mary Ellen and Johannes stood frozen atop the battlements, paralyzed by their first violent skirmish. Garth and Terrance were holding their own and had kept the entryway clear, though Terrance had taken some injuries. Joseph, in his infinite wisdom, had come down to relieve the other man so he could get healing. Before Garth had an opportunity to tell Terrance to stop, he had already gone to Mary Ellen and Johannes’ location.

That on its own was still salvageable, but instead of standing back and using his magic, Joseph ran in like a drunk in a bar brawl. It hadn’t taken the pudgy man long to realize the sheer stupidity of his decision, but by that point, he had already put himself in danger. You damn idiot. Still, Garth breathed a sigh of relief that his squad was safe, even though he knew they’d be in for a major dressing down when this was over.

A group of seven raiders formed a semicircle around the entrance he was guarding, and a loud voice boomed out behind them. “You bastards set my brother up and got him killed.” A man well over two meters tall came walking up behind the group, wearing an ox skull on each hand. “I’m here to make you pay in⁠—”

Garth didn’t give the man a chance to continue. Pushing mana into his arms, Garth snarled as he released a horizontal Air Blade, bisecting the men in front of him, including the man he assumed was their leader. What a letdown. Part of him hoped that the man had the skills to back up his confidence, though that hope was dashed.

There was a moment of stillness as the surviving raiders processed the deaths of eight of their number, and Garth raised his battered blade to shoulder height, holding it parallel to the ground. “Whoever’s next, come.” He didn’t shout, he didn’t scream. His voice carried with it the weariness and steel backed by a lifetime of combat and death. It broke them, and the surviving raiders ran for the tree cover, pursued by the occasional bolt of electricity or flaming projectile.

Garth sighed as he made his way back into the safety of the city, his team waiting for him. Joseph stepped forward, shame written all over his face. “Sir, I know I…” Before he could finish, Johannes and Mary Ellen stepped up beside him. “Don’t blame him,” Johannes said. “It’s my fault. I should have watched closely, but when I saw the blood… I… I couldn’t. Don’t blame Joseph.”

“No, it was me,” Mary Ellen said, voice quivering. “I froze. If I didn’t you all would have had more support.”

Garth took all that in, noticing that Terrance hadn’t deigned to step forward with anything. Hell, he looked to be in perfectly good shape after getting healed up, though he hadn’t bothered to come back to the front to help. Meeting the man’s eyes for a moment, Garth shifted his gaze to the rest of the team. “This was a disappointment, but I’m not without some grace—this was the first time fighting other people.” Garth shot a glare at Terrance. “For most of you. In any event, there’s room to work. For now, go get some rest. What’s done is done.”

Garth watched as his team walked away, none of them having anything else to say. He let out a breath. What else did I expect? These aren’t soldiers. He made a point to check on Gwen from time to time, which had led to him spending more time with her mother, Stephanie. She was a great listener and had supported Garth with his transition into the role. He shared a lot with her, but she hadn’t pulled punches with him when he’d complain about his team, and though he hated to admit it, she was right. Civilians conscripted into a guard team would never be the same thing as a group of soldiers volunteering for this life. They’d been assigned because Central Administration found their skills couldn’t be better put to use elsewhere, which wasn’t a great thing at the end of the damn world. Stop it, you clod, you’re doing it again. He admonished himself for his internal gripes and fought to control his emotions as he made his way back to his home.

Letting out a breath as he collapsed into his chair, he felt his shoulders sag. He was exhausted. Fortunately, it hadn’t been his team on duty when the coup happened. It had been brutal. Apparently, the director of Central Communications, a man named Addison, had been planning to usurp DeRosa, and the result had been the deaths of a good number of Central Communications staff, as well as a senior member of Central Administration. Mr. Dross? Garth shook his head as he poured himself a glass of whisky. It wasn’t great; it burned all the way down and proved exactly what he needed. Garth knew that there was something he still needed to do, and though he was dreading it, he entered meditation. Soon, he saw his center and focused on it, words appearing in his mind’s eye.

GARTH BOLTSBURY. HUMAN, WARRIOR. LEVEL 40

VITALITY: 108

ENDURANCE: 108

STRENGTH: 135

DEXTERITY: 125

WILLPOWER: 40

INTELLIGENCE: 40

PERCEPTION: 80

FREE ATTRIBUTES: 4

With a thought, Garth split the points between Vitality and Endurance, bringing the totals up to 110 for each attribute. His focus was mainly on the three glowing, ghostly orbs that represented his next skill choice. Years ago, he would have been thrilled to make it all the way to Level 40, regardless of the choices available to him. Now, they felt like a weight around his neck. He knew the protocol; he’d read it over and over again in training and done it himself as an active member of Central Defense. He was to record the skill options and bring them to his direct supervisor—in this case, Commander Reynolds—to determine what was most needed in this moment. The exhaustion in his mind building, he looked at the first of his choices.

AIR BULWARK: Garth’s first impression of this skill was that it built on the foundation of Air Blade, but instead of an attack, it would use the compressed air as a barrier wherever Garth directed it. Interesting and a likely candidate for selection based on its high amount of utility and flexibility. Trying not to put his own thoughts into it too much, he moved on to the second orb.

RALLYING CRY: This time, Garth’s impression was of his mana diffusing into an area all around him. His impression was that it would provide a modest increase to the Vitality and Endurance of anybody within range that he wanted to target, although it would require a pretty significant amount of mana to keep up. Another that the Central Authority would be excited to have at their disposal. He looked at the last gray orb, his heart dreading what he would find there.

He’d long been told that his skill selection would adapt to what he’d been working on, what he needed. Air Bulwark and Rallying Cry were both examples of this, with Garth’s heavy use of his Air Blade skill and the time he’d spent leading others weaker than himself. Still, there was one thing he had done time and time again, wished so fervently for, and hated himself for lacking. Looking at the final orb, his heart sank as he saw the skill available to him.

FLEET FOOT: Garth’s impression was again built on the foundation of Air Blade, though in this case focused on his own body. The idea was simple. He would be able to use the technique for quick bursts of movement, likely in a straight line toward his target. It was perfect for what he’d been missing. If he had this skill, Carlyle would never have escaped him. He might have made it back to Duilleag in time to help Crystal. He wouldn’t be too slow to protect the people close to him. And he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that this wasn’t a skill that the Central Authority would select for him. It was a self-serving skill, one that didn’t gel with the idea of leading a team. Garth’s role was to lead and hold the line, and he had two fantastic options to help him do exactly that.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat in meditation, numb to the world around him. He knew what he should do; he had the form in front of him. He just couldn’t bring himself to put pen to paper. For some reason, his mind went back to the young man he’d traveled with. It had been so long since anybody talked about him, and Garth knew that he was most likely dead.

He thought about Crystal’s body, dead against that damned tree. If it was Kyle making the choice in Garth’s shoes, he knew what he’d pick. He exited meditation as he sat in his chair, pouring himself another finger of whisky. He’d given everything to work in Central Defense, done everything that had been asked of him. He'd played his role, the good soldier to the end. The liquor burned on the way down, his other hand trembling as he still held the pen. He thought about Gwen and her friend, Amalia. He thought about Stephanie. He thought about his team, as infuriating as they were. Damn. Eyes closed, Garth came to a decision.

Chapter 66

“What do you think, C.H.A.D.D.?” Kyle asked as he jumped over the smashed remains of a tree.

[DR. MAYHEW, THIS IS THE TWELFTH TIME YOU’VE ASKED ME TODAY. AS BEFORE, THE ACCOMMODATIONS ARE GENEROUS AND SATISFACTORY.]

“Are you sure? I thought I felt you jostle back there.”

[THERE IS CERTAINLY ROOM FOR A TIGHTER FIT, BUT THE MOVEMENTS ARE MINOR ENOUGH THAT THERE HAS BEEN NO DAMAGE.]

“Well, let me know if it gets worse. I’ve already got some ideas to improve the design when we’re done hunting this thing.” Kyle’s hands drifted to the thickly braided rope over each shoulder as he spoke, adjusting his new creation. The process had taken another whole day, but by using Resonance to shape the chitin plates, he had created a three-piece transportation solution for his drone companion. The first part was the basket that held the drone, which was just a little bit too large, allowing a little room for C.H.A.D.D. to wiggle inside. The second piece came over top of the basket and contained holes for the rope to go through.

This was much trickier than Kyle had initially anticipated, and he ruined quite a few of the plates he’d salvaged to get the fit right. The last portion of the construction wrapped laterally around the other two, with a protrusion that held the bottom of the basket and provided holes that lined up with the others. The resulting contraption was relatively tight against his back and kept both of his hands free. Kyle considered trying to make a weapon, but the chitin from the regular beetles they’d been fighting just wasn’t durable or conductive enough to allow him to manipulate the shape without turning too brittle. He could have used the remaining plates from the Infernal, but all the remaining resources there had portions of the natural array on them, and Kyle didn’t want to risk them for an experiment like this. Besides, there were a couple of other things he still hoped to try.

They had been following the path of destruction north for the bulk of the day, and Kyle made the decision to settle down for the evening. There were an abnormally large number of agitated beetles along the way, and though Kyle had no issues avoiding them, he knew it was probably not a smart idea to settle down right in the path that was drawing all the creatures.

They veered about a kilometer off the path left by their quarry, and Kyle felt exposed as he looked at the open horizon around him. Trees became much less abundant as they got farther north, with hearty shrubs and long grass replacing the dense forests that Kyle had gotten used to. Auric Perception didn’t reveal any nearby abnormalities, but before making camp, he looked over his shoulder at his drone companion. “Are you picking up anything dangerous, C.H.A.D.D.?”

[NOTHING APPEARING ON THE SCANNER AT THIS POINT, DR. MAYHEW. BUT IF YOU’D BE WILLING TO TURN A CIRCLE, I COULD GET BETTER READINGS.]

That was one of the drawbacks of Kyle’s creation—C.H.A.D.D.’s sensors had a bit of a blind spot when they tried to scan through Kyle’s body. Obliging the drone with a slow rotation, he got the all-clear. Despite the lack of any threats, he still felt a sense of general unease while unslinging the C.H.A.D.D. pack from his shoulders and setting it next to him. Other than transporting his companion, the C.H.A.D.D. pack served one other crucial function.

He opened the top component above the basket holding his drone to see his neatly stacked supplies—bandages, a spare set of scrubs, three full canteens, and some dried meat. Kyle couldn’t help but feel proud of what he’d managed to create. Looking at the stars in the cloudless sky, he thought about his grandfather’s last command. Survive. He could still hear Clark’s voice in his head, the memory etched as if in steel.

It had been troubling him for a while, and watching the slow rotation of the stars gave him time to reflect. His memories of his grandfather were of a kind, doting old man. Reconciling that with the fierce soldier who had Valentine’s admiration was difficult. As much as he was a part of Clark’s legacy, so too were the atrocities committed by Liberation. Their criticism of the Central Authority wasn’t misplaced, though Kyle couldn’t—wouldn’t—look past their methods. Sighing, he closed his eyes. There would be time to scratch that itch later. For now, rest. He had a monster to hunt, after all.

The evening passed uneventfully, and they were traveling again before dawn broke. The trail continued to prove easy to follow until it led to the side of a red rock cliff. The trees were almost completely gone by now, and Kyle marveled at the sight before him. The cliff had deep holes drilled into it where the creature’s legs penetrated the stone, gouging out massive pieces of rock in its passing. The lip of the cliff had crumbled down, a testament to the sheer bulk of the monster that had scaled it.

There looked to be a road off to the left that would eventually lead him to the top. Kyle had no intention of taking that road. With a grin, Kyle activated Haste. He felt the familiar mana pulsing ahead, no longer just a trace. His quarry was here, and he was ready for it. Running toward the wall, Kyle used the holes in the cliff as handholds, vaulting himself up and over the top in short order. His grin faded as he took in the scene before him. [DR. MAYHEW, THAT’S A LOT OF BEETLES,] C.H.A.D.D. added helpfully.

At the edge of his vision, Kyle could see an old, run-down mining town, the damaged remains of the old wooden buildings stubbornly hanging on despite the calamity they’d endured. But for all their resilience, they were currently in the process of being destroyed by a massive swarm of insects. Kyle’s Auric Perception was going haywire at the sheer volume of different creatures he was detecting, and underpinning all the bugs and mana was something… different. It felt familiar in some ways, but it was agitating to him, putting his teeth on edge. The insects clearly felt the same way, as many of the groups were attacking one another for no reason.

The sound of clicking mandibles and an angry buzz immediately grabbed Kyle’s attention, and he turned to face a group of seven bulldog-sized wasps flying directly toward his position. His back to the cliff, Kyle didn’t hesitate. With Haste still active, he darted directly toward the creatures. The closest of the wasps attempted to sting him, and the unfamiliar movement of the stinger nearly caught Kyle off guard. Too used to fighting the beetles. I was watching the mandibles too much. Kyle admonished himself for the mistake as he sidestepped and grabbed the rapidly-flapping wings, arresting the wasp’s movement as he twisted his hips and slammed it to the ground.

He was going to follow-up with a stomp but had to disengage as the other wasps were now too close. Exhaling slowly, he took his stance. While his fighting style was meant to be used with a baton, it was still more than effective unarmed. Time seemed to slow down as he activated Resonance, taking advantage of the flexibility provided by the skill to field test something he’d been working on for a while. Focusing, he concentrated the energy from Haste into his right arm. As the wasps approached, his arm darted out over a dozen times. Each strike landed with extreme precision and force, cracking chitin and knocking the pursuing insects out of the air. An incredible wave of pain surged through his arm as a result, making Kyle grit his teeth as he approached his fallen enemies, finishing each with a vicious stomp.

Satisfied he was safe for now, Kyle took a steadying breath as he channeled Heal into his damaged arm. It hung limp at his side, muscles overloaded from the intense burst of energy. Looking back in the direction of the small mining town, Kyle evaluated his options. The ghost town was still literally crawling with insects, and he didn’t relish the idea of trying to fight his way through all of them. I’ll have to be careful trying to hunt the big one. It could be hiding anywhere. The thought barely finished forming before he heard a loud crash, the skeleton of what had likely been a hotel crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust.

As the air cleared, Kyle got his first look at the monster he'd been tracking. The beetle was absolutely massive, dwarfing any living creature that Kyle had ever seen. He estimated it stood nearly five meters tall at the shoulder and was easily three times as long. Its chitin was lustrous, reflective like a sheet of black steel. A single, magnificent horn protruded from the front of the beetle’s head, with two similar, smaller horns jutting out above where its eyes should be, making the monster look like a triceratops. Six massive, clawed legs drove the creature forward as it smashed into the remains of another building on the street, knocking it flat just like the hotel before. Smaller creatures between it and its target were either tossed aside or smashed into paste, and even at this distance, Kyle could almost feel the ground shaking as it stomped about. Looking at the destruction caused by his opponent, Kyle could only think two words. Absolutely perfect.

Chapter 67

Kyle felt a strong impulse to rush in and join the melee, but he kept himself in check with a breath. There was something more going on here that was stirring these creatures up, and that gave him a niggling feeling of doubt as he observed from a distance. Heal would take a little longer to get his arm back to perfect condition, and with no more approaching creatures this provided an opportunity to watch events unfold. A wide array of mutated insects were attacking one another, but none were as successful as the monstrous beetle rampaging through the town.

Kyle wasn’t sure what drove the other creatures to even attempt attacking the thing, because no challenger even managed to scratch the armor-like chitin that covered the beast. He was more confident now than ever that there was something else happening—there was no rational explanation for so many of the insects to throw their lives away. “C.H.A.D.D., what are you picking up from the area ahead?” Kyle was intentional with his wording, not wanting to color the drone’s perspective with his own bias.

[DR. MAYHEW, THE MANA SIGNATURES EMANATING ARE QUITE OVERWHELMING. A DIVERSE ARRAY OF DIFFERENT TYPES OF CREATURES ARE PRESENT, THOUGH THE BULK SEEM TO BE DECEASED.]

“Thanks, C.H.A.D.D. What do you—" Kyle was cut off as the drone continued.

[CAUSE OF DEATH FOR VIRTUALLY ALL OF THEM IS SEVERE BLUNT FORCE TRAUMA. LIKELY CAUSED BY BEING SMASHED BETWEEN THAT LARGE CREATURE AND ANOTHER STRUCTURE. I’D ADVISE TRYING NOT TO GET CRUSHED, DR. MAYHEW.]

“Very helpful, C.H.A.D.D. I’ll keep that in mind,” Kyle replied.

[IF YOU FEEL IT NECESSARY TO SET ME ASIDE FOR THE DURATION OF YOUR ENGAGEMENT, I WOULD COMPLETELY UNDERSTAND.]

“You just don’t want to get squished.”

[QUITE ACCURATE, DR. MAYHEW.]

“Well, I’ll do my best. No promises.” C.H.A.D.D. had a witty reply, but Kyle wasn’t listening. His arm was fully recovered, and he’d seen enough of the creature to feel confident in his plan. It was powerful, easily outstripping the physical strength that Cornelius had brought to bear by virtue of size and strength alone. Kyle was also impressed by its sheer durability. Dozens upon dozens of stingers, claws, and mandibles had tried to find purchase in its chitin armor with no success. His mind was already racing, thinking of different ways to use such a durable material.

Before he consciously realized it, he was walking toward the creature. Likewise, the elephant-sized beetle had taken notice of him, hesitating for a moment before slowly shambling toward Kyle. When the distance between them had shrunk to about fifty meters, they stopped, facing each other. In the back of his mind, Kyle realized what a ridiculous sight this would have been to an observer, a man staring down a monster the size of a house. Despite that, Kyle felt a connection to the creature.

It gave off the familiar aura he’d detected for so long in the caves, but somehow even wilder, more intense. Given that it had stopped to observe him, Kyle stopped suppressing the mana that pulsed through him, every bit matching the potency of the creature before him. While he was by no measure the match of the beast in terms of strength or durability, Kyle’s observations confirmed what he’d hoped.

The pulse of mana Kyle emitted was the starting gun. With an angry hissing sound, the massive beetle lowered its horns toward him, charging at its maximum speed. Haste was already active, and for all its power the beetle might as well have been standing still. Kyle wasn’t nearly as strong as the beetle, nor was he as resilient. He lacked the size and destructive power that the monster could bring to bear. That didn’t mean he was any less specialized in his own way. Adrenaline coursing through his body, Kyle darted to his opponent’s right side. He watched the beetle’s momentum carry it past him, and it struggled to stop and turn around to face him again.

The young Healer used that opportunity to close the distance, finding himself behind the monster in the blink of an eye. To confirm his observations, Kyle gave the shiny chitin a solid punch. Pain blossomed in the knuckles of his right hand, running up his forearm and into his shoulder. It felt like punching a sheet of solid metal, and a quick visual inspection showed him that the chitinous armor was completely unharmed. That’s about right, Kyle thought. If the last one was the Infernal, this one’s the Wall. Kyle jumped back as the Wall finished its turn to face him, mandibles still chittering angrily. Unsurprisingly, the creature lowered its horns once again and charged.

Just as before, Kyle dodged to the right, this time closing in on the Wall as soon as it passed him. Running to the abdomen of the monstrous beetle, he rested the palm of his right hand against the sun-warmed shell. He activated Resonance, feeling the mana of the creature moving in unison with his own. While the flow was the same, trying to establish a connection was considerably more difficult. He rotated the mana in his palm to try to match the pathways he could feel from within the creature, but the changing flow of the creature’s mana made his work more difficult than he expected. Practicing on tree branches and inert chitin was one thing, but connecting to a mana network that was in active use was an entirely different ball game. He was able to keep his palm resting on the creature for only a couple of seconds before disengaging, the Wall attempting to smash him into the ground with one of its six massive legs. Kyle jumped out of the way, gaining distance from the huge creature. The beast turned to face him once again, and the process repeated.

Dozens of similar clashes played out, with neither side injuring the other. Kyle had no illusions how things would end if he lost concentration—any injury from this massive creature would likely be far too much to heal—but despite the danger, he found himself enjoying the puzzle before him. When he was selecting this skill, he had theorized that it could be used in a wide variety of applications—and he’d been proven right. A major part of his inspiration came from treating the survivors he’d encountered, the stress of their constant exposure to the chaotic ambient mana having caused noticeable internal damage.

It wasn’t too radical to think that manipulating mana in an object could physically change it. After all, that was essentially what Kyle did whenever he used Heal or Regeneration. That led him to the idea of connecting with inert objects and using his mana to reshape them into something more useful. It wasn’t easy, though eventually Kyle got used to creating a “key” with his mana that would fit the inert pathways of the materials he shaped. His many failures as he practiced taught him another important lesson: It was much easier to break something than shape it.

The countless shattered tree branches were a testament to the difficulty of doing what he had hoped, which led him to the application he was now testing. One of his biggest weaknesses in his encounters against strong enemies had been his inability to land decisive blows, but what if he didn’t need to? What if all he needed was a touch to end his fights? The Wall was the perfect specimen to test the theory—it was both an unstoppable force and an immovable object, in many ways reminiscent of Cornelius.

Kyle remembered well the feeling of frustration and powerlessness against the other man, unable to do anything other than run. Never again. Staring down the monstrous beetle after another engagement, Kyle didn’t feel any of that now. Instead, he was filled with a blend of anticipation and calm—the moment of stillness after jumping off a diving board. He had started down this road willingly, and a part of him knew that overcoming this trial in this moment would mark a turning point for him.

The Wall charged at Kyle, and once again he positioned himself to counter. His introspection had cost him. The large beetle was closing the distance faster than he’d expected. Kyle still comfortably dodged in time, though he was unable to finish forming the mana in his palm to match what he’d identified in the creature. His palm slapped against the creature’s thick armor, and instead of having a solid key trying to connect, Kyle’s mana was rotating but pliable, more like a twisting putty. And it clicked.

Kyle felt the mana in his hand get swept up in the flow within the Wall, being bent and turned in the exact way it needed to in order to match the flow. He felt the massive amounts of vital energy within the creature, the power that it held within. Then he had to break the connection, drawing his hand back as he disengaged the monster once again. Pieces fell into place as Kyle considered what had just happened. He wasn’t confident that he could replicate it consciously, so it was time to deploy his secret weapon. “C.H.A.D.D., did you record what happened with that last attempt?”

[YES, DR. MAYHEW.]

“Thank you, C.H.A.D.D. Let me know when I’ve got it right.” With that, Kyle activated Resonance and began manipulating the mana in his hand. He didn’t bother trying to strike the beetle again, which allowed him much more freedom in his evasion, easily keeping distance between himself and the Wall as he focused on the skill in his right hand. It was tricky work; fortunately, C.H.A.D.D. was well equipped at this point to offer feedback.

[ROTATION IS 38% TOO FAST, DR. MAYHEW. THE PATTERN OF THE MANA IS TOO TIGHT, IT NEEDS TO BE MORE RELAXED. NO, NOT LIKE THAT, YOU’RE TOO RELAXED NOW…] This continued for nearly fifteen minutes as Kyle avoided the monster chasing him, all the remaining buildings in the ghost town reduced to rubble in the pursuit. Despite the cooler fall weather, Kyle was a sweaty mess. Finally, he heard the message from C.H.A.D.D. as he felt the mana stabilize.

[THAT’S A CLOSE APPROXIMATION, DR. MAYHEW.] Without a word, not daring to deactivate the skill, Kyle turned toward the beetle on his heels. He dodged the horn as it dug a deep furrow into the earth, placing his hand on the front right leg as he passed. Kyle was prepared for the feeling of connection, and this time, the moment he felt the link, he pushed with all the Willpower he could bring to bear. He felt the resistance from inside the creature, which was demolished before Kyle’s resolve. In a battle of physical power, the Wall was the clear victor. In a battle of Willpower? That wasn’t even a question.

Kyle took command of the mana inside the creature, drawing some of it into himself to replenish his own reserves while twisting the mana coursing directly under his palm. The results were immediate, a loud crack breaking the air as the leg buckled. The Wall hissed, and Kyle was forced to break the connection as he created distance again. He watched the beetle turn to face him, compensating for its injured leg. Kyle smiled as he squared off against his opponent, feeling his mana reserves surging. It was time to end this.

Chapter 68

The Wall had taken its first injury, but it was far from out of the fight. It charged at Kyle again, speed hardly impeded by its injured leg. Unfortunately for the large beetle, it lacked the flexibility it would need to change the outcome against its opponent. Kyle effortlessly dodged, though when he struck the Wall with his palm, he didn’t get the response he was looking for.

[TOO RIGID, DR. MAYHEW. MAINTAIN THE SPEED OF THE ROTATION, LEAVE MORE PLIABILITY IN THE FORM OF THE MANA.]

The next exchange went much the same, with Kyle unable to replicate the connection using Resonance. This is a lot harder than I anticipated, Kyle thought as he finished a third unsuccessful attempt. There’s not much wiggle room; it’s either correct or it’s not. A fourth exchange passed, and a wave of elation passed through Kyle as he felt the connection to the Wall get established as his hand pressed against the beetle’s injured leg. Another push with his Willpower behind it, and a resounding crack much louder than the previous one broke the air. He felt his connection abruptly weaken, though he didn’t stand still to investigate.

The Wall was moving, and Kyle once again gained his distance. Watching as the creature turned to face him, he saw the lower half of the right leg had snapped off at the joint, the telephone-pole sized appendage falling to the ground where Kyle had just been standing. Once again focusing on the mana in his hand, he watched intently as the monster lowered its horn and charged, this time clearly hampered as it closed the distance.

The smart thing to do would have been to wear the creature down with continued strikes until it couldn’t move, but that didn’t sit well with Kyle. Causing intentional, prolonged suffering to anything was just against his nature. Strengthening his resolve, he felt the mana moving in his hand. It felt right. Instead of diving aside, Kyle narrowly sidestepped the large horn attempting to skewer him. The horn above the creature’s eye tore into his side as he jumped onto the massive beetle’s head. The amplified pain from Haste almost caused him to lose focus and fall, and he scrambled to keep his grip on the monster to avoid getting trampled.

The Wall thrashed, shaking its head back and forth as Kyle fought to keep his position. The movements grew more and more violent, the loud clicking of mandibles audible below him. Kyle was bleeding freely from the tear in his side, though Regeneration was already working on repairing the damage. He rested his right palm on the center of the creature’s skull. It was warm, smooth to the touch. “Thank you.” He knew the Wall couldn’t understand him, but he felt like it was appropriate to give thanks. This creature had been the perfect opponent to test the applications he'd theorized, and he knew that when he absorbed the red gem upon its death he would gain even more.

With his palm steady, he activated Resonance. He felt the connection as his mana was linked to the monster’s, once again overwhelming it. Kyle held firm despite the beetle’s thrashing, allowing the connection to flow far deeper. In just a couple of seconds, his mana flowed through the entirety of the creature’s body, though he focused his attention on its head. He could feel the energy moving through the channels, felt it trying to fight back and seize control. A swift, powerful surge of mana followed, and the beetle collapsed to the ground, dead.

Kyle vaulted over the unmoving creature’s horn, facing his opponent. His theory was correct, he was the perfect match against an opponent like this. Fast enough to avoid the attacks, enough endurance to force a battle of attrition, and now an ability he could use to turn the tables of a fight. Not bad at all.

He absently placed a hand on his injured side, channeling a Heal as he watched the red energy coalesce from the creature, forming the largest gem he’d seen yet. The deep crimson pulsed in the rhythm that was now familiar to him, and he braced for the pain as he reached out his hand to touch it. As before, the gem crumbled to dust at his touch, flowing into his outstretched arm and through his body. The sensation of thousands of needles struck, and then his world went black.

Kyle was prepared for the visions, and this time his perspective didn’t drift, but rather looked at the whole of the tapestry. He felt the ancient, overwhelming presence as he looked over the arc of his life, waiting to be addressed. Unlike the last two times, it said nothing, and Kyle was content to wait. He remembered well the words it spoke to him after defeating the Infernal, and he was confident that nothing good would come from antagonizing this ancient creature. He was quite confident it could crush him if it wanted to, and he wasn’t going to do anything to give it the opportunity.

As he sat in silence, he focused on the tapestry of perspectives laid out before him. An odd thought came to him. In many ways, the lives of these creatures were a perfect representation of the last command his grandfather had given him. The only driving motivation they had was survival. That looked different for each—for some it was the survival of a hive, for others it was the pursuit of surviving as the individual. In each case, it was a pure expression of that simple, instinctive tenet. He reflected on that for a while and thought about it in the context of what he’d accomplished since his grandfather died. He was drawn to two different visions in particular—an ant colony and a grasshopper.

The ants were valiantly fighting against an invading colony, thousands dying until the invaders were ultimately rebuffed. He got a vague sense from watching them—not pride, per se, but a feeling of accomplishment. No matter what they were faced with, no matter the cost, they would give everything to ensure the survival of the colony. It didn’t matter in the least that their survival was built on the bodies of countless comrades; it was simply how it was. This was a significant contrast to the grasshopper. It was surrounded by many of its brethren, though not out of any sense of community, but because it gave each of them a better chance to survive. He watched as dozens fell, struck down by a seemingly endless wave of threats. Spiders, beetles, wasps, and birds all hunted the grasshoppers with ease. Despite their losses, however, the grasshoppers survived. For each that fell, another avoided the threat. It was the survival of the individual through the sacrifice of the collective.

These starkly different realities painted pictures that honestly frightened Kyle. The colony reminded him of the methods and values of the Central Authority. If everybody sacrificed willingly, they could overcome great odds. At the same time, it had no room for those like Kyle who fell outside the norm. On the other hand, he had to question his current path. He knew that C.H.A.D.D. was right, that it was important for him to grow stronger to make it in this strange new reality. What was the cost? How many refugees had died or been enslaved because he hadn’t been there for them? How many died to roving beetles or monsters like the Wall because he hadn’t been there to help?

Kyle knew it wasn’t his responsibility—at least not directly—but he couldn’t help but wonder how high the cost would grow the longer he chose to stay away. He hadn’t checked his level, but he was fairly certain at this point that he’d gained at least a few since departing Albaum. As far as awakened went, he was at a stage that virtually no living person had achieved in decades. With the advent of his new skills, Kyle had the power to make a difference. That brought with it an entirely different set of issues, which were brought to mind as his attention shifted back to the presence that still seemed to be lurking around him. How many tyrants were created because they just wanted to help? At that thought, the visions concluded, and his eyes opened.

His body hurt, as Kyle expected it would after absorbing the strange essence from the Wall. It was slightly different than the times before, this time the pain being accompanied by a voracious hunger. He was eager to enter meditation to better understand his gains before snacking, but a sense of unease stopped him. Focusing on his Auric Perception, the cause became clear. He was still detecting faint pulses of mana, and they weren’t coming from the body of the large beetle in front of him. [DR. MAYHEW, YOU’RE AWAKE. YOU SHOULD⁠—]

“I know, C.H.A.D.D., I feel it too. There’s something else around here. It’s faint, but I know it’s nearby.”

[THAT’S WHAT I’M TRYING TO TELL YOU, DR. MAYHEW. THE SOURCE OF THE PULSES IS DIRECTLY BEHIND YOU.]

Chapter 69

Gregory Valentine read the letter from Nierburg once more, disbelief mixing with rage. Damn it. He breathed slowly, not letting his anger get the better of him. They were still in the best position they’d had in decades, and rash decisions now could compromise everything. So, he continued his measured breathing, waiting for his guests to arrive. Tucker was the first to enter the office, followed shortly after by Carlyle. Cornelius was the last, but that was hardly a surprise given the beating he’d taken at Valentine’s hands after he’d returned. The man had mostly recovered—Gregory made a point not to cross the line with his discipline—but Cornelius was still struggling to get around.

Meeting each man’s eyes, Gregory broke the silence. “Mr. Flotsam is dead. Killed in a botched coup attempt in Nierburg. With Susan’s passing, that leaves you three as my only senior members in the field.” He let that hang in the air for a moment, gauging each man’s reaction. Carlyle seemed largely unbothered, but then and again, he hadn’t been with the organization long enough to appreciate the full impact. Cornelius and Tucker both looked shocked, and Valentine wanted to make sure that Carlyle understood the importance.

“Eric Dross—Mr. Flotsam—was our longest tenured asset in the Central Authority. I knew him before I left, and he was slowly climbing the ranks and feeding us crucial information. I don’t know what this crap is about a coup, but I can guarantee you Eric had nothing to do with it. That means one of two things—he was found out by DeRosa and executed, or there’s another faction making a play for Nierburg.”

He met Cornelius’s eyes as he let his statement sink in. The large man didn’t flinch, though Valentine picked up the hint of fear in his eyes. Valentine let the gaze linger for a moment before continuing, “We know the Mayhew brat had connections in Nierburg, which only complicates things further.” This time, Cornelius did flinch. Good. “In any event, that puts us in a position I’d rather not be in. We still have some eyes inside, but nobody with meaningful access.”

Valentine pointed to the center of the table, gesturing toward a map of the region. “We took losses after Cornelius’s attempted acquisition of Mayhew, though our second attempt was able to secure the encampment. There are three other meaningful raider encampments in the area, and none have powerful awakened. Furthermore, they are currently fragmented, bickering amongst themselves. If we can secure them, we will get valuable manpower that we can deploy to the fields to stand up our mid-term food solution. That would also give us a forward base closer to Nierburg, reducing the risk for our agents to get us information. Cornelius, Tucker, I want each of you to take a detachment of thirty soldiers and make it happen. Once you’re established, we’ll have workers escorted by another detachment.”

“Yes, sir!” the two men said in unison. Valentine knew the situation would leave Duilleag poorly defended, but at this point, the workers here had been thoroughly broken in. A token force would be plenty to keep them in line, and having forces nearby would be a major benefit. Even if they didn’t have the numbers to take Nierburg, a couple of well placed “raider” attacks would go a long way toward damaging morale and undermining the Central Authority’s promise of safety. It wouldn’t be enough to just overthrow the power structure. For change to happen, the people under it needed to want it to change. Showing the rottenness festering inside their own government would be the kick many would need to want it shed.”

“Sir, what are my orders?” Carlyle looked on expectantly, hope clear in his eyes. Valentine didn’t have time for hope. “Your orders are to stay here and wait for orders. This isn’t something for an untested whelp to do. Stay here, train, and if by some miracle I have a use for you, I’ll let you know.” His tone was harder than iron, and Carlyle took the hint. “Then I’ll be on my way, sir.” With that, the gaunt young man left the room, leaving Tucker and Cornelius still standing. In normal circumstances, Cornelius would have made some sort of snide comment. Fortunately, he had the sense to hold his tongue. The young man had promise, but Valentine knew that he wasn’t ready for an undertaking like this. Despite his skills, he was impulsive. His eagerness to impress could be as much of a liability as an asset, and it wasn’t a risk that he was willing to take.

After watching Carlyle depart, Valentine turned his attention back to the two men still standing in the office. “Understand something, both of you. This is the closest we have ever been to throwing off the yoke of the Central Authority. Any major missteps at this point could cost us that opportunity entirely. I don’t want to hear about showboating. I don’t want to hear about powerful awakened taking the encampments. I don’t want to hear anything at all. You take care of this cleanly. You take care of this efficiently. You don’t let survivors escape, you put them to work. There’s no room for negotiation on this, am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Gunfire broke the air like thunder, and the running man fell to the ground, unmoving. Tucker holstered his pistol before walking over to his mountainous companion who stood in the middle of a pile of corpses, axe held over his right shoulder. “You got the straggler? That should be all of them, then.” Cornelius’s booming voice was almost as loud as the gunshot, and Tucker simply nodded in response. Even if they had been normal awakened, these bandit camps were easy to clear out. With both he and Cornelius over Level 40, their enemies didn’t have a chance. They fell on the encampments like a bolt from the blue, Tucker picking off key targets and directing concentrated fire from their ranged troops. Cornelius and the spearmen took advantage of the distractions and fell upon the crude earthen fortifications, the large man leading the charge with his axe and monstrous strength.

It only took one blow to demolish the defenses at each of their targets, allowing the spearmen to break through and set up a defensive position. If the raiders with the military-grade arms were still present, they may have put up a better fight. Unfortunately for them, Valentine had arrived on that battlefield personally several weeks prior. Even though Tucker was no stranger to bloodshed, watching their leader tear through the enemy like a whirlwind had been shocking. His speed and power were both at the apex, but what was most clear to Tucker as he watched the man fight was his pure love of the carnage.

The first Ranger skill Tucker possessed was Telescope, a simple skill that allowed him to more easily track targets based on his Perception. He was providing ranged support as Valentine engaged in close combat, and he could still remember the smile on his leader’s face as he moved from raider to raider, blades flashing as they reaped the lives of the targets before them. An involuntary shudder ran through Tucker at the memory. That wasn’t a battle, it was wholesale slaughter.

Tucker had joined Liberation because he’d been disenfranchised by the beast culling perpetrated by the Central Authority. Tracking awakened beasts in the wild, hunting them, and killing them while administrators grew fat behind their desks didn’t sit well with him. If he was going to put his life on the line for something, he wanted to be somewhere that truly appreciated power. He wanted to be led by people who knew power. Watching Gregory Valentine in his element proved that he’d thrown in with the right group. If the right path was decided by power, that spectacle confirmed it for Tucker. Against power like that, what other path could he choose?

For all his talk of higher ideals, he knew that Valentine was equally motivated by the opportunity to shed blood. In that, he wouldn’t be disappointed. All told they had killed nearly one hundred of the raiders and found almost five times that number that the bandits had kept in slavery. They were being rounded up by the soldiers under their command, and they had already sent word to Valentine that the additional soldiers and workers weren’t necessary. The slaves they liberated would be all the workforce they needed.

Chapter 70

Kyle jumped to his feet at the revelation, panic gripping his heart. How the hell did something sneak up on us? How long was I out? He spun quickly, looking for the creature that had been stalking him. The ruins of flattened buildings surrounded him, dust still forming clouds around some of the largest debris. Still, he couldn’t see any sign of a pursuing insect. There! Kyle’s Auric Perception once again picked up faint pulses behind him, and he whirled while jumping back, sure he evaded an attack. When he saw only air, the panic rose. Can this thing turn invisible? What the hell is it? Feeling another pulse behind him, Kyle turned once again, finding nothing in the space where he felt the presence.

[DR. MAYHEW, WHATEVER IT IS YOU’RE DOING, I DON’T THINK IT’S TERRIBLY PRODUCTIVE.]

“Not now, C.H.A.D.D.! Unless you have a way to see invisible things, I need to focus.”

There. Kyle felt the pulse again, rapidly turning and striking where he’d felt it. His palm struck empty space, and his panic was well on the way to morphing into full-blown fear. He’d confronted a variety of monsters and had given considerable thought to the different matches he may run into. Big, slow, physically powerful enemies were a great match; worst case, he could run away. Casters like the Infernal were much trickier but could be managed if they were more physically delicate. But the matchup he was most concerned with was what he suspected he was against now. Fast, stealthy, hard-hitting types were his worst nightmare. Too quick to easily evade and striking too hard to effectively heal, he could quickly find himself overwhelmed.

Another pulse was met with another quick turn, fists flying harmlessly through the air as Kyle attempted to attack his pursuer. His eyes drifted longingly to the fallen body of the Wall. There was so much he could do with the incredibly strong carapace, but it wasn’t worth dying over. With a breath of resignation, Kyle fully activated Haste before running in the direction of the cliff he’d climbed to get to this small town. As he ran, the sense of wrongness and fear grew. Whatever this thing was, it was easily keeping pace with him. He pushed more mana into the skill and felt a cold sweat as the pulses continued behind him, not gaining any distance. His mind went into overdrive. I can’t find it. I can’t outrun it. Think, dammit. What can you do? An idea blossomed, though he had little confidence it would work.

He veered away from the cliff, running instead at his top speed toward one of the clouds of dust still lingering in the air. The quick turn caused an audible crack as C.H.A.D.D. shifted dramatically inside the C.H.A.D.D. pack. “Sorry about that!” Running through the cloud, Kyle watched the dust closely. He saw it ripple and swirl where he passed through, and hoped to see a similar trail near him. Nothing was there. Slowing, Kyle noticed that the pulse of mana skipped a beat. Then two. Well, crap. Whatever it was, it could control its mana, too. That only left one option.

Steeling himself, Kyle took his stance and waited. When he felt claws bite into him, he’d know where the creature was. Then all that would be left was hoping his healing would hold out long enough to kill it before he died. He hunkered his head down and raised his shoulders to better cover his neck, eyes darting from side to side. Nothing happened.

[DR. MAYHEW, WHY ARE YOU STANDING STILL?] He didn’t want to lose focus, but the waiting was fraying his nerves.

“I’m waiting for whatever was following us to attack. I can’t sense it, I can’t find it, and I can’t outrun it. This is the best option I’ve got.”

[THAT WON’T BE AN ISSUE, DR. MAYHEW. THE INSECT THAT WAS GIVING OUT THE PULSES IS DEAD.]

“I think I’d know if I killed it, C.H.A.D.D.”

[YOU CERTAINLY WOULD, DR. MAYHEW, EXCEPT IN THIS CASE YOU DIDN’T KILL IT. I DID.]

“WHAT?”

[TO BE MORE PRECISE, YOUR JOSTLING AND TURNING HELPED ME TO KILL IT. BUT IT IS DEAD, AND I DESERVE THE CREDIT. IT ALSO RELEASED A STRANGE ORB, HOW INTERESTING⁠—]

“C.H.A.D.D. DON’T TOUCH THAT!” Kyle’s outburst and shock at what the drone said caused him to shake, and his heart fell at the next words from the drone.

[YOU REPEATEDLY BUMPED ME INTO IT, AND… OH MY, THAT’S… UNEXPEC…TED] The drone’s voice trailed off.

Kyle threw caution to the wind, kneeling down as he unslung the C.H.A.D.D. pack. It took a moment for him to undo the various clasps and to untie the rope, and as he finally peered inside, he saw remnants of a familiar red energy flowing into the drone. C.H.A.D.D. was completely inert, just as Kyle had been each time he’d absorbed the crimson essence. He also saw the crushed body of a small insect caught between C.H.A.D.D.’s metallic hull and the carapace lining of the pack. Gingerly, he took it between his fingers and held it up to the light.

The creature was a bit larger than most insects he’d come across, though barely. It was mottled brown in color, about the size of the palm of his hand. The legs were almost cartoonishly thin for the plump body, and its head had two bulbous compound eyes. The most bizarre feature was the proboscis sticking out of its face, almost looking like the trunk of an elephant, but with two thin antennae sticking out on each side of the protrusion. Its thin chitin was cracked, the creature having been smashed during Kyle’s quick movements.

Kyle looked at the dead body of the strange little bug as a sense of unease built in him. All of the heavily mutated insects he’d encountered had some sort of specialty. There was something familiar about the sense he was getting from the creature, and his mind went back to his confrontation with the fly. Suddenly, it clicked. The strange behavior from all the mutated creatures was in some ways reminiscent of the odd swarm of beetles he’d faced in Albaum those months ago. As he focused on it, he could sense a barely perceptible aura still coming off the corpse of the strange insect.

It wasn’t a pulse of mana, nor was it necessarily a scent. Pheromones. Now that he had placed it, he could detect the lingering presence all across the destroyed town. This thing was using the Wall to crush other insects. Kyle’s realization was simple but profound. This little thing didn’t have the ability to hunt or fight on its own, so it used what it was good at. It would pick a strong ally, stir up other creatures to fight, and then profit off the carnage, likely even absorbing the essence that it scavenged. With the Wall dead, it came over to the next best thing—me.

It was unfortunate for the small creature that he hadn’t made a more form-fitting accommodation for C.H.A.D.D., it might have survived a bit longer. Speaking of… he looked back into the pack as he discarded the body of the creature, examining his companion for movement. If he focused his Auric Perception, he could tell that there was familiar energy moving inside the drone, so he figured it would just be a matter of time before it recovered. Hang in there, little guy.

Kyle’s head snapped up as his focused sense picked up some faint but persistent disruptions. Securing C.H.A.D.D. inside the pack and hoisting it back onto his shoulders, he got clear of the plumes of dust to get a better view. The sensation grew stronger, and his eyes confirmed what he’d suspected. Three different groups of insects were approaching: a large swarm of weak creatures from the north, a handful of shambling horse-sized beetles from the west, and a single fast-moving wasp with a thin body and dangerous-looking stinger from the east.

Nothing came from the south, at least that he could detect. If he chose to retreat that way, he’d also be getting closer to Albaum. It was the safest decision. Probably the right decision. He looked longingly at the body of the Wall, still in the same place Kyle left it. Armor made from its chitin would be a massive benefit. C.H.A.D.D. would be better protected. Military-grade rifles wouldn’t pose a meaningful threat against it. Anything short of high explosives would probably struggle to substantially damage it. I fought too hard to leave the damn thing here. With a sigh, Kyle turned to the fast-approaching wasp. You first.

Chapter 71

As Kyle watched the wasp approach, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment at how weak the creature was. It looked intimidating, though that was likely more a function of wasps in general being designed specifically to ruin a person’s day. Despite its admittedly impressive speed, the creature was frail. Kyle easily avoided its first attempt to sting him, grabbing the base of its two left wings in the process. He twisted his hips, intending to slam the wasp to the ground. Instead, he felt a brief moment of resistance before the wings ripped free, their former owner spinning through the air and landing hard, mandibles clicking angrily before finding its footing.

Kyle knew the trio of shambling beetles would be a bit behind, though his Auric Perception and a quick glance north told him that he would have company soon. Moreover, the sensation in the air had been progressively intensifying, and he had to actively work to suppress the urge to get lost in the fight. The wasp had no such suppression, and despite losing its wings, which made it move slowly and only on instinct, it charged at him. One well-timed stomp smashed the creature into the ground, its head crushed.

A familiar pulse of mana came through the creature, and he saw the smallest red gem yet flow out from it. He was tempted to reach out to it, but with enemies still nearby, he knew he couldn’t take the risk. Speaking of… “C.H.A.D.D., you’re welcome to wake up any time, buddy.” There was no response from the drone, so Kyle sighed as he looked to the north. He could hear the buzzing of wings, concluding that this group of insects was similar to the smaller beetles he’d encountered at the edge of the forest all those months ago.

Even back then, they’d only posed a limited threat, and with his Enhanced Carapace, he felt confident that they’d struggle to do him meaningful harm. Looking to the west at the still slowly approaching larger creatures, Kyle knew he had time before they arrived. Those factors together led him to one simple conclusion—he had time to practice. Dashing to the northeast with Haste active, he got a better look at the approaching swarm. Similar to the group in Albaum, this set looked to have been led by a similar mutated insect, this one looking more like a large ladybug with glowing spots on its back. Unfortunately for the creature, it had lost control over its swarm with the strong compulsion to fight in the air, and it looked to be losing control of itself, too.

As the small beetles buzzed toward him, he focused on the first and activated Resonance in his right hand. He grabbed the beetle as it got close, ignoring its attempts to bite him as he guided the pursuing swarm farther to the east, away from the slow-moving creatures. Resonance wasn’t able to activate on contact, but Kyle quickly corrected the flow of the technique, killing the beetle with a swift rotation of mana as soon as it was able to link. Throwing the body of the small beetle to the side, he repeated the process with the next beetle in line.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, Kyle was standing over the body of the ladybug, panting. He deactivated Haste, his mana reserves beginning to feel low for the first time in a long time. When he’d used Resonance against the Wall, he’d been able to pull a little bit of its mana to help fuel the technique. Using it to shape the wood and chitin also allowed him to pull some of his mana back, making it a slow but mana-efficient process. This case turned out to be quite different. The smaller beetles simply didn’t have high enough mana density inside themselves to make a lethal application of the skill, so Kyle had to use his own mana to finish the job. If it had only been a handful of beetles, it likely wouldn’t have been too much of an issue, but after dispatching nearly thirty of the creatures, he was feeling drained. This wasn’t a drawback he’d expected, and as another small red gem formed around the body of the ladybug, he looked at the lumbering newcomers with concern.

These creatures were large and slow-moving, with a mottled, ash-colored carapace. Their faces were large and flat, small antennae bobbing up and down in the air. While their mandibles were relatively small, he expected they would have other means to cause harm. He thought back to the Infernal and just how close he’d come to death. No, underestimating these three beetles would be a major mistake.

Kyle chose not to activate Haste yet, given their relative slowness. He felt confident exceeding their current pace without his skill, and that would help him avoid the fatigue in his body as well as save mana that could be used for Resonance. And he knew he’d need to use it, because he had no confidence in damaging the horse-sized creatures with his bare hands. As the first beetle approached him, Kyle jumped into action. He sprinted past it, also dodging past the second as he closed on the last beetle in the procession. Taking advantage of their bulk, he activated Resonance and placed his hand on the side of the final beetle as the other struggled to turn and face him. The connection with the creature’s mana network was quickly established, and Kyle let out a breath as he felt the power flowing through the creature. I won’t have to manage this all alone, at least. The creature, seeming to sense the intrusion, attempted to wrest control of its mana network back from Kyle. Unfortunately for it, Kyle’s Willpower far exceeded its own, and with a powerful surge of mana, the beetle fell to the ground, dead. [DR. MAYHEW, YOU MAY WANT TO⁠—]

Kyle nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the familiar robotic voice, and in his distraction, he failed to react to a massive greenish cloud that erupted from the fallen creature. “Augh!” The gas that was expelled from the creature was incredibly pungent, and the first thing Kyle thought about was poison. Concerned that he’d already inhaled a breath’s worth, he gritted his teeth as he activated Haste, escaping the cloud and creating distance. “What is that gas?” Kyle sputtered, coughing in the foul cloud. “Also, C.H.A.D.D., are you okay? How long have you been back?” Kyle had dozens more questions he wanted to ask, but he forced himself to focus on the matter at hand.

[DR. MAYHEW, IT LOOKS TO BE A CHEMICAL COMPOUND FOUND INSIDE THE CREATURE. A VARIETY OF CHAINS, PRIMARILY DESIGNED FOR ODOR.]

Kyle certainly couldn’t disagree with that, as his nose burned from the pungent scent. It was like burning rubber met rotten eggs. “Is it toxic?”

[CONSUMPTION OF LARGE QUANTITIES WOULD BE ILL-ADVISED, BUT THE GAS DOES NOT APPEAR TO CARRY ANY COMMON TOXINS THAT WOULD OTHERWISE BE DANGEROUS.]

Confident in his companion’s analysis, Kyle regarded the remaining two creatures. Massive stink bugs. Can’t say I expected that. Holding his breath, Kyle rushed toward them, putting an end to the last of his opponents.

The area by the stink bugs and the swarm of beetles was well and truly covered by a thick cloud of noxious gas, so Kyle made his way over to the body of the wasp, which was blessedly free of the foul stench. His eyes still watered as he spoke to his companion. “C.H.A.D.D., what happened to you when you absorbed that energy from that gem earlier? In fact, how did you absorb the energy at all?”

[I… AM NOT ENTIRELY SURE HOW TO DESCRIBE WHAT HAPPENED, DR. MAYHEW. IT WAS A STRANGE EXPERIENCE. AS A POINT OF CLARIFICATION, HOWEVER, IT WAS NOT A GEM. IT WAS BIOLOGICAL IN NATURE—AN IMPORTANT DISTINCTION. WHEN I CAME INTO CONTACT WITH IT, THE PHYSICAL STRUCTURE CONVERTED INTO MANA, WHICH WAS THEN ABSORBED THROUGH NORMAL MEANS.]

Those words made Kyle stop walking entirely. “What do you mean it was biological?”

[THE CONSTRUCT WAS FORMED AND SHAPED BY MANA THAT WAS BOUND TO THE CREATURE, BUT THE CORE COMPONENT WAS BIOLOGICAL. THINK OF IT LIKE BLOOD WITHOUT PLASMA, WITH THE MANA GIVING IT SHAPE BEFORE BEING BROKEN DOWN AND REABSORBED.]

The concept made Kyle’s head spin, although pieces were starting to come together. It made a lot of sense that all these creatures, himself included, were giving off the same pulses of mana. If a biological component was consistent among all the effected individuals, it would explain a lot about what was driving these mutations. Unfortunately, it also created a lot more questions. Why is the biological element releasing the same type of mana that is so harmful to the rest of the world? Why are only insects mutating like this? What caused this to happen in the first place?

Kyle shook his head. These were important questions, but not questions he could answer at the moment. For now, he had more than enough on his plate. Finishing the walk over to the body of the fallen wasp, he looked more closely at the red gem that was still present near the corpse. Even though he hadn’t made time to enter meditation after his encounter with the Wall, he didn’t want to leave these orbs out to be absorbed by anything that came across them. Kyle resolved to absorb them himself, then consolidate all the gains at once afterward.

Gingerly, he reached out to touch it. As usual, the red… whatever it was, broke apart, and tendrils of crimson energy began to flow toward his arm. This time, however, something changed. Only a small amount entered his body before the entire process stopped, the remaining energy freezing before dissipating into the air. Kyle frowned at this, but before he could say anything, he was whisked away into a vision.

Kyle immediately felt the ancient presence regarding him, and his perspective shifted to be removed, regarding the entirety of the planet. From his bird’s eye view, he first saw a quickly rotating snapshot of countless mutated arthropods, some like the beetles and ant he’d encountered, others even more powerful than he’d encountered before. But none of these creatures carried with them the signature energy of the red gems. From there, his perspective shifted to another massive number of creatures, like the fly. Weak, but carrying the energy that Kyle now realized matched the presence surrounding him. From there, he saw creatures like the Infernal and the Wall, monsters that had absorbed significant amounts of essence. He saw them destroy one another yet be unable to absorb the essence that flowed out from their fallen opponents. Each tier of creature showed fewer and fewer but still numbered in the thousands. The last image was himself, counted among their number. For whatever reason, he and the others had hit a bottleneck, unable to progress further. Then, finally, his vision stopped on four images.

They were shadowy, and the first thing that struck him was the power that emanated from each. Not even close to the impact of the presence that surrounded him, but power that was familiar. D Grade, just like Grandpa. There was no doubt that the four creatures in this highest tier were at least as strong as his grandfather was. There hadn’t been reports of D Grade creatures since the time of the Originators, but somehow the changes that had happened to their planet had given rise to at least four more. Shuddering, he focused on the first.

Kyle saw a gigantic moth with a wingspan at least a hundred meters across. Scales clouded the sky as it flew, with nothing daring to come close. Then he saw a man-sized… lobster? No, that wasn’t right. It was a mutated crustacean of some type, with powerful claws and a brightly colored carapace. He watched as six claws on its front exploded out in motion, creating shockwaves that broke its prey to pieces. His perspective changed yet again, and he was now watching a centipede the size of a train rush through a rainforest, devouring everything in its path. Finally, he saw a spider in a jungle, massive fangs chittering as it disappeared into the shadows.

“THIS IS THE PINNACLE OF YOUR PLANET, LITTLE LARVA. THERE IS NO PURPOSE TO ASSIMILATING LESSER ESSENCE ANYMORE. ASCEND AND DEVOUR, OR BE CONSUMED. I WILL OFFER YOU NOTHING MORE UNTIL YOU DO.” The voice boomed out in his mind, and as abruptly as the vision started, it ended. All Kyle was left with was a pounding headache, and the images of four monstrous beasts seared into his memory.

Chapter 72

“How long was I out, C.H.A.D.D.?” Kyle asked, his voice shaking.

[ONLY A MOMENT, DR. MAYHEW. WAS THIS CONSISTENT WITH YOUR OTHER EXPERIENCES?]

Kyle nodded slowly, looking down at his hand. “Not exactly. Every other time I’ve touched these orbs, I’ve absorbed them, and then I’ve had a series of visions. Once I heard the voice of… something… while I’ve been in the vision. This time, the visions felt much more specific, and the voice talked a lot more. The other thing I noticed was that the mana…” Kyle trailed off, not sure if he should put it to words. C.H.A.D.D. didn’t give him the option.

[THE MANA FROM THE PRESENCE WAS CONSISTENT WITH THE MANA EMITTED BY THE CREATURES WE’VE ENCOUNTERED AND THE MANA PERVADING THE ATMOSPHERE.]

That was consistent with what Kyle thought, but accepting that as a fact had big implications. “How can you be sure, C.H.A.D.D.?”

[BECAUSE ALL THERE WAS FOR ME WAS THE PRESENCE, AND THE MANA. DR. MAYHEW, WE PERCEIVE THE WORLD QUITE DIFFERENTLY, YOU THROUGH YOUR ORGANS AND SENSES, AND ME THROUGH MY INSTRUMENTS. EXPERIENCING THIS WAS UNIQUE TO ME, BUT BOTH THE PRESENCE AND MANA WERE UNMISTAKABLE. SCANNING NOW, I CAN CONFIRM THE IMPRESSION WAS CORRECT.]

“Okay. Thank you, C.H.A.D.D.” Kyle didn’t want to say more, though if he was correct in his understanding, the monstrous presence in their visions was likely involved in what had happened to their world. If that was the case, there wasn’t much that could be done. He’d heard that when upper-level D Grades fought, areas the size of city blocks around them would often be completely destroyed. Stories told that the Originators, the only seven humans to achieve C Grade, were able to wipe entire cities off the map in their skirmishes prior to joining forces and establishing the Central Authority. And the gap between destroying a city and wiping out a planet was night and day. If this thing was responsible, it was at a level of power beyond the scope of anything Kyle had heard of. Still, for now, all he had was conjecture, and he put it in the back of his mind. There were two important matters yet to take care of.

“C.H.A.D.D., I’m not able to absorb anything more from the monsters we killed. Do you want any of this… essence?” Kyle said, struggling to find a word that wouldn’t prompt a snarky rebuttal from the drone.

[IF POSSIBLE, THAT WOULD BE APPRECIATED, DR. MAYHEW. THIS MAY PROVIDE FURTHER ANSWERS AND CONJECTURES.] Nodding, Kyle walked around the dispersing cloud of gas, making his way toward the body of the ladybug on the far side. He took off his pack, setting it next to the essence on the ground. He was about to remove C.H.A.D.D. from it when he saw the essence break apart and begin to be absorbed through the side of the pack. “What did you do?” Kyle asked with genuine confusion. He received no answer, however, as C.H.A.D.D. was embarking on its second vision. With a shrug, Kyle settled down next to the drone and entered meditation. It was time for him to learn about the changes he had experienced since slaying the Wall. Looking at his status, he was shocked.

KYLE MAYHEW. ARTHRO-HUMAN CHIMERA (AWAKENED), HEALER. LEVEL 67

ADAPTIVE ANATOMY—3/?—ENHANCED CARAPACE, AURIC PERCEPTION, EXOSKELETAL STRENGTH

VITALITY: 239

ENDURANCE: 239

STRENGTH: 75

DEXTERITY: 159

WILLPOWER: 184

INTELLIGENCE: 242

PERCEPTION: 241

FREE ATTRIBUTES: 28

The first thing that stuck out to him was the sheer number of levels he’d gained. He suspected that the breakthroughs with Resonance had been the largest contributing factor, but it was still far beyond his expectations. Beyond that, he saw a third node filled, this time representing his Strength attribute. Exoskeletal Strength… I have no idea what that means. It was likely tied to his hunger, but he’d need to have C.H.A.D.D. run a thorough scan to help detect the differences. Whatever it was, he was hopeful it would prove as useful as his other two Adaptive Anatomy enhancements. That left four attributes yet to evolve: Vitality, Dexterity, Willpower, and Intelligence. Four attributes, four monsters to slay. His mind drifted to the other reality confronting him; he was getting closer to the terminus of E Grade.

There wasn’t a lot he knew about D Grade, other than that it came with upgrades to his skills as well as offering a slew of new ones. Clark had been in the earlier stages of D Grade, and even that put him head and shoulders above the strongest E Grade fighters. What would it do for him? Deciding not to dwell too long on that, Kyle turned his attention to his remaining free attribute points.

He briefly considered splitting them between his highest four attributes but paused. He knew that his specialization was important, but equally, he knew that each point allocated to his weaker attributes made a larger relative difference. Kyle stopped second-guessing, and split the points evenly, four into each of his attributes. D Grade brought with it a lot of mysteries, and Kyle didn’t want to end up in a position where he was held back by too much specialization too early.

Other than the admittedly low Strength attribute, the biggest issue he was running into was his lack of powerful skills to make use of the attributes he had at his disposal. Haste and Resonance both had applications in a fight, but neither were true combat abilities. Kyle had accepted that his hope of not needing to fight was long gone. Whether he was against the Central Authority, Liberation, or the world itself, it was important that he knew how to handle himself. That brought him to his next item of business. “C.H.A.D.D., you up yet?” The silence that followed was confirmation that his friend was not, and he walked over to the still body of the Wall.

As he walked up close, Kyle couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer size of the creature. If it had better control over its internal mana, their battle could have ended quite differently. Still, he came out on top and felt true gratitude for all the growth their conflict had inspired. He rested his hand on the creature’s majestic horn. He felt his connection to the material form and began to get to work shaping it. His first craft was clear in his mind’s eye: I’ve been without a weapon for way too long. The material was incredibly strong, but, to his surprise, also relatively easy to move.

It was better than he’d dreamed for the plans he’d been developing. His first order of business would be to get a baton like the ones he’d borrowed from Frank, though his goal was to just use one for now. That would give him the flexibility to use a free hand as necessary, which he knew would be his primary method of dealing with strong enemies like the one before him. Still, that didn’t mean he would be satisfied with a mediocre weapon. The first thing he did was use mana to separate out strands of the chitin and infuse them with flexibility. The horn split into twenty-one such strands, each roughly a millimeter in thickness. From there, he pushed his mana to separate the strands into seven clusters, with three strands per group.

Focus intensifying, he slowly rotated each group, braiding them into seven cords of three. He could feel the sweat beading on his brow as he worked, approaching the hardest part of his craft. He’d theorized that he could use Resonance to not only shape but also compress the material he was working with. That was what he attempted now as he rotated each tightly wound cord with the others, willing them to weave together tightly. Individuals with specialized crafting classes would likely have been able to make this work much easier, but Kyle was undeterred. Slowly, moment by moment, Kyle infused his mana as he continued to focus on rotation and compression. Soon, the whole horn was woven down to only about a meter in length, with a comfortable fit in his right hand.

With a thought, he broke off the connection of his work, leaving him with a tightly compressed baton made of the chitin. The work he’d done weaving it together left it with a magnificent shine in the late afternoon sun, and he fell on his back on the ground in exhaustion with a broad smile on his face. The baton was heavy, but well within what he could handle, even with his meager Strength. It was perfect. While there was plenty more to get done, he was satisfied with the first step. Opening his pack to get some meat and a drink from his canteen, he called out to his drone companion. “You done in there?” the reply came, snarky as ever.

[DR. MAYHEW, I CALLED TO YOU TWICE WHILE YOU WERE WORKING. CLEARLY THE STICK IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN I AM, I DIDN’T WANT TO OVERSTEP.] Kyle chuckled in response. He didn’t want to lose focus while he was working, which was why he hadn’t replied. “Well then, how about I try to make it up for you?” Kyle said between mouthfuls of meat. “I think that we can work on some enhancements for your pack.”

[THAT WOULD BE ACCEPTABLE, DR. MAYHEW. I ALSO HAVE A COUPLE OF IDEAS WITH THE MORE UNIQUE PIECES FROM THE INFERNAL WHEN WE GET BACK TO ALBAUM.]

That took Kyle by surprise; he certainly didn’t expect C.H.A.D.D. to have crafting suggestions. Still, he was willing to work with what the drone had. “Sounds like a plan. For now, let’s get to work.”

Chapter 73

The next couple of days were spent with Kyle refining the material with C.H.A.D.D.’s input. Unfortunately, by the time the worst of the gas had cleared, the crimson orbs from the stinkbugs had dissipated into the air. He still had a couple of ideas for their bodies, but if he were to be honest, he would call the lack of orbs a win. If they were anything like the small weevil C.H.A.D.D. squished, they could have resulted in some… interesting changes for the drone.

“C.H.A.D.D., please don’t. I’m trying to work on the fit here.”

[I’M TRAINING, DR. MAYHEW. THIS IS IMPORTANT.]

With a sigh, Kyle stood up, twirling his new weapon in his right hand. C.H.A.D.D. had discovered a method to replicate the pheromone signature that the small creature had emitted and would flare it from time to time as “training.” Kyle had begun to suspect it was being used whenever the drone felt that Kyle had been too focused on crafting, though his accusations would be met with outright denial. The small mercy was that C.H.A.D.D. didn’t quite yet have enough oomph to bring in powerful awakened creatures, instead just summoning swarms of the smaller flying beetles.

Kyle watched as a dozen or so started dotting the horizon and activated Haste to go meet them. The Exoskeletal Strength had proven to be a subtle yet significant boost. He smashed his baton against the first beetle, barely feeling the impact through his arm. From what C.H.A.D.D. told him, his muscles connected to both his bones as well as the lowest level of chitin from his Enhanced Carapace. This resulted in the ability to express more explosive strength and resilience, at the cost of needing more food to keep them running.

Kyle felt that this was a more than appropriate trade-off, which was only reinforced as he rapidly dispatched the group of insects in front of him.

[ROTATE WITH YOUR HIPS, KID. YOU’RE LEAVING A LOT OF POWER ON THE TABLE BY ONLY USING YOUR UPPER BODY.] Garth’s voice this time.

Kyle smiled at the instruction and did his best to incorporate the feedback into his fight. Rapid, powerful strikes lashed out, and in less than a minute, the entire swarm had been dealt with. “Satisfied, C.H.A.D.D.?”

[FOR THE TIME BEING, DR. MAYHEW. YOUR TECHNIQUE IS IMPROVING.]

“Thanks, buddy. I should be able to finish the work on your pack today, then we’ll head home.”

Looking over all that he’d completed, he was proud. On the ground near the body of the Wall, he had a full set of chitin armor for himself, in addition to a reinforced box for aid supplies. He carried his baton with him and had already finished most of the components for his planned improvements to the C.H.A.D.D. pack. A series of large plates were ready to be attached for extra protection, with several smaller plates to affix directly to some of C.H.A.D.D.’s more damaged areas.

The drone had mentioned it had some more ideas for the pack but wanted to use the materials available in Albaum. That worked fine for Kyle, as it gave him more opportunities to practice with Resonance. He’d gained another two levels as he worked on his creations and was a stone’s throw away from the terminus of E Grade. Don’t put the cart before the horse, Mayhew. The last item on his docket before they took off was the most intricate work yet: a chain. Kyle rested his hands against the last remaining horn from the Wall, pushing his mana in as he activated Resonance.

Holes began to open up as he rotated his mana through the material, careful not to leave any portion too thick or too thin. When he was done, he affixed the chain between his pack and the back of the armor he’d made. The inspiration to create this item stemmed from his encounters with Carlyle and the Infernal. Against fire users, there was a genuine risk that the rope straps he used would be burned away or at least damaged. This would help circumvent that issue, giving Kyle additional control and connection to C.H.A.D.D. It would still be vulnerable to sufficiently powerful blows, though nothing he’d encountered so far had shown an ability that could easily shear through the material. He shuddered as he remembered the D Grade monsters from his most recent vision. With some exceptions, Kyle amended, waiting for the wave of fear to pass.

With everything connected, the young Healer hefted his pack and looked at the ruined mining town. It had provided the perfect environment for him to continue his progress. Thank you. The words of gratitude crossed his mind as he walked down the winding road.

[DR. MAYHEW, IF YOU THINK THERE MIGHT BE MORE STINKBUGS TO THE WEST, WE COULD MAKE A DETOUR. I’D BE VERY INTERESTED IN SEEING WHAT HAPPENS IF I ABSORB THEIR⁠—]

“Absolutely not, C.H.A.D.D. The last thing you need is a stink gas ability.”

[I CAN THINK OF AT LEAST THREE SCENARIOS WHERE IT COULD PROVE HELPFUL.]

“And when we come across those situations, you’re welcome to say, ‘I told you so.’ Until then, I think we’ll get by all right.”

The two continued their banter as they continued their journey south, with C.H.A.D.D. making a variety of arguments to go collect interesting insect essences, while Kyle, for his part, rejected them all in kind. The drone’s vision seemed to open it up to a world of possibility, and it was excited to share its ideas with Kyle. They were in the middle of an impassioned argument about tracking down a dung beetle, which C.H.A.D.D. was convinced could unlock some unique synergy skills. Suddenly, it went quiet.

“I take your silence to mean you finally see it my way, because there’s no way I’m hanging out with you if you get a skill that makes me push a ball of dried crap.”

[NOT THAT, DR. MAYHEW, THOUGH I THINK YOU’RE UNDERSELLING THE POSSIBILITIES. MY SENSORS PICKED UP A GROUP OF UNAWAKENED AT THE EDGE OF MY RANGE, MOVING EAST. IT APPEARS THAT SOME ARE INJURED, WHILE OTHERS ARE SIGNIFICANTLY HEALTHIER. UNABLE TO PROVIDE ADDITIONAL DETAIL AT THIS TIME.]

Kyle stopped in his tracks to consider the drone’s words. On the one hand, if it was a group of unawakened, there was a strong chance they were traveling as a group, and his appearance could just cause a stir. On the other hand, if they were injured, he could help. “We’re taking a detour.” Kyle turned and started heading east, though not at top speed. If this was some sort of ambush, he had no intention of rushing in head first.

As they traveled, Kyle found it fairly easy to keep the group of unawakened at the edge of C.H.A.D.D.’s detection range. What did surprise him was the pace that they seemed to maintain. As the hours wore well into nightfall, Kyle’s concern grew. With a significant number of infirm people in their group, their pace was simply reckless. Even if they had a mode of transport, pushing this hard without stopping was an unnecessary risk. Just as he was about to increase his pace to catch up, C.H.A.D.D. piped up.

[DR. MAYHEW, MORE PEOPLE ARE COMING UP ON MY SENSORS. I’M DETECTING SIXTY-FOUR OTHERS IN THE TOTAL, WITH NEARLY HALF OF THEM CARRYING SIMILAR INJURIES TO THE INJURED WE’VE BEEN FOLLOWING. DR. MAYHEW… THERE ARE CHILDREN.] That was all that Kyle needed to hear. He activated Haste and dashed toward the group at his top speed.

Brad swore as he turned his bottle upside down, not a single drop of beer left in it. He was lucky enough to be among the raiding party that took out a refugee caravan en route to Nierburg, and a couple of cases of beer made their way to his bedroll. That was nearly two weeks ago, and this was his last bottle. If that weren’t enough, he was stuck on watch. Many of the scattered groups of raiders had been forced out of the south and had moved out of the way of the much more organized powers that had taken their place. That was fine by Brad, as he didn’t want to fight against the awakened that came with organizations like those.

A whimper caught his attention, and he looked at the child bound near the edge of the camp. “Keep your filthy mouth shut, or I’ll shut it up for you!” Brad roared at the child, who flinched and hunkered back, being embraced by one of the women who was similarly bound. He threw his empty bottle at them, though it shattered against the ground due to his poor aim. That’ll teach them right, he thought, satisfied they wouldn’t disrespect him by raising their voices again. He frowned as his eyes turned back to the prairie beyond the campfire light. He squinted, picking up a faint electric blue glow. His eyes widened as he realized that it was coming closer and fast. He turned to alert the camp when he felt a brutal impact across the back of his head. There was a loud crack that broke the air, and he fell face first into the dirt. Before his eyes closed, he saw a figure clad in shining black armor charging into the heart of their camp.

Kyle felt the growl bubbling in his chest as he got deeper into the camp. These sick bastards. Women and children were bound in groups around the perimeter of the camp, with a small group of men who had been beaten and bound in the center. Twenty-nine injured slaves were in the camp in total, leaving thirty-six bandits in the camp. Well, thirty-five now that the man guarding the perimeter was down for the count. After he smashed three more into the ground, the general alarm was raised, and the defense was mounted in earnest.

They might as well have been a cardboard box in a hurricane for all the good it did them. A part of Kyle knew he should care more about the violence he was committing, but seeing what these animals had done left him simply unable to care. His baton flashed out at top speed, breaking bones with every strike. A couple brave raiders managed to level their hunting rifles at him, and Kyle didn’t even bother to dodge. Most of the bullets were stopped cold by his new armor, and those that hit the uncovered pieces fared no better. In less than thirty seconds, over half the raider group were broken on the ground, unable to mount any more resistance. Somehow a retreat was called, and the remaining raiders ran south, abandoning their supplies as they took off into the night, desperate to escape the monster that attacked them.

Kyle panted as he looked at the aftermath of his attack. Twenty-two bodies were unconscious on the ground with broken bones and other injuries. He felt oddly removed from the sight, instead turning his attention to the captives that were bound. The first group shied away as he approached, until his hand touched the rope binding them and ripped it free. He did the same with the other groups, until all the captives gathered around the campfire. “Line up.” Kyle was surprised by the coldness in his voice, though he knew where it came from. He could heal their physical injuries, but there was pain here that he wouldn’t be able to help at all. He administered his triage, satisfied that when he was done, this group would be able to travel. “Take what supplies you need, and head south toward Nierburg.” One of the women looked at him, her brown eyes haunted. “Will you be coming with us?”

“No,” Kyle replied. He wanted to say more. He knew he should say more. The words just wouldn’t come. He was still so angry that people were capable of doing things like this. Fortunately, he had an outlet for that anger. Reactivating Haste, he took off in the direction that the surviving raiders had run. With any luck, they would lead him right to another camp where he could vent his building rage.

[DR. MAYHEW, IS IT WISE TO LEAVE THESE PEOPLE TO FEND FOR THEMSELVES?]

“C.H.A.D.D., these scumbags didn’t get this far on their own. It’s always the same. These bastards prey on defenseless people because they think they can get away with it. We’re going to show them how wrong they are.”

Chapter 74

Garth couldn’t help but shake his head as he saw another group approach the city. Refugees had begun pouring into the city once again over the last several weeks. His unit had to work double duty last week due to the sheer number of arrivals, and with this latest group, Garth estimated that they would have over one thousand new citizens added to Nierburg. Even though it meant less rest for himself and his squad, it was worth it to see the city continue to grow. It was almost unrecognizable from when Garth had first arrived, and he thought about how well the people from Duilleag had adapted and integrated. With time, he was confident that all the newcomers would do the same.

He looked at the woman leading the group. She looked weary, the exhaustion plain on her face mirrored in the expressions of the people following her. Only maybe in her early thirties, the bags under her eyes and worry lines made her appear far older. A few nights of good rest behind city walls will hopefully do her good. Looking to his team, he met Mary Ellen’s eyes and nodded. She returned the gesture and stepped forward.

“Welcome to Nierburg. My name is Mary Ellen, and we’re here to help you get settled in.” With the smoothness that only comes with practice, she ran them through a series of questions while Terrance had them perform their verification scans, and Joseph tried not to stare at her too obviously. The line of refugees made their way inside in short order, and Garth had to say he was impressed with Mary Ellen’s abilities. She wasn’t much of a fighter, but she had a way with people.

The woman in charge nodded her thanks to the younger woman as she began to walk toward the entrance to the city, and Garth stopped her to ask the same parting question he had asked every group. “Why are you only arriving now?” The haunted look told him everything he needed to know. She looked like she was considering saying more, but Garth waved her dismissal. “You don’t have to share. Your story looks like it’s the same one I’ve been hearing a lot lately. Get inside, get some rest. You’re safe now.”

He watched the woman make her way in before turning his gaze out to the edge of the forest. Despite the clouds and ash, the trees left standing formed a wall of vibrant red and gold on the other side of the empty plain. These weren’t just slow-moving refugees who had been making their way to Nierburg; these people were captives, just like many of the others he’d seen. The specifics varied, but the theme had been consistent across the vast majority of these groups. They had been held by various groups of bandits or marauders, forced to salvage for supplies, do hard labor, or worse. They had been beaten, malnourished, and broken. Then, out of nowhere, a monster attacked. This was the haziest part for many of them, with some claiming it was a wild beast and others claiming it was a knight in midnight black armor.

Whatever the truth of the matter, their captors had been beaten, attacked, and forced to retreat, giving them opportunities to escape. At first, it made Garth think of Kyle, but that thought was quickly dismissed. Nobody had seen hide nor hair of the young man in months, and these refugees were coming from an entirely different direction than the ones who identified him before. No, Kyle was dead, and Garth had to accept that. Besides, the methods were decidedly more brutal. While Kyle prioritized the safety of the people he helped, this new person seemed much more concerned with putting down their captors. Garth’s best bet was that a defector from Central Defense had taken matters into their own hands.

“Garth, big boss wants to talk to you!” The voice belonged to Terrance, and it snapped him out of his contemplation. He looked back toward the gate, where the younger man gestured toward a Communication Array. Garth nodded, trading places with Terrance. “This is Captain Boltsbury.”

“Captain, I am sending Rathman’s team to come cover the gate. Report to my office as soon as they complete the handoff.” DeRosa’s voice was flat, but Garth could tell that something was bothering the man. “Yes, sir. Would you like me to bring my team or just myself, sir?”

“Your team will not be necessary, though if they could be standing by, that would be wise. We may have a deployment coming up, but we will discuss the details shortly.”

“Yes, sir.”

As he stepped away from the Communication Array, he saw Terrance turning away. Eavesdropping as always. Garth noticed this pattern of behavior over their time working together, and in conjunction with some of his other misgivings, it only reinforced Garth’s mistrust of the other man. He didn’t know if he was working for DeRosa or somebody else, but Garth was confident that Terrance had ulterior motives. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it at this point.

Rathman’s team arrived just minutes later, and despite the tension between the two captains, the handoff went smoothly. Gathering his team just inside the gate, he addressed them. “I’ve been called to discuss a matter of some importance with the councilman. I don’t know the specifics, though there is a chance that we’ll be called to deploy depending on what we discuss. Get food, get off your feet, but be ready. If I need to call on you, I expect you to answer and to be here quickly. Is that understood?”

A resounding “Yes, sir!” came from his team, and he nodded in approval.

“Then you’re dismissed. I’ll update you all as soon as I have details one way or another.” The young people dispersed, and Garth made his way to the office of Victor DeRosa.

“Thomas, it’s good to see you. How long have you been working here?” Garth was pleasantly surprised to see one of the young men from Duilleag at the front desk, and the two clasped hands. “It’s good to see you too, boss. Been here about a month now. After everything that happened in Central Communication, Councilman wanted to bring a couple of folks over and make sure that he had closer ties. I take it you’re not here to catch up with me though.” With a chuckle, Thomas gestured for the older soldier to follow him. Garth obliged, and the two made their way through the maze of hallways while they caught up. Soon, they stood before a large wooden door. Thomas took Garth’s hand once again. “It was good talking to you. We’ll have to grab a beer one of these days, see if we can get the whole group back together.”

“I’d like that a lot. Take care of yourself, Thomas.” With that, the young man left, turning a corner and out of sight. Garth opened the heavy door and was shocked to see not only the councilman, but also the current director of Central Defense. “Councilman DeRosa, Director Reynolds. Reporting as requested.”

DeRosa was sitting behind his desk while Reynolds was gesturing toward a map on the desk, both thoroughly engaged. “Captain, you’re later than expected. Sit.” DeRosa didn’t even look up from the map, pointing to a chair. Garth followed the order, trying to contain his curiosity. They looked at the map for another minute or so before DeRosa and Reynolds turned toward him. DeRosa was the first to speak, his cold eyes meeting Garth’s.

“You are familiar with the rumors surrounding the recent spike in refugees?” The Councilman’s tone made it clear that he knew the answer to his question, and he continued. “Whoever is attacking these groups, they are causing quite a disruption. While their motives may well be altruistic, the reality is that we simply don’t have the infrastructure to support this constant influx of unproductive unawakened.”

Garth knew that it was certainly adding some strain to the city, but he had a hard time believing it was as large an issue as DeRosa was making it out to be. Still, he kept his mouth shut, listening to the man as he continued. “Furthermore, they pose a risk to our eventual goals of expansion. Director Reynolds and I are of the mind that it is likely a deviant awakened with powerful combat-oriented abilities. We have had limited communication with a fringe group nearby that has established respectable order and are in negotiations for them to join as our first satellite settlement. We would like you and your team to go meet with their awakened leader, a man going by the name ‘C.’ You will work with him to lure out and defeat the deviant, who is a problem for all of us. Secondly, we want you to report back to us the condition of the camp and the treatment of the citizens. If it is found to be appropriate, we will continue negotiations. If not, we will take a more… direct approach.”

Behind DeRosa, Reynolds nodded his agreement before he spoke. “Our records show that you were over Level 20 before the cataclysm, and given the hardships you’ve endured and your performance, we would expect you’re closing in on Level 40. Is that assumption correct?”

Garth swallowed hard as he tried to keep his expression neutral. “Getting close, sir.”

Reynolds nodded. “Then this campaign will likely push you through that bottleneck. Perform well, and assuming your skill selection is anything decent, there will likely be a promotion in it for you.” He handed Garth a sealed letter. “You’re dismissed, soldier. Gather your team; you leave first thing in the morning.” With a salute, Garth stood and left the room. He was still shocked that he’d received an assignment from the councilman himself. That didn’t just happen to normal gate crews, making this new assignment well beyond his expectations. He contacted his team and asked them to meet him at first light.

Following the map, it took them nearly two days to reach this mysterious “C,” and he breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the camp. The fall colors were breathtaking as they walked through the forest, but the night they spent on the road was colder than they expected. His squad were all clearly nervous, and Garth couldn’t blame them. This was the riskiest assignment they’d been on, other than perhaps the “supply” delivery they’d done with Rathman. As they approached, Garth was impressed with the discipline he saw. Men in dark combat fatigues patrolled the perimeter, and he was quickly spotted. He kept his hands raised high, holding the letter, as a sharp-looking man approached. “State your business.”

“I’m here as part of a delegation from Nierburg. This letter is from Councilman DeRosa, to be delivered to one “C” in charge of this camp.”

The man took the letter and examined it before gesturing for a young woman to come stand guard while he went deeper into the camp with the letter in hand. Nobody spoke a word for what felt like an eternity. Finally, the largest man that Garth had ever seen turned a corner and walked right toward them, a letter in one hand and a massive battle axe slung over the opposite shoulder. “You’re the folks from Nierburg, huh?” the giant asked, voice booming. “Don’t look like much, but here’s to hoping you’ll be of some use.”

Garth saw his team flinch at the man’s volume out of the corner of his eye, and he had to suppress a sigh. They’re just so green. Trying to salvage some semblance of control, he looked the giant in the eyes. “You’re ‘C’ I take it? Let me be clear about something—I frankly don’t care one way or another how you approach me, but you will treat my squad with respect. Otherwise, you and I will have a problem.” There was a moment of silence, and the tension between the two men was building. It was broken as the large man laughed, slapping his stomach with the hand holding the note. “I think we’ll get along all right. And drop the ‘C’ nonsense, call me Cornelius.”

Chapter 75

Kyle’s initial return to Albaum took more time than he’d expected to wrap up the repairs that C.H.A.D.D. designed. Kyle felt that they had well and truly crossed the line to modifications, though he was willing to defer to the drone’s judgment. All the rune-inscribed pieces of carapace from the Infernal had been put to use, and the results were better than he’d hoped. Still, it took time. On his way back to Albaum he neutralized a dozen encampments, but for every one that he put down, it felt like he found two more. After finishing C.H.A.D.D.’s upgrades, he was right back at it. Kyle was waging a one-man war against the raider camps in the north, and as exhausting as that was, the results were worth it. He’d set nearly a thousand captives free and directed them toward Nierburg, which, to his knowledge, was still the only large-scale Central Authority settlement around.

He’d encountered several other awakened over the last few weeks, but they tended to want to be the boss of their groups. Two working together could lead to trouble, which is why Kyle found himself slowly approaching the next camp. C.H.A.D.D. picked up two awakened presences and quite a few unawakened humans. His breath caught as he saw the familiar uniforms. Mottled black and gray combat fatigues, with a good number of the men carrying the very same sleek black rifles that had caused so much damage to his drone companion. Liberation.

The thought set Kyle’s teeth on edge. The last thing he expected was to see them so far away from Duilleag and in such force. The rational part of Kyle told him that this wasn’t a fight worth picking. They had three major advantages compared to the raiders he’d fought so far, and discounting any of them could prove fatal.

First, Kyle knew there were four awakened leaders of Liberation. That meant at least one of the two that C.H.A.D.D. detected was either Carlyle, Cornelius, or Valentine himself. None of them could be considered run-of-the-mill by any measure, and he was confident that the fourth member of their leadership would fall into the same category. Second, they were much better armed than the average group of bandits. The combat rifles were an order of magnitude more powerful than the standard arms he had come across, and though he expected his armor to hold up well against them, a field test against a camp this size could be disastrous.

Lastly, Liberation had training and discipline for its members. This wasn’t suppressing a group of rowdy thugs; this would be full-blown battlefield combat. These soldiers wouldn’t easily cut and run at the sign of danger, which meant Kyle had to be equally convicted in his approach. With a sigh, Kyle started backing away. There’s just no way this ends well for me. He took one step, then two, before he froze.

His eyes locked onto a boy no older than ten struggling to carry a wooden crate full of supplies. The kid was skin and bones, with visible bruises on his skin through the rags he was wearing. He tripped, dropping the crate. A nearby soldier walked over and kicked the fallen boy square in the stomach, knocking him back nearly a meter. Kyle was too far away to hear what was said, but he could clearly see the man and other nearby soldiers laughing. Some didn’t seem terribly comfortable, though that didn’t matter one bit to Kyle. They didn’t step in to stop it. They watched the child struggle to stand up, with tears in his eyes. The other people wearing rags kept their faces away, not wanting to draw attention to themselves as they worked. They were broken. Something inside Kyle snapped into place as his back straightened. “C.H.A.D.D., I can’t walk away from this.”

[I KNOW, DR. MAYHEW.]

“Not going to talk me out of it this time? This is usually where your ‘don’t be a hero’ or ‘you’re not your grandfather’ speech comes in.”

[YOU HAVE MY FULL PERMISSION TO BE A HERO TODAY, DR. MAYHEW.]

With C.H.A.D.D.’s blessing, Kyle activated Haste and sprinted toward the camp. The time for thinking was over, the time for action had come.

Garth wasn’t quite sure what to make of the man before him. He was loud, brash, and seemed far too direct to be any sort of competent leader. One thing was certain, though. This man was strong. He carried himself well, sure on his feet despite his size. The couple times Garth saw him set the axe down, he felt the impact of the heavy weapon as it rested on the ground. To be able to swing something like that in one hand spoke to the sheer strength that Cornelius could bring to bear.

Garth was among the physically strongest members of Central Defense, likely only behind Reynolds. Even so, he had no doubt Cornelius was stronger than both of them. That wasn’t to say that he thought he would lose if it devolved into combat, but he had no intention of getting into an arm-wrestling match with the guy.

They walked to the center of the camp, where a large tent had been set up. As they moved, Garth looked at the men and women bustling about. From guard duty to weapon maintenance, it was clear that they were dealing with professionals. This was a trained force, not a gaggle of hodge-podge deserters with delusions of grandeur. Still, Garth was impressed. He sat opposite Cornelius in the tent as more chairs were brought in for his team. The large man leaned in, his smile broadening. “So, you’re the group DeRosa sent to handle the upstart to the north. And probably also to report back on the condition of our camp, if I don’t miss my guess.”

Garth snorted at the blunt question and saw no reason to mince words. “That about sums it up. I’ll shoot straight with you here—you’re clearly part of something bigger than just this camp. You don’t get discipline and function like this without a hell of a lot of training. The councilman wants to know if you’re an asset that we can work with or a threat we need to deal with. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t see a reason we can’t coexist. For now.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Joseph visibly paling at the talk. He expected Mary Ellen and Johannes to be doing the same. As for Terrance… he was taking it smoothly. Too smoothly. Garth’s thought was interrupted by the booming laugh from Cornelius, who leaned in with the same broad smile.

“Like I said, I think we will get along just fine. Let me bring you up to speed on what we know about the situation in the north. We haven’t been impacted, but we’ve had a number of… recruits come from that direction, heavily injured. Our thought is that I’ll join your squad, maybe bring a dozen or so unawakened to bolster our numbers. From there, we’ll see if we can draw the target out. They’ve been reckless enough to attack large camps before; hopefully they’ll be dumb enough to attack us straight on. If not, we can explore other alternatives.”

“What other alternatives do you mean?” Garth asked, his eyes not leaving Cornelius’s.

“We can also bring a handful of unawakened prisoners. Their ‘civic duty’ to the Central Authority can be as bait. If our resident hero won’t fight us out of pragmatism, maybe having some damsels in distress will speed things along.”

“Out of the question. We’re not using people as bait to draw out a potentially dangerous enemy. Besides, if they’re as self-serving as our people and yours seem to think they are, that won’t change the calculus in any way. It’ll just slow us down.”

The smile on Cornelius’s face twisted into a sneer. “Don’t you go all heroic on me, Boltsbury. We both know the only reason DeRosa cares at all about this is because refugees are bad for his business. We’re in the same boat. It takes a lot to feed and shelter these people, and their labor doesn’t really make up for it at all, at least not yet. Controlled inflows are better for both of us, and whoever is making this mess is ruining the balance. Now are you with me, or not?”

Those words didn’t sit well with Garth. He felt a sense of anger bubbling up, which he fought to suppress. Not the time or the place, Garth. Listen and report back. DeRosa and Reynolds won’t let this stand. “I’m with you,” Garth said, resignation in his voice. The big man looked like he was about to push the issue further when a crack of gunfire and shouting erupted from outside the tent.

“What the hell is going on?” Cornelius bellowed. The large man hefted his axe, blowing past Garth and his stunned team. Garth quickly rose and followed him, keeping his eye out for a betrayal. Terrance was hot on his heels, the younger members chasing behind. Exiting the tent, they were greeted by chaos. A group of soldiers with military-grade rifles were firing at a figure in black who was rushing from place to place, leaving broken bodies in its wake. It was armed with a short sword—wait, was that a sword? No, a club maybe? Whatever it was, Garth knew it was bad news.

He counted over a dozen of Cornelius’s soldiers unmoving on the ground, and Garth fully expected that number to rise. Sparks skittered across the shiny black armor from time to time as bullets struck it, but they seemed to do virtually no damage. The mysterious fighter was prioritizing taking them down and narrowly dodged a massive swing of the battle axe as Cornelius closed the distance. The figure jumped back a couple of times, raising its baton in a familiar fighting stance. Garth jogged up next to Cornelius, mirroring the fighter’s stance with his own as he drew his sword. The others fell into formation behind him, and a moment of stillness fell over the battlefield. Cornelius was about to open his mouth to speak when a different voice broke the silence.

[MR. BOLTSBURY, YOUR ONBOARDING PAPERWORK IS STILL PENDING. I MUST SAY, THE TREATMENT OF PATIENTS IN THIS CAMP REFLECTS QUITE POORLY ON YOUR WORK AS A RESIDENT. WE WILL NOT BE PROVIDING A LETTER OF RECOMMENDATION.]

Garth’s jaw dropped as the unmistakable voice of C.H.A.D.D. reprimanded him, with no more fanfare than if it were discussing the weather. Cornelius whirled on him, leveling his axe threateningly. “You were with this brat the whole time?”

“Funny, I was about to ask him the same thing. What the hell are you doing in bed with Liberation, Garth?”

Kyle. That sealed it, even if he couldn’t recognize the young Healer through the full faceplate he wore. Despite the tense situation, he was about to break into a grin before he saw the pale expression on his squad’s face. That sobered him. At the very least, we need to get them out safely. Forming a plan, he turned to the black-clad man. “Kyle, I thought you were dead. It’s good to see you alive, although I think this whole thing is just a big misunderstanding. Put the weapon down, we’ll do the same, and we can talk this out.”

“I don’t think so, Garth. Either you haven’t seen what these people are capable of, or you have and don’t care. In any case, I’m not about to let their abuses continue. This will end here. Besides, Cornelius and I have some unfinished business, isn’t that right?”

The big man’s smile returned, fiercer than ever. “You’re a cocky little punk, you know that? If memory serves, though, the last time you ran away with your tail between your legs. I’m not going to give you the chance to do it again, Mayhew.” He spoke the name with unmistakable venom. “Come on over here, and I promise to end it quickly.” Kyle, for his part, held his stance. The gentle blue glow escaped from under the armor, and Garth knew well that he was ready for action.

Garth could feel the eyes of his squad fixed on his back, ready to follow his move. What can I do? The air suddenly cracked with a peal of thunder, the armored Healer rocking back as a bullet collided with his chest plate. That was the starting bell, and chaos erupted. Cornelius dove for Kyle, axe arcing to split him in half. The unawakened spearmen charged while the gunmen lined their shots. Garth knew sitting and waiting wasn’t an option. He had to choose a side. Resolving himself, only one thought crossed his mind. I’m sorry. Then, he turned to his squad. “With me!”

Chapter 76

Kyle rocked back as he felt the impact against his chest, right over his heart. Another bullet grazed his helmet, right where his head had been. He watched as Cornelius leaped for him, axe poised to cleave him in two. Haste had been active the whole time, and Kyle was ready for it. As the axe began its descent, Kyle sidestepped. As he slipped past the descent, he smashed his baton into the large man’s ribs, not stopping to see if his attack caused any damage. Instead, he dashed forward toward the line of soldiers leveling their rifles in his direction. In the blink of an eye, he was in their midst. He struck hands, arms, and skulls before dashing away. Cornelius followed, charging like a bull. The men looked on with fear evident in their eyes as they saw him draw back the axe, and they scattered to get out of its trajectory.

Kyle was satisfied with the chaos he’d caused, which was cut short as he was rocked back by another impact, this time the bullet striking his pack. Good thing we finished reinforcing it. Still, Kyle knew that he couldn’t keep taking hits like this. Whatever was hitting him, it was an order of magnitude stronger than the combat rifles. He knew he was on a timer before his gear would give out against sustained fire. Dodging another swipe of Cornelius’s axe only reinforced the point. I’ve got to find the sniper. Kyle was convinced now that the source of these powerful blasts had to be the second awakened in the camp. Even Ranger-type awakened had struggled to hit him when he was moving with Haste active, much less consistently land shots on vital areas. Not to mention the quality of the gear. As much as he despised their methods, Liberation was effective. They wouldn’t have given a high-caliber weapon like this to just anybody.

Kyle scanned the camp to try to find the culprit, dodging Cornelius again in the process. There! Kyle spotted a plain-looking man among the other gunmen, but his rifle was different. It was longer, with a thicker stock. The man met Kyle’s eyes, and his suspicions were confirmed as he activated a skill of his own. Kyle’s Auric Perception felt the air around him become infused with mana as it seemed to thicken and condense.

It felt like he was underwater, his movements sluggish despite using Haste. As he struggled to escape this slowed domain, the other man calmly raised his rifle and fired off another shot. Kyle had already crossed his arms in front of his face, and they had barely gotten in place to intercept the bullet aimed for his skull. It still halted his forward momentum, and as he staggered, he felt a shadow fall over him. Kyle looked up to see a grinning Cornelius, his axe already beginning its descent. There’s no time to get clear. His mind was calm as he evaluated his options, time seeming to slow down.

He thought back to his lessons with Frank, and he followed the training. If you can’t dodge completely, pick the least dangerous option. The most dangerous part of the axe was the broad blade, so it followed that the place he wanted to be was on the interior of the arc. His body moved almost on its own, but even as he closed the gap, Cornelius brought his other hand around to grab at Kyle. Unfortunately for him, Kyle was prepared for just such a reaction. Cornelius was off balance from his overhead swing, and the young man smashed his baton into the back of the giant hand reaching for him with a satisfying crack. This had a secondary effect of moving Cornelius in the path of the gunman, and Kyle dashed past him and out of the encumbering air to reset and plan his next move.

Less than a minute had passed, and already the camp was nearly destroyed from the battle. Large scars in the earth marked Cornelius’s strikes, and bullet holes riddled tents and stone. There was no doubt that the more troublesome opponent was the Ranger. The problem was figuring out how to get close enough to deal with him while avoiding Cornelius. The larger man turned, brandishing his axe again. Kyle saw the beginning of a bruise forming on his free hand, confirming what he’d suspected back in Duilleag. He’s fragile for his level, way too specialized into Strength. That meant his attacks could work, although slugging it out with him wasn’t an option. Being staggered by a shot from the rifle could spell death if he was caught by a follow-up with the axe.

Kyle’s mind had been on overdrive the whole time, and he was beginning to get frustrated. The two men were simply too coordinated. Suddenly, Cornelius let out a roar as mana burst out from him, just in time to intercept and disperse a familiar blade of wind that was careening toward him. Garth sighed as he stepped up beside Kyle. “I’ll handle the big fella. You keep that sniper off my squad. If he kills them, you answer to me.” With that, the grizzled veteran closed on Cornelius. Behind him, blasts of fire and lightning scattered the unawakened soldiers, leaving Kyle a path to the startled gunman. “Thanks, Garth.” Even if the older man couldn’t hear him, it was worth saying. Haste active, Kyle dashed toward his target.

Garth’s focus tightened as he got closer to the colossal man, slowly blocking out everything around him as he prepared to fight. Air Blade had been neutralized by Cornelius’s shockwave ability, which left Garth no other option than to fight in close combat. The axe came swinging toward him, and he didn’t even bother trying to block. He knew full well that trying to stand strong against an attack like that would end with him dead on the ground. He dodged the first strike, then a second. He began to grow concerned as a third came in quick succession, followed by a fourth attack.

Cornelius was chaining his swings together without leaving Garth opportunities to counter, and the pace was picking up. Finally, he saw an opening. He cut a thin line across the larger man’s side, but his eyes opened in shock as a massive fist came crashing toward him. Without the ability to dodge, the best thing Garth could do was turn his shoulder into the blow. It felt like he got hit by a car. Garth was knocked back nearly three meters, creating space between himself and the titan before him.

“You’re going to regret this, Boltsbury. We were going to kill you anyway, but you just picked a much harder death.”

“It sounds like I made the right call then.” Garth was calm before the man’s words, not bothered by the bluster. He raised his sword to approach again before Cornelius spoke.

“You know, you’re the second person I’ve fought with mana blades like this, but I’ve gotta say you’re a hell of a lot tougher than the chick who tried before.”

Garth stopped cold. How does he know about Crystal? The big man was clearly taunting him, and this time it was working. “You’re telling me you bastards are the ones who took Duilleag?”

“Would’ve been a lot harder if you were there. With just her and that wimp of a Healer, it was like taking candy from a baby.”

Garth couldn’t even find the words to respond, so he dove straight toward his opponent. Rage once again overtook him. He activated Fleet Foot, dashing forward in a straight line. The larger man attempted to dodge as Garth blew past him, leaving a shallow cut across Cornelius’s chest as the movement was completed. The grin was completely gone from the Liberation lieutenant, replaced with a scowl. Hefting his axe, he roared as he charged. His eyes were full of bloodlust, and it was clear he was looking to end their fight with a single blow.

Without Cornelius or other soldiers to keep him pinned down, Kyle was having a much easier time. Still, he had to give credit where it was due. The sniper was good. From what Kyle could put together, the man had three distinct skills. The first was an enhanced Perception skill to track movement, which was fairly common for Ranger type classes. The key difference between him and the others Kyle had faced before was a matter of raw attributes. Kyle expected his opponent’s Perception to be at a level similar to his own and far above the rank and file awakened he’d encountered before.

His second skill was the movement restricting technique he’d used before. It wasn’t particularly powerful, but each time the man used it, he was able to get another shot off. The final skill he showcased was based on movement, and it was by far the most impressive of the bunch. It looked like it was a short-range blink of some kind, with the man disappearing then reappearing four or five meters away.

Despite Kyle’s use of Haste, he wasn’t able to consistently close the distance. He would get close, get bogged down in the second skill, then the man would blink away and repeat the process. That left them in a stalemate, with the deciding factor coming down to a war of attrition. Would Kyle’s armor and healing win out, or would the other man run out of mana and ammunition? Kyle had no intention of finding out. “C.H.A.D.D., do you have a good grasp on his teleportation skill?”

[THE MANA SIGNATURE FOR HIS DESTINATION IS FAIRLY CLEAR, DR. MAYHEW.]

“Overlay it for me the next time he tries to teleport.” One of the major improvements they’d made during their time in Albaum was integrating the inscribed chitin from the Infernal into C.H.A.D.D.’s body. The damaged portion of his arrays were largely replaced with this highly-mana conductive material. While they couldn’t return his mobility, one of the functionalities that returned was the drone’s ability to project holographic images.

Kyle reached to the side of his pack, where he pulled out one of his newly-created experiments. As soon as he saw the overlay C.H.A.D.D. indicated, he threw it. The gunman appeared directly where the drone said he would, and upon materializing, he was immediately struck with a small ball of chitin. The shell on the orb was paper thin, cracking on impact. A cloud of noxious green and brown gas was released, which the man was definitely not prepared for. He ran out of the cloud, coughing and eyes watering from the stench. Unfortunately for him, Kyle was prepared for that reaction. Blows fell on him like rain, cracking bone and knocking the gun out of his hands. Still, the strikes came one after another until the man was lying motionless on the ground.

[I TOLD YOU THE STINKBUG ESSENCE WOULD BE USEFUL, DR. MAYHEW.]

Satisfied that he’d neutralized his opponent, Kyle turned to check on the progress of Garth and his team. The two Mages looked to be exhausted but otherwise uninjured, likely thanks to the efforts of the Healer behind them. His breath caught as he watched Garth. His skills on full display, he repeatedly dashed into and out of Cornelius’s range, leaving thin lines of blood every time he passed. The larger man continued his wild swings, and though there was no doubt that they’d prove lethal if they connected, he was simply too slow.

Kyle thought back to the lessons he’d learned—that technique would make up for raw attributes. He was about to turn away, confident that his friend had it handled. Then he froze, seeing the last member of Garth’s team just a short distance away. Garth’s focus was on the giant before him, and he didn’t notice Terrance until it was too late. One dagger slashed across his back, while the other punched into his kidney. Garth turned, bewilderment clear on his face as he saw his squadmate jump away, giving Cornelius an opportunity to raise his axe for one more strike.

Chapter 77

The world seemed to freeze as Kyle watched Cornelius begin his attack. Even with Haste, Kyle knew he would be too slow to stop it. He didn’t care. Skill on full activation, he rushed toward Garth. Just as the axe began to fall, an explosion of fire and lightning detonated between Garth and Cornelius. They were each blown back, creating much-needed time for Kyle to get there. He looked at the origin of the blasts and saw a chubby man and a young woman with hands outstretched. Both were trembling, though each bore a resolute expression on their faces. Thank you. Kyle’s silent thanks ended as he arrived, just in time to block a follow-up strike from the man with the daggers. The man instantly jumped back, creating several meters of distance between himself and Kyle. “Damn, you’re faster than I heard. Any chance you’d be willing to play with Cornelius and let me clean up here?”

The smoke and dust from the blast were clearing, and Kyle saw the shadow of Cornelius approaching. Garth was still on the ground, blood pooling around him. Think, dammit. What can I do? He knew that, on his own, engaging these two at the same time would be a challenging but winnable fight. With Garth there, the calculations changed dramatically. There was simply no way he could adequately protect and treat the injured man while holding his own against the other two awakened. A weak voice grabbed Kyle’s attention. “Don’t worry about me. Just make these bastards pay.” As if he read Kyle’s thoughts, Garth spoke, his voice rough. “I don’t care if I die here. Just take them down.”

“No time for monologuing,” Kyle responded, grabbing Garth’s body and dashing for his teammates. “Also, this is going to hurt. A lot. But it’s better than dying.” The young people looked panicked at his arrival, and Kyle saw flames begin to dance around the palm of the chubby Mage that came along with them. “I’m on your side. Healer, in the back. Take care of him. Use every ounce of mana you’ve got, and just get him stable. Mages, I know this isn’t fair to ask, but if you see them coming for you, do your best to buy time. I’m going to do what I can to help.”

[BEHIND YOU, DR. MAYHEW.]

No sooner did C.H.A.D.D. finish its warning did the dagger user emerge from the cloud of dust, looking keen to end things quickly. The anger Kyle felt hit a crescendo as he turned to face the man, baton already moving. He intercepted the first dagger, allowing the second to graze harmlessly against his armor. His would-be killer’s eyes opened wide at the response, and Kyle was ready for him. Two, three, four strikes in quick succession pounded the man, causing him to drop one of his weapons. He backstepped quickly, pulling another dagger out of seemingly nowhere. A flashing orange light from C.H.A.D.D. at the left of his vision caused Kyle to instinctively jump back as a baseball-sized stone flew past him like a cannonball. They had spent a lot of time in the past weeks incorporating C.H.A.D.D.’s projections into Kyle’s fighting style, and the results were beginning to show themselves. Kyle dodged another thrown stone, then a third.

Who is—Kyle’s thought was cut short as he saw the bulky form of Cornelius charging toward him, frustration written on his face as his attack with the stones failed to catch the Healer by surprise. Kyle was ready, dashing to meet him. The large man’s body was still covered in wounds, and Kyle struck a particularly nasty cut on the man’s shoulder twice as he effortlessly moved past the swinging axe. If it had any impact, Kyle couldn’t tell as he was forced to dodge a follow-up attack, Cornelius not seeming to slow in the slightest. “C.H.A.D.D., can you give me a picture of what damage that attack caused?”

[IF ANY, IT IS NEGLIGIBLE, DR. MAYHEW.]

That’s not going to work. If it had just been Cornelius and Kyle, he would have felt confident winning the war of attrition. With Garth in critical condition and against multiple opponents, the risk was too high. Something would have to tip the balance. His eye drifted to his hand. Resonance was an option, and he was fairly certain it would be incredibly effective against the bigger man. There was a risk associated with using that technique to connect to another person, and there was a chance that Cornelius could use Kyle’s own mana reserves against him. Of course, there was the other reason too.

Kyle pushed the thought to the back of his mind as he refocused on the battlefield. The man with the daggers was circling around, moving toward where Garth was being treated. C.H.A.D.D. made the tactic useless as Kyle was warned and dashed directly toward him. If I can keep the pressure on him, Cornelius will have to follow. It wasn’t a great plan, but it was something. If these two were stuck focusing on him, it would buy time for the others to get Garth stable and hopefully get out. If that happened, Kyle was confident in his ability to escape as well.

“Why don’t you just leave me alone?” the man with the daggers complained, frantically trying to parry Kyle’s attacks. “What are those people to you anyway? Trust me when I say they’re nothing special.” Kyle didn’t dignify that with a response, instead focusing on the flow of his strikes. With only one weapon against two, his opponent was able to block the majority, even with Haste enhancing their speed. Still, a few made it through. The man dropped a dagger as he disengaged, his right arm falling limply by his side. “You’re good, I’ll give you that much. I wish you’d joined us when you had the chance.”

With that, the man emitted a cloud of smoke, disappearing from view. At least he tried to.

[BEHIND YOU, DR. MAYHEW.] C.H.A.D.D. casually projected orange light in the shape of a man, and Kyle didn’t hesitate.

The man seemed genuinely surprised as he looked down at the orange glow coming off of his body, and moments later, a baton struck the back of his head. He fell to the ground, unmoving. Satisfied that one opponent fell, Kyle looked up and frowned. He didn’t see Cornelius in pursuit, as he’d expected. In fact, he didn’t see him at all. “C.H.A.D.D., where is Cornelius.?”

A shout of pain grabbed his attention as the chubby Mage was thrown off his feet and knocked to the ground. He was clutching his shoulder, a rock having shattered against it. Cornelius hadn’t moved from his previous position, having decided on a different course of action. He seemed to understand that fighting Kyle directly was just an exercise in futility, so he had turned his attention to Garth’s team. They were far weaker, and at this distance, they simply didn’t have the tools to deal with a constant barrage of stones from the giant. Another stone was already in the air, this time striking the Healer treating Garth. The young man was caught squarely in the ribs and was knocked away, eyes widening as he gasped for breath. Kyle ran to interpose himself between the Liberation general and Garth’s team. “Stop it Cornelius! Come fight me like a man!”

The mountainous man just laughed as he threw yet another stone, catching the chubby man in the chest as he stood up and knocking him back to the ground. “What’s wrong, Mayhew? I thought you were going to protect them like the big hero you are.” He hurled another chunk of stone, this time narrowly missing the head of the young woman among the group. She let out a squeal of fear and hunkered down, shaking. I can’t protect them. Kyle was closing the distance as fast as Haste would allow him and saw Cornelius lining up one more shot. “C.H.A.D.D., do it!”

Orange lights glowed over Cornelius’s eyes, and he flinched back as he was momentarily blinded. He threw, but the stone went wide. Kyle closed in, baton flashing out. It struck Cornelius once, twice, three times. Just as he was ready to land the fourth attack, Cornelius once again released a shockwave, knocking Kyle back. The large man met Kyle’s eyes underneath his helmet, hatred clear on his face. His expression made it clear that no matter what happened next, their plans had been ruined. He was furious. With the scowl of a child about to flip over the game board, his eyes darted toward the remnants of Garth’s team.

With a sinking feeling, Kyle knew what Cornelius was going to do. He dashed to intercept the man but was blown back once again as the mountain thundered toward his friend. Haste on full display, Kyle followed. He caught up to Cornelius just as he was getting in range to strike. There was no time to do anything else. Kyle felt the mana swirl around his right hand as he activated Resonance. As the axe rose into the air, Kyle felt his hand touch the other man’s side. The mana linked. Cornelius screamed.

Tucker woke to the sound of Cornelius’s voice crying out in pain. Still dazed, he hurt all over, and the pain helped him to focus. That’s right, I was taken out by Mayhew. He’s stronger than we expected. His eyes widened as he raised his head and saw his friend collapse in a heap, Mayhew’s hand still in the air where it had touched him. Part of him wanted to try to rush in, but the blank look on his old companion’s face told him that it was too late. Cornelius was dead. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be next. He considered his options. His mana reserves were fairly limited after using his skill so liberally against the Mayhew brat, but he didn’t feel that it was appropriate to use the Transportation Array. Valentine was going to be upset enough after all these setbacks; there was no need to pile on more. Fortunately, his opponents seemed to be distracted enough for the moment.

He pushed his movement skill as far as he could, and by the time he was out of mana, he was several kilometers away from their encampment. Even though his travels were slower than he’d like, in just two days, Tucker found himself in the forest outside of Duilleag. His injuries had been aggravated by the journey, and he was barely holding onto consciousness. Still, one thought kept him moving. Valentine isn’t going to let Cornelius die unavenged. Even though taking down the Central Authority was likely now out of their reach, putting down the enemies who ruined their plans was still well within Gregory Valentine’s hand.

“Wow, you look like death warmed over.”

The voice took Tucker by surprise, and he looked up to see Carlyle sitting on a tree branch a few meters off the ground, legs kicking casually in the wind. He jumped down and faced Tucker, an easy smile on his face. “This is great. You and Cornelius managed to really screw it up this time. Where is the big oaf?” Tucker glared at the impetuous young man. “This isn’t a time for joking. Our encampments have fallen, and Cornelius is dead. We need to get to Valentine right away.”

The gaunt man had a thoughtful look on his face, then the smile returned, more predatory than ever before. “So you’re telling me that you managed to ruin everything that Valentine worked for?”

“No, I’m telling you that we have an enemy who did. And we will resolve it. I don’t have time to talk; either help me or get out of the way.” Tucker’s patience for the whelp had been nigh nonexistent to begin with, and he continued to walk toward the town. He walked past the still smiling young man, and as he did something felt… wrong.

Tucker dove as fast as he could, but his injuries made him too slow. The Fireball caught him in his lower back, exploding in a torrent of flame. Tucker coughed, his nose filled with the stench of burning flesh. As he lay in the dirt, he looked up to see Carlyle casually walking toward him.

“You know, my parents were so happy that I was awakened. Valentine was their hero, and they were so excited that I’d get the opportunity to serve him. They pushed me hard, they made me practice, and they gave so much to make me useful to him. Then, right before I’m supposed to meet him, my idol, everything ends. My parents are dead.”

Carlyle was now directly in front of Tucker, looking down at him. “But despite all that, I got to meet him anyway. And you know what happens? You, Cornelius, and Susan treat me like trash. If he could just see what I could do—if he just knew how hard I worked for him—I know he’d want me to work with him. But all of you convinced him to toss me aside. You made my mistakes look worse than your screw ups. Well, you know what, Tucker?” If he had been able to focus, he would have seen a gleam of madness in the other man’s eyes. Instead, his world was slowly going dark, the pain turning to numbness. Carlyle continued, “Now Valentine is finally going to acknowledge me. Because I’ll be all he has left.” With that, a final Fireball crashed into Tucker, and he was no more.

Chapter 78

Kyle’s hand trembled in the air, still in the space where Cornelius had been. I didn’t have a choice. He looked down at the lifeless body of the Liberation commander as he slowly lowered his hand. Resonance was just as effective as he thought it would be, if not more so. Still, this was the first life he’d truly taken. Sure, some of the other raiders he’d encountered may not have survived for long in the wilderness with their injuries, but he’d still left them alive. This was different. One touch. A single surge of mana. A body. Kyle shuddered, unable to look away. He could still hear the large man’s scream echoing in his mind before he fell, lifeless. I didn’t have a choice. He knew that. If Kyle hadn’t used Resonance to end it there, Garth would be dead. His whole squad would be dead. If their roles were reversed, he knew Cornelius wouldn’t have thought twice. His eyes fell on his still-trembling hand, and with effort, he formed a fist. I didn’t have a choice. With that, he turned away from the corpse and turned to Garth’s team.

His triage training kicking in, Kyle evaluated the situation. The young woman seemed unhurt, though she was looking at him with eyes full of fear. He couldn’t blame her. Moving his gaze over the group, he saw that Garth’s wounds had been largely closed up, though the man had lost consciousness. Then there was the matter of the chubby Mage and the Healer. Both had been struck by the stones, and the damage was difficult to evaluate. “C.H.A.D.D., show me what we’re working with.” The drone obliged, indicating multiple broken ribs for the Healer. The Mage had a dislocated shoulder and a cracked sternum. Kyle sighed in relief, thankful that the injuries weren’t life threatening. First, Kyle turned his attention to the young Healer who had been treating Garth. “You did good work, hold on. Kyle focused Heal on the young man, and just a minute later the man sat up. He nodded to Kyle, a pained expression still on his face. “Thank you… sir. How… how did…”

Kyle cut him off. “No time. Get back to treating Garth, I’ll get your friend here up and moving.” The other Healer clearly wanted to press the issue, but ultimately decided it was wiser to listen. Treating the Mage was a similarly quick process, with the chubby man—Joseph—looking between Kyle and the body of Cornelius in open awe. “It’s not something to be envious of,” Kyle finally said as he stood up to walk away. “If there was another option, I would have taken it.”

Joseph stood up, straightening his back. “Well, to me, sir, you saved all of us. I wasn’t strong enough, none of us were. So, thank you.”

Kyle was about to deliver another sharp reply, but before he could, C.H.A.D.D. spoke up.

[DR. MAYHEW AND I ARE GLAD TO HAVE BEEN ABLE TO HELP.]

Joseph looked confused, and Kyle took the hint. Without a word, he walked over to where the Healer—Johannes—was treating Garth. The grizzled swordsman was sitting up, eyes on Kyle. “You look edgier than the last time I saw you. What’s with the get up?”

“You’re just jealous.” Kyle snorted. “If you had some real armor, you wouldn’t be in such a sorry state.”

The older man broke into a grin. “Good to see you, kid. Though we’ve got ourselves quite a mess to deal with here.” Kyle nodded, looking around the camp. Many of the regular soldiers were either incapacitated or had run off. With a frown, he saw that Tucker’s body was missing. A problem for another day. For now, they seemed to have won. That left huddled groups of workers looking on in fear. “You’re not wrong. What are you doing here, Garth? This is a Liberation encampment; I find it hard to believe that DeRosa is working with them knowingly.”

“Before today, I’d never heard of Liberation. All we knew was that this was a more organized group of bandits and that we had a common enemy we could each benefit from removing. Though, from the looks of it, that enemy was you.”

That explained a lot. Still, something was bothering Kyle. “How does that dagger user fit into this? If it wasn’t for him, I think you could have brought Cornelius down.”

“Terrance Banehaus. He was assigned to my squad in the beginning, but something always felt a little off about him. I’m not entirely sure how he was involved in this mess.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t realize what a mess it would be either.” Kyle and Garth both snapped their eyes toward Mary Ellen, who was standing stock still. Behind her, the dagger user pressed a blade against her throat. One of his arms was still useless after Kyle’s attack, but the danger he posed to the Mage was real. “Here’s how this will work. I’m going to go on a little stroll here with Mary Ellen. You’re going to stand right there like the brave heroes you are. When I’m clear, I’ll let her go. Or maybe I won’t. What’s for sure is that if ANY OF YOU MOVE, I’LL RIP HER THROAT OUT.” His cavalier tone was replaced by a violent shout, eyes wide. Kyle and Garth both put their hands up, not wanting to antagonize the man.

Terrance took several slow steps back, a knife still pressed against Mary Ellen. Suddenly, he froze. Mary Ellen fell to the ground, taking a shallow cut on her neck. It took him a moment to realize what she’d done, and Kyle grinned as he activated Haste to get to her side. She had channeled her electric attack and struck Terrance while he was distracted, stunning him and giving her a moment to escape. The man looked to the woman on the ground as he shook with the electricity running through his body. His eyes were murder, and the dagger began to plunge toward her.

For the second time that day, a blast of fire saved the day. Joseph’s outstretched hand still had wisps of flame, and he wasn’t done yet. “Get away from her!” With a determination that Kyle hadn’t expected from the chubby Mage, he cast Fireball after Fireball. They were small and much weaker than the ones he’d seen from Carlyle, but what they lacked in potency, they made up for in number. Terrance found himself pushed back by a series of small explosions until he finally fell to the ground. Joseph panted as he looked at the smoking form of his former teammate, then looked to Mary Ellen. Kyle had gotten to her side, and a quick application of Heal saw to the wound on her neck. She nodded her thanks before running to Joseph and giving him a hug, tears in her eyes. Kyle made out the words she kept repeating over and over. “Thank you.” Joseph seemed numb, just holding on to the young woman. Turning back to Garth, Kyle spoke up. “Get the workers, take your team, and get back to Nierburg. There are people here who need help, and I can’t do it all on my end.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” Garth’s response took Kyle by surprise, and he looked at the other man, bewildered.

“What do you mean by that?”

“These are the bastards who took Duilleag. I’ll never get a better opportunity than this to take them down.”

“Garth, it’s a bad idea. Assuming that ranger makes it back, that would leave them with three powerful awakened, not to mention the soldiers. It’d be suicide.”

“That may well be. I don’t care. If I go back to Nierburg, DeRosa will just have me holed up watching the gate until I die of old age. This is the only chance I have, and I’m going to take it. At least I’ll make them bleed for what they’ve done.”

Kyle saw the steel in the older man’s eyes and knew the conversation wasn’t going to end productively. He decided to change tactics. “Do you really think these kids are going to be enough to get these people to Nierburg safely? They have injuries, Garth.”

At that, Garth’s eyes softened, if only a bit. “Fine. We’ll get them close, then I’m off to Duilleag.”

“You’re being way too stubborn about this. I’m telling you—you won’t be able to storm the settlement. All you’ll accomplish is dying.”

Garth snorted in derision. “I could have said the same about you attacking this camp. A Healer charges into a camp against trained soldiers and comes out on top. I figure I can’t do too much worse.”

Kyle fought down his rising frustration. “Garth, I’m not happy with what I did here. I don’t regret helping these people, but I’m not happy about what it took to do it. I killed a man today.” Kyle took a deep breath after saying the words, somehow making it more real. “You running off to die doesn’t serve anybody.”

Garth seemed to stop and think for a moment before he spoke. “I know it’s selfish. I also know that DeRosa is never going to give resources to pursue this. I made a decision a while back to choose a skill that I knew they wouldn’t have approved. I was waiting for a time like this, and now I have it. This is something I have to do, and even if I die, I’m not going to budge from this, Kyle.”

Kyle considered the other man for a moment before sighing. “This conversation isn’t over, Garth. For now, let’s get them organized.”

The next couple of hours were spent salvaging supplies and organizing the workers left in the camp. As they began their journey toward Nierburg, they decided on a plan. Days later, they made it to a crossroads. With a solemn nod, Joseph led the remnants of Garth’s team to Nierburg with the workers, where he would pass along the message that Terrance was killed and Garth was missing. Offering their goodbyes, Garth and Kyle turned to pursue their foes in Duilleag.

Chapter 79

The early days traveling as a group were largely focused on organizing logistics and unifying the message, and now that they had parted ways, Garth found that he wasn’t entirely sure what to say. He and Kyle had traveled in silence for over an hour, neither man seeming willing to break it. Even C.H.A.D.D. was uncharacteristically quiet. As the hour turned into two, Garth decided to break the stalemate. “I thought you died, kid. What the hell happened to you? And what’s going on with C.H.A.D.D.?”

“Short answer, a lot. Including barely escaping the town, you’re so eager to go attack.”

[DON’T FORGET TO TELL HIM THAT I CAN ATTRACT INSECTS NOW, DR. MAYHEW.]

Kyle sighed. “Also, C.H.A.D.D. can attract insects now.”

[THANK YOU, DR. MAYHEW.]

Garth tried, poorly, to stifle his laugh with a cough. “Good for you, C.H.A.D.D.” Turning to Kyle, his tone got more serious. “The drone’s behavior is far from what it should be, Kyle. Something’s wrong here.”

Before Kyle could reply, C.H.A.D.D. did. [MR. BOLTSBURY, I AM WELL AWARE THAT THERE HAVE BEEN SOME DEVIATIONS FROM MY PROGRAMMING. I AM MAKING THE MOST OF IT AND AM MOST CERTAINLY AN ASSET TO DR. MAYHEW.]

Kyle nodded. “What he said. The pack should be able to insulate from much further deterioration, and to be honest, I’m not entirely sure how necessary that even is. Like I said, a lot has happened.”

Garth met Kyle’s eyes. “That’s good enough for me. And C.H.A.D.D., I’m sorry I questioned you. Still, I hope you both know I meant what I said before. You don’t need to come with me if you’re so certain we’re just throwing our lives away.”

“I’m hoping I can get you to see the reason before you get there. Garth, you should have seen the way Cornelius looked at Valentine. If he’s as strong as I think he is, you’re not going to win. That’s not even talking about Carlyle or any of the other awakened he has at his disposal.”

“I’m not going to sit on my hands anymore, Kyle. If I go back, that’s all that’ll be left for me. Hell, they might throw me out entirely if they found out I didn’t report a Level 40 skill selection.”

Kyle paused for a moment before he responded, his voice dripping with venom. “You’re right. Probably better off dead than being thrown out by the Central Authority. Rotting by the side of the road is much preferred to being considered deviant.” He spat the last word.

“That’s not what I—” Garth tried to respond, but Kyle didn’t give him the opportunity.

“It’s exactly what you meant and you know it. Well, guess what? It turns out that you can still help people without being a card-carrying member of the thrice-damned DeRosa fan club. And if you really think that death is preferable to being deviant, you’re welcome to try and start with me. Because right now I feel like punching you in the face, and that would make a good excuse.”

[I FIND IT PERTINENT TO REMIND YOU THAT STRIKING RESIDENTS IS GROUNDS FOR A DISCIPLINARY HEARING, DR. MAYHEW.]

“What if they deserve it?”

[I’LL SEE IF AN EXCEPTION CAN BE MADE.]

Garth felt the heat rise in his face as he fought back the urge to meet the Healer’s words. At the end of the day, he knew Kyle was right. So, despite his anger, he took a breath and met the younger man’s eyes. “I’m sorry. My words were thoughtless. I’m glad you survived, both of you. At the same time, I’m asking you to understand that I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t get closure here. She deserves it, if nothing else.”

Kyle seemed to deflate a bit at that, the tension between them beginning to dissolve. “I know, Garth. I have some questions I would like to get answered too. Even though I wouldn’t choose to look for those answers now if I had a choice.”

“Then why are you coming along?” Garth asked, no hint of judgment in the question.

“I don’t have many friends left, and I’m not going to let one of them die when I could do something to stop it.” The words were simple, without a hint of bravado. Ordinarily, Garth would have dressed down any fighter in his command who would bluster like that. Looking at what the young man had accomplished, Garth knew that this was something entirely different. Still, he felt the need to push the issue, at least a little. “After that big speech about Valentine, you really think you’re strong enough to make that kind of a difference, huh?”

“I know I am.”

With a snort, Garth smiled. “You’ve come quite a ways, Kyle. You said that it’s a long story, and I think we have time.”

The young man nodded. “Then I’ll start at the beginning.”

Days passed as the two men traveled, Kyle sharing the bulk of what had happened to them after their parting. The young man was open about everything they’d been through, punctuated by C.H.A.D.D. projecting scans of the events. Garth was frankly shocked at the kinds of creatures they’d overcome. Still, he wasn’t sure if he bought Kyle’s idea that the destruction of their world was related to this strange presence he claimed he’d encountered. Garth thought it was more likely that they were experiencing the side effects of their prolonged time out in the wild. Even so, he kept his thoughts to himself. Those were issues that could be dealt with down the road; for now, they had more pressing matters. Garth looked at the familiar road in the midday light. Even though so much had happened, he could still picture in his mind’s eye his first battle with Carlyle. He could smell the burnt flesh. He looked to where Gwen and Stephanie were nearly killed. “Are you okay?” Kyle asked, genuine concern in his voice.

“I will be. We’re almost there.” With that, the two men fell silent. Just minutes later, C.H.A.D.D. warned them of a Liberation patrol approaching. Circling the settlement, they had a stroke of luck. The northernmost entry to the city was almost entirely unguarded.

“I don’t like it, Garth. Something’s wrong here.”

“Yeah, they just took massive losses and are regrouping. This is exactly the kind of opportunity I expected we would find. C.H.A.D.D., you confirmed that there are no life signatures in the area, right?”

[THAT IS CORRECT, MR. BOLTSBURY.]

“See? There’s no ambush waiting here. We get in, find Valentine and Carlyle, and take them down.”

“And then what, Garth? It won’t bring her back. I told you I’m in this with you, but if there’s any way you’re willing to stop, I’m asking now.”

In response, Garth simply stood up and started making his way toward the perimeter of the city. As they got closer, Kyle’s Auric Perception began to pick something up. It was faint, and he almost missed it. Focusing, he was able to barely make out thin threads of mana. “Garth, stop!”

It was too late. The threads began to glow, illuminating a web that covered the unoccupied northern portion of the city. Garth jumped back, and glowing tendrils seemed to be slowly reaching for him. Suddenly they sprang forth, dozens of thin lances of fire. The grizzled fighter dodged most, though a few were able to graze him with light burns. Kyle immediately went to work, channeling Heal to bring his friend back to full health. As he did, he turned to Garth. “We need to get out of here; there’s no way they didn’t spot us.”

“At least you’ve got enough brains to know that much.” Carlyle’s voice rang out, and they both turned. A thin man in mottled clothing appeared near the entrance to the city, facing the duo with his hands in his uniform pockets. “You did a number on our forces, but I can’t believe you were stupid enough to come here alone. I was really hoping to catch a bunch of you on the web. Oh well, you’ll die here all the same. I warned you not to come back, Mayhew, and now you’ll pay for it.”

Kyle and Garth had both taken their stances, facing the Mage. He seems way too calm to be facing down both of us. Kyle’s gut told him that something was wrong, and before C.H.A.D.D. could even finish his warning, Kyle was turning. His baton met a sword, then a dagger. The impact from Valentine’s swings nearly threw him off balance, and he struggled to hold on to his stance. The Liberation leader pressed his attack, vaulting back just in time as Garth launched an Air Blade at him, creating room. Valentine took a comfortable stance as he addressed them.

“I heard so much about you, Boltsbury. I really wish you could have seen reason, would have loved to have you. Same to you, Mayhew.” His voice grew hard. “You bastards ruined decades of work with your little stunt the other day. Cost me some good men. You’ll die for that.” With that, Valentine charged. At the same time, a glowing sphere flew toward them from the Fire Mage still standing near the entrance of the city. Kyle intercepted the orb with a ball of his own, rancid smelling gas exploding in a cloud as it met the Fireball.

“Get Carlyle! I’ll hold Valentine until then.” Garth’s tone left no room for discussion, and Kyle jumped to follow his orders. He heard the clash of steel behind him as his friend engaged the Liberation leader, and with a steadying breath, focused his attention on the Mage. He hadn’t wanted this fight. Unfortunately, now that he was in it, he didn’t have a choice. Another Fireball came flying in his direction, and he realized what Carlyle was doing. He wasn’t aiming for Kyle; he was aiming for Garth. With no immediate options, Kyle activated Haste and blocked the skill with his body. Heat seared him, and he cried out in pain. He was thankful not to be wearing metal armor, or he would have been cooked where he stood. Looking at his opponent as the smoke cleared, he knew he was about to be in for the fight of his life.

Chapter 80

Garth heard explosions ringing out behind him, but he didn’t have the luxury to look back. All his attention was focused on the fighter in front of him. Gregory Valentine casually twirled the dagger in his left hand as his eyes sized up Garth. If Garth hadn’t seen him nearly gut Kyle just moments before, he would have thought Valentine was too cocky. After watching him move, however, he knew better. Kyle was right. I might be out of my league here. As if reading Garth’s thoughts, Valentine made his move. Garth parried a casual swing with the sword, then backstepped as a dagger swiped toward his stomach. Before he could even consider a counterattack, he was forced to block another downward slash from the sword.

Valentine’s combination flowed seamlessly, one attack into another. Still, Garth was no slouch. Despite being on the back foot, his defense held. It’s going to come down to one decisive blow. Garth’s experience told him just how precarious his situation was. Like the surface of a lake, the smallest disturbance would send ripples. His best hope was to hold on and try to find time to turn the tables with a single strike.

Unfortunately for him, Gregory Valentine had other ideas. “Not bad, Boltsbury. It’s clear you didn’t earn your position as a captain behind a desk.” With that, he vanished. Garth didn’t hesitate. He instantly activated FLEET FOOT and dashed forward, feeling a breeze as a blade passed through where his neck was just a moment before. He turned quickly, hoping that the distance he covered would create an opportunity to use Air Blade. Instead, he frantically raised his sword, blocking a thrust aimed for his throat. His speed is incredible.

Garth found himself once again being pushed back by his opponent’s onslaught, each attack coming in quicker succession. Valentine’s attacks were precise, with a singular focus on delivering lethal blows. Soon, his defense began to falter. Small cuts were beginning to accumulate, and Garth knew that the war of attrition was one he was going to lose. Beyond the changes in the man’s attack speed, the most startling change was his expression. Valentine had started the fight with an almost bored look on his face, but now he wore a fierce grin, eyes wide in enjoyment. This bastard’s having fun while I’m fighting for my life. His mind went to Crystal, to her body slumped against that tree. Familiar anger and hurt built in his chest, and for the first time in a while, he didn’t try to suppress it. I’m at least going to make you bleed.

Garth blocked another series of strikes, waiting for his opportunity. As the dagger made its pass toward his arm, instead of blocking, he activated Unshaken Resolve and allowed the weapon to strike him squarely. It bit into him, but the mana infusing his muscles and skin prevented the blow from causing major damage. With satisfaction, Garth saw Valentine’s eyes widen in surprise as he stepped forward, bringing his blade down in an arc toward the man’s head. Valentine’s sword flickered up as fast as lightning. It wasn’t enough to block the strike entirely, but instead it struck the flat of the blade, knocking it aside. It still left a nasty cut on Valentine’s forearm as the man disengaged. He looked at Garth with what could only be described as a mix of admiration and hatred. “You’re much better than I gave you credit for. I can see why Cornelius couldn’t handle you.”

“Stop talking and fight.” Garth growled, already channeling mana into his arms in preparation to use Air Blade.

“Have it your way.” Valentine disappeared once again, and Garth turned around and immediately launched his attack behind him. He’d hoped to catch the man by surprise, but nobody was there. Pain exploded across Garth’s back as a sword carved a gash, limited somewhat by Unshaken Resolve. A quick use of FLEET FOOT created distance, and he turned once again to meet Valentine’s flashing weapons. “Don’t underestimate me, Boltsbury. I didn’t get where I am by sitting behind a desk either.” Dammit, he’s right. Garth had gotten hasty to end the fight, and that had led to him getting careless. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Garth did his best to defend. Hopefully, Kyle can take care of Carlyle and get here soon.

Kyle swore as he was hit by another Fireball. The pain was excruciating, but there was nothing for it other than pushing more mana through Regeneration. He pulled the chitin chain tight to his body, the ropes that held his pack long having burned away. Even with Haste active, Carlyle was able to keep his distance using his own boosting skill.

[DR. MAYHEW, I THINK IT WOULD BE IN YOUR INTEREST TO TRY TO AVOID THE EXPLODING BLASTS OF FIRE.]

“Thanks, C.H.A.D.D., I hadn’t considered that.” His voice came out in a dry rasp, reinforcing how much trouble he was in. Carlyle had created a brutal but effective strategy—by aiming all his attacks at Garth, Kyle had to choose between taking the damage himself or guaranteeing that his friend would die. Even in a fair fight, Kyle gave the overwhelming odds to Valentine. With Carlyle’s interference, it wasn’t a question at all. With the way he figured it out, he had two options. He could continue as he had, hoping that Garth came out on top and was still in a condition to fight.

If Garth lost, Kyle would find himself in a losing fight against both Carlyle and Valentine, a battle that he would almost assuredly lose. His other choice was to let Carlyle attack Garth and use the opportunity to close the distance. He was confident in his ability to beat the Mage in close-quarters combat, and from there he could turn his attention to Valentine. It was the choice with a much better chance of survival, at the cost of his friend. Think, dammit. How do we turn this around? Kyle’s mind was working furiously as he tried to think of another solution. An idea came to mind as he looked at the chain in his hand, even though he didn’t like it. “C.H.A.D.D., how are you holding up? Do you think you could handle one more Fireball?”

The drone paused for a moment before responding. Finally, it spoke. [I CAN DO IT, DR. MAYHEW. ALTHOUGH AFTER THIS, I WOULDN’T MIND SOME TIME AWAY FROM LARGE EXPLOSIONS.]

“Thanks buddy. I’ll owe you one.”

[YOU OWE ME AT LEAST THREE, DR. MAYHEW.]

Their conversation was cut short as Carlyle threw yet another blast of fire careening toward Garth and Valentine, and Kyle didn’t hesitate. Using Resonance, he broke one of the chain links closest to his armor. With a quick turn, he swung the C.H.A.D.D. pack like a flail, intercepting the Fireball before it could get close. The blast kicked up smoke and dust, giving Kyle cover. With Haste on full power, he dashed toward Carlyle. The mage’s eyes went wide as the black-clad Healer burst out of the cloud, baton in hand. As he closed in, he felt the heat radiating off the man practically burning him. Still, Kyle wasn’t going to let this opportunity go to waste. At this range, Fireball would catch both of them. My win. Carlyle threw a punch with surprising speed, and Kyle countered by striking the fist with his baton. He heard the crunch of bones and rotated to follow-up with a strike to the elbow of the same arm, watching it bend unnaturally from the force. He wasn’t done.

Another strike hit Carlyle in the ribs, and he saw his opportunity to finish it with a strike to his opponent’s skull. As his baton continued its arc, Kyle saw a glowing orb of fire in Carlyle’s good hand. A moment later, he was thrown back by a massive explosion. The heat was intense, and Kyle pushed even more of his dwindling mana into Regeneration. He wanted to pursue, but the surprise of the attack and the damage it inflicted caused him to hesitate.

Carlyle was also thrown back by the explosion, and as the dust cleared, Kyle saw that he looked awful. His uniform and all his hair had been burned off, and he was standing wreathed in flame. Head to toe, he was covered in ever-increasing burns. There’s no way he survives this. Then Kyle realized, looking at the man, as hopelessness crept into his chest. He’s not trying to live through this; he’s just trying to make sure we lose. Carlyle’s gambit had created distance once again, and Kyle was out of options. Even though the man wasn’t going to survive the burns he’d inflicted on himself, he would still be able to buy time. Kyle wasn’t confident in healing through many more attacks, and a glance toward Garth showed him that his friend wasn’t holding up much better. Dammit.

Garth and Valentine continued their fight, with Garth’s wounds continuing to accumulate. An explosion larger than any before grabbed both their attention, and they each glanced to see Kyle on his knees, with Carlyle completely engulfed in flames. It looked like he was trying to scream something, but his voice looked to have been burned away some time ago. Their fight resumed, with the image of Carlyle’s burning form caught in Garth’s mind. It had put a mirror up to him, and he could see himself in the flames. His hatred, his desire for revenge, and his desire to die.

He knew this fight was a fool’s errand, and Kyle had come with him anyway. Now Garth’s vengeance would get them both killed. He tried to find satisfaction in the fact that Carlyle didn’t seem to have much time left, but even that felt hollow. What am I doing here? The question repeated as his sword continued to clash against Valentine’s blades, chips being bitten out in every exchange. Is this really it? Is this how I wanted to die? The answer came to him with clarity. No. He knew Kyle wouldn’t abandon him here, just as he knew he wouldn’t be able to beat Valentine. His pride had brought them there, and his pride would cost them both their lives.

In that moment, Garth came to a decision. He took a wide swing at Valentine, forcing the man to dodge back before closing in to take advantage of the opening it created. Garth wasn’t aiming at Valentine, though, instead channeling his mana through his arms and into his sword. Air Blade shot out in a lateral arc, heading straight for Carlyle. The force of the technique was too much for his sword to handle, the blade shattering into dozens of pieces from the strain.

The burning man didn’t even seem to notice he was under attack, his attention focused on gathering energy to finish off the still-recovering Kyle. The condensed wave of mana caught him just above the shoulder, passing through with virtually no resistance. Carlyle’s body fell headless to the ground, and at the same moment, Garth felt mana drill into his back. He looked down to see a wave of energy pass through him, a fist-sized hole opened in his stomach. Unshaken Resolve was blown away instantly by the attack as another slash ripped into his back. This time, it bit deep without his defensive skill to limit the damage. The pain was already fading to numbness, and Garth looked up at Kyle. Get out of here, kid. I’m sorry.

Chapter 81

Kyle pumped as much mana as he could into Regeneration, hoping beyond hope that the healing would be enough. He could tell that Carlyle was preparing for another attack, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to take it. The pain from being burned with Haste active was intense, and the recovery hurt almost as bad. His Auric Perception told him that the incoming attack was imminent, and he braced for impact. Then, as quickly as it started, the mana condensing around the charred figure dissipated as a gale wind blew past. Kyle saw his opponent fall to the ground, head separated from his shoulders. Excitement bloomed in his chest. You did it! You magnificent bastard, you pulled it off! He turned toward where Garth and Valentine had been fighting, and time stood still.

Valentine stood behind his friend, who had fallen to the ground. Blood dripped off both of the Liberation leader’s weapons as the man began to approach Kyle. “What a mess. I knew Boltsbury had a grudge against Carlyle, but I didn’t think he was willing to throw his life away to take him out.” Valentine spoke casually, more like somebody taking a leisurely walk than a man who just survived a duel to the death. “Just stand right there, I’ll make it quick.”

With that, Valentine moved. It was the same skill that he’d used before, and Kyle could feel the intense mana pouring off his body. Kyle didn’t think. His seemingly endless hours of training kicked in, and with Haste active, he dodged the blade coming at the back of his neck. His baton met the dagger, and he instinctually counterattacked toward Valentine’s head. The older man dodged, but the speed and precision of Kyle’s attack clearly surprised him. With a snarl, Valentine re-engaged. In terms of skill, Kyle was outmatched.

The leader of Liberation seemed to understand that as well as Kyle did, which likely only contributed to his frustration as the Healer continued to stand his ground. While some strikes made it through, Kyle’s baton always seemed to find a way to redirect the most dangerous attacks. Glancing blows against his armor were turned aside, barely leaving a scratch against the shining chitin. The pace of the attacks picked up as Valentine’s scowl grew deeper. “Just die already! You’re just prolonging the inevitable.” Kyle couldn’t bring himself to respond. His mind kept going back to Garth’s body, unmoving on the ground. Too weak to make a difference.

Kyle raised his baton to intercept the sword aimed at his throat, allowing the dagger to slip into a seam in his armor, only leaving a shallow cut against his Enhanced Carapace. Slapping his side with his free hand and activating Heal, Kyle felt the bleeding stem. Regeneration was already hard at work knitting together the worst of the cut, and moments later it was as though he’d never been hit. He finally found his words as he met Valentine’s eyes. “Why are you doing this? So many people have died, and for what?” Their weapons rang out as they clashed again, this time Kyle managing to block both of Valentine’s strikes.

“Of course you don’t understand,” Valentine sneered, parrying the baton with his dagger as he countered with a thrust. “You’re a spoiled, coddled brat. You’ve never seen the rotten core of the Central Authority. The corruption needs to be cut out at the root—if that means death, so be it!” His voice was rising now as he unleashed a flurry of cuts. Kyle blocked what he could with his weapon, allowing his armor to absorb the rest. Despite everything going on, he couldn’t help but marvel at the durability of the material. He was snapped back to the present as Valentine activated his movement skill again, disappearing from sight. Unfortunately for the Liberation leader, his position was perfectly clear to Kyle’s Auric Perception, the mana pouring out of his body easy to detect. Once again, Valentine’s attempted surprise attack was blocked. His face was a mask of twisted rage, spittle sticking to his mustache as he screamed. “JUST DIE! YOU COST ME EVERYTHING, YOU PATHETIC MAGGOT! YOU CAN’T HURT ME. YOU CAN’T HIT ME. JUST DIE!”

His attacks came with ever-increasing ferocity, and Kyle had to admit that Valentine was right about one thing—Kyle couldn’t hit him. While two weapons weren’t strictly better than one, the difference in experience and technique meant that there was just no way for Kyle to balance his offense and defense. While he could protect his vitals, it took nearly all of his concentration to do so. In the rare opportunities he had to counterattack, Valentine was able to defend. Even if his attacks made it through, it would take a lot of strikes with his baton to put the man down.

They had another exchange, resulting in Kyle’s left arm taking a cut just above the elbow. Without the ability to rest a hand on it and activate Heal, he relied on Regeneration to slowly mend the wound. Valentine spit as he talked, eyes bulging in anger. “How much longer can you keep this up? You’re a cockroach that doesn’t realize it’s already dead. Clark would be embarrassed to see what you’ve become.” The words hit Kyle harder than anything Valentine had done so far. Heat built in his chest, and he felt a moment of terrible, perfect clarity. Everything he’d been through these months—the pain, the struggle—all of it was to honor his grandfather’s legacy.

“What did you say?” Kyle’s voice was cold, his eyes focused more than ever before on the enemy before him. If he noticed, Valentine didn’t seem to care.

“I said you’re a worthless little cockroach and that Clark would be ashamed at what you’ve become. You spat on everything he lived for. You ruined everything he worked for. If he could have seen how you would turn out, he never would have had children.”

Kyle thought about his grandfather’s sacrifice for him, the look of pride in his eyes when Kyle entered medical school. He thought about the stories, the laughter, the taste of marshmallows cooked over a fire. He remembered lying out under the night sky, watching the stars. And this man has the nerve to say those words.

Kyle snapped. “How dare you.” His voice was quiet but carried unmistakable malice. There was no high-mindedness left. This wasn’t about Liberation or the treatment of the unawakened. It wasn’t about the Central Authority, it wasn’t even about Garth, not anymore. No, in this moment, Kyle hated Gregory Valentine. He had the nerve to twist Clark’s legacy, and he would pay for that. Kyle swung viciously for his opponent’s head, and Valentine predictably blocked with his sword. Mana gathered around the hand holding the dagger, and he plunged it toward Kyle’s stomach.

Valentine wore a victorious smile as the strike drilled through Kyle’s armor and into his flesh. Confusion replaced it as the dagger barely penetrated a few centimeters deep when he knew it should have been a death blow. Confusion swiftly turned to horror as Kyle grabbed his arm with his left hand. With his right, Kyle let go of the baton and grabbed Valentine’s sword arm. “Never speak his name again.” Regeneration was already at work in his body, mending the damage from the attack. Between his armor and Enhanced Carapace, the strike that should have blown a hole through him was stopped short of even piercing an organ.

Tightening his grip, Kyle activated Resonance. He instantly felt the resistance, much more than he’d ever encountered before. Valentine struggled against Kyle’s grip while also trying to maintain control of the mana in his body. Unfortunately for him, he had never invested heavily into his Willpower attribute, whereas for Kyle, it was one of his strongest. He overpowered Valentine’s mana as he wrested control away, and the man screamed as the bones and muscles in his right arm twisted and shattered.

The flow of mana continued up through his shoulder and into his torso, and Kyle felt the resistance spike as Valentine desperately tried to stop the mana from destroying his vitals. As before, the defenses were dismantled as Kyle continued his grisly work. In a last-ditch effort, Valentine lifted both his legs and kicked off of Kyle’s chest with both feet. The move startled the Healer, who relaxed his grip, allowing Valentine to break free. He landed on his feet, coughing up blood as he did so.

Kyle’s attack may not have killed him, but the internal damage was incredible. Bloodshot eyes full of hate met Kyle’s. “This isn’t over.” With that, Gregory Valentine pulled a small device with his good hand, dropping his dagger in the process. Kyle recognized it as a Transportation Array—the same type that Cornelius used to save him what felt like a lifetime ago. Before he could close the distance, Valentine was gone.

Exhausted, Kyle walked to where Garth’s body still lay. His eyes widened in shock when he felt that his friend was still alive, if just barely. Without a moment’s hesitation, he rested his hand on the hole in his friend’s midsection. “Don’t die on me. Please, Garth. Don’t die on me.” Kyle activated Heal, but his mana reserves were almost empty. Between recovering from Carlyle’s attacks and the fight with Valentine, he was running on fumes. He activated Resonance to try to tap into Garth’s mana, using the skill for its intended purpose for the first time since acquiring it. His heart sank as the connection was established. Garth was nearly as low on mana as Kyle was, and between the two of them, they didn’t have nearly enough energy to stabilize the grizzled soldier. Despair was beginning to set in as Kyle wracked his brain to try to find something—anything—to help his friend. He’d already lost so much blood, and the injuries he’d sustained were major.

Even pushing Heal to its limits, a full recovery wasn’t a certainty. What can I do? There was simply nothing around him he could use. Nobody he could tap with Resonance was nearby, and even if the drone was willing, there was no way he’d risk draining C.H.A.D.D. As he felt the atmospheric mana around him, he had a flash of inspiration. With a deep breath, he sent out tendrils of seeking mana from every inch of his body. If he couldn’t connect to a person, who was to say he wouldn’t be able to connect to the atmosphere itself?

He would have felt much more comfortable attempting something like this with C.H.A.D.D. to comment on the specifics, but there was simply no time. There! He felt the tendrils connect, and power like nothing he’d felt before began to flow into his body. In just a moment, he was overwhelmed, mana rushing through him like a river spilling over its banks. Without hesitating, he pressed his hand harder on Garth’s wound and activated Heal. He concentrated the mana as much as he could into the skill, feeling the strain mount in his arm and hand. Fortunately, his experiences with Haste made him no stranger to pain. He could see the wounds visibly closing, but he didn’t let up. Only once the pain became too much to bear did he release his connection to the atmospheric mana, falling in a heap beside his friend. His body had been pushed too hard, and now all he could do was wait, recover, and hope that it had been enough to save Garth.

Chapter 82

The damage from channeling the atmospheric mana was worse than Kyle expected. In contrast to the burns from Carlyle, this wasn’t a searing pain, but rather a bitter cold and numbness. His right arm was particularly bad after channeling so much of the energy through, and he could barely twitch his fingers. Still, Kyle knew that he needed to get up and move. Even though it was only a few minutes, it felt like hours of hard work to bring himself to a sitting position. Despite Carlyle and Valentine being dealt with, there were still Liberation soldiers present in Duilleag.

Kyle hoped that they wouldn’t investigate too soon, as in his current condition, he wasn’t confident dealing with them. Wincing in pain, he turned to look at Garth. His body still looked to be in rough condition, even though the wounds were replaced with angry scars. Was I too late? The question hung in Kyle’s mind as he looked at his friend, until he saw it. It was shallow, but Garth had taken a breath. YES!

The sight reinvigorated Kyle. He reached out with his left hand, pouring what little mana he had managed to recover into Garth. Even if it didn’t do much, the young Healer knew that his friend had a long road left, and every little bit counted. Several minutes later, Kyle felt well enough to stand up, though shaky on his feet. With effort, he was able to stabilize himself and take a few steps.

[REALLY, DR. MAYHEW. I DIDN’T EXPECT IT WOULD TAKE YOU SO LONG TO COME GET ME.]

“I’m sorry, C.H.A.D.D., and I fully imagine I’ll get an earful. Right now, Garth needs us. Do you think you can put the lecture on hold?” There was a prolonged moment of silence, then the drone responded.

[THAT IS ACCEPTABLE. THOUGH I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW YOUR RECKLESS ATTITUDE WITH CENTRAL HEALTH EQUIPMENT WILL BE GOING IN YOUR FILE.]

“I can handle that.”

Kyle picked up the drone, and they made their way back to Garth. “I’ve got the worst of the injury patched up, but I don’t know the full extent of the damage. What can you see?”

With that, the drone offered its expertise. As Kyle feared, there was still a significant amount of internal damage that he hadn’t been able to heal. The worst of it was from the skill Valentine had used to punch a hole through his friend. The damage required a nuanced touch to heal, and without clear direction, Kyle just wasn’t able to do the delicate work with enough consistency. He thought about his grandfather and the injuries he carried with him decades after he last saw combat.

If he had received better treatment, there was a chance it could have worked out differently for him. Fortunately, working alongside C.H.A.D.D. allowed him to do better. The drone was able to direct him toward the worst of the damage, and Kyle followed the instructions as close to the letter as he could. His years of training in internal medicine showed their value as he treated the injuries.

Periodically, Kyle glanced at the city as he worked, and by some miracle, nobody from Duilleag approached. Nearly an hour later, he got the all-clear. Transporting a patient in Garth’s condition was dangerous, and in normal circumstances, he wouldn’t dare attempt it. However, a patrol could come out at any moment, and Kyle gauged that risk to be greater than the risk from transport. Despite being exhausted, his body was still that of a peak E Grade. He was confident that he could get the three of them somewhere safer without too much risk. He set the C.H.A.D.D. pack across Garth’s chest and gently lifted. His Exoskeletal Musculature allowed him to lift them with minimal issues, and he made his way into the surrounding forest to find shelter.

“Think you can jostle me no more? Valentine clearly couldn’t finish the job, but at the rate you’re going, you might.” Kyle nearly dropped the man in surprise at the sound of his voice, and looked down to see Garth’s eyes partway open, a weak smile on his face.

[DR. MAYHEW REALLY SHOULD WORK ON THAT. I COULD TELL YOU A THING OR TWO ABOUT HIS JOSTLING. WHY, THERE WAS THIS BUG, YOU SEE, AND⁠—]

“I think our patient needs some rest, C.H.A.D.D. You can tell him the story later.”

[CERTAINLY, DR. MAYHEW. WHAT DO I KNOW, IT’S NOT AS THOUGH I’M A QUALIFIED DIAGNOSTIC DRONE.]

“The little fella may have a point, Kyle.”

“If you don’t both knock it off, I’m leaving you in Duilleag.” That earned Kyle some well-earned silence, and he found a spot to rest shortly after. The remains of the road sloped upward, and below it there was a small recess. It was barely visible, with fallen trees obscuring much of it. Perfect. Kyle got Garth settled in and turned to C.H.A.D.D. “How’s the damage looking?”

To its credit, the drone was all business when it mattered. [MUCH OF THE TEARING REOPENED DURING TRANSPORTATION. INTERNAL BLEEDING IS STILL A CONCERN. CHIPS OF BONE ARE STILL PRESENT WHERE THE LACERATION ON THE BACK STRUCK THE SPINE.] Not great, but I can work with it. The journey had allowed Kyle to recover more mana, and he put it to work. Garth remained silent, only grunting in pain occasionally as the Healer once again depleted his reserves.

When Kyle finished his work, Garth finally spoke, his voice soft. “What happened back there?”

Kyle considered how to respond, not sure if he was ready to unpack everything that had gone into his final confrontation with Valentine. He saw Garth’s eyes drift down to the hole in his armor, damage mirroring the strike that had nearly killed him. When he saw that Kyle wasn’t ready to talk, he spoke again. “You don’t have to answer now. Just know that whatever you did, I know you saved my life. Thank you.” With that, Garth closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep. Kyle considered the man’s words. That’s not right. Kyle didn’t fight Valentine to save Garth. He didn’t even know that Garth was alive until he made his way over. He tried to kill the Liberation leader because he’d wanted to. Exactly like the monster you’ve become. The bitter thought entered his mind, and he sighed as he leaned back against the side of the wall. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, but something else had been grabbing his attention. Satisfied that Garth was stable, he entered meditation. That was when he saw the confirmation:

KYLE MAYHEW. ARTHRO-HUMAN CHIMERA (AWAKENED), HEALER. LEVEL 75 (MAX)

D GRADE EVOLUTION AVAILABLE

Gregory Valentine felt the mana condense around him as he activated his Transportation Array. It was everything he could do to hold onto consciousness, and he knew he was in grave danger. Fortunately, he’d had the foresight to plan for the possibility of losing Duilleag. He’d set up his Transportation Array to have a second location, a hidden base that only he knew about. The world around him blurred as he began to travel, though instead of stabilizing, the area around him seemed to blur even more. He felt the mana begin to destabilize, and for a moment, he thought he was going to be ripped apart by the opposing forces. Soon, however, the blurring began to slow, but the sight that greeted him wasn’t what he expected. Coughing up a mouthful of blood, he looked around to see thick metal bars. He turned as fast as his injured body would allow him and saw the same thing on all sides. What the hell? Gregory Valentine, leader of Liberation, was in a cage.

The rest of the room was only dimly lit, and from what he could see, it was featureless other than a window at the top of one wall and a thick door against another. Something went wrong, where am I? He struggled to get his thoughts together, darkness beginning to close in around the edges of his vision. Then the door opened, and he forced himself to focus. A large, well-muscled man entered the room with his spear leveled, and behind him strode a man in elegant red robes. “Well, this isn’t what I expected. You’re in quite a state, Gregory.” Even though the man had aged since Gregory had last seen him, there was no mistaking the voice of Victor DeRosa. “Let’s have a chat, shall we?” Valentine wanted to respond, but he couldn’t hang on any longer. The last thing he felt before losing consciousness were tendrils of mana wrapping around his body.

Chapter 83

Kyle’s heartbeat quickened as he looked at the prompt. His center was brimming with energy, and he took a moment to consider the magnitude of the words before him. As far as he knew, he was the first person to achieve this status since the time of the Originators. All the conversations about D Grade made it seem nearly mythical—a level of power beyond the grasp of any Awakened in the peaceful world the Central Authority cultivated. Now, it was at his fingertips. He considered waking Garth but decided against it. Still, he exited meditation without beginning the process. He thought about his grandfather and knew that it would only be right to take the first steps into D Grade under the stars they’d so often watched together. “C.H.A.D.D., keep an eye on Garth for me. I won’t go far and will be back soon.”

[WILL DO, DR. MAYHEW.]

Leaving the recess in the stone, Kyle wandered until he found a suitable spot. There was a small clearing less than a kilometer away, with the trees framing a perfect view of the night sky. There was less ash in the atmosphere now, and it was a cloudless night. A smile tugged at his mouth as he looked up into it. This is for you, Grandpa. Entering mediation, Kyle focused his intent on the prompt.

Instantly, his perspective changed. His body felt distant, and before him, he saw three illuminated gray symbols, each set in the middle of a large circle. They immediately reminded Kyle of a skill selection, but instead of smaller spheres containing different expressions of a skill, each gave him the impression of a tightly closed door. As he focused, he could almost make out an endless field of other symbols behind them, though none were illuminated. This is all that could have been, Kyle realized, his breath nearly catching. Not much was written about the actual mechanics of the shift into D Grade, and the realization was profound. Each door is a path I could have walked down. Kyle couldn’t help but stare in wonder for a moment, considering the different ways his life could have diverged. With a tinge of sadness, he finally tore his attention away. There wasn’t much to be gained from living for paths that were closed to him now. Instead, with great anticipation, he refocused on the three symbols before him. The first contained a large diamond shape with thick lines, within which were a series of smaller “V” shaped symbols. The second was a dark circle in the center of the larger one, with four different symbols forming a rough “X” shape across it. One of the arms of the “X” looked vaguely like flames, another like ice, the third like stone, while the fourth looked like a bolt of lightning. The final symbol was the strangest to Kyle, seeming to be in a state of constant flux. It reminded him of a flowing river or gently blowing wind.

Anticipation continuing to build, he focused on the first symbol most intently.

D GRADE CLASS EVOLUTION—PATH OF THE WARDEN:

VITALITY—3

ENDURANCE—3

STRENGTH—3

DEXTERITY—3

WILLPOWER—5

INTELLIGENCE—5

PERCEPTION—3

FREE ATTRIBUTES—10

Along with the words, Kyle was given an impression of the change in attributes he would see per level if he chose this class change. It was a massive difference from his Healer class, bringing seven times the raw attributes with each level. Ordinarily, that would have been overwhelming information all on its own, though it felt like a footnote compared to the images that began to play out before his eyes. He saw himself, wearing a white robe over thick armor. He carried a broadsword similar to the one he’d seen Garth use, and his body seemed to radiate mana. He was standing watch over a group of injured civilians, his eyes staring out into the darkness, almost daring whatever lurked there to come for his charges. This was a path of protection, a path of stewardship. He would gain power to protect the people he chose. Kyle felt a strong indication that in addition to more healing skills, this was a class selection that would also offer him combat-oriented abilities.

However, this wasn’t a power without costs. Kyle could tell that if he chose to begin on this path, his progression would be tied to the people he chose to protect. Failing in his duty would stunt his development, and choosing to walk away from people in need would stall it altogether. It was a worthy endeavor, but one that came with its own challenges. These truths firmly in mind, he looked at the next option.

D GRADE CLASS EVOLUTION—PATH OF THE SURVIVALIST:

VITALITY—5

ENDURANCE—6

STRENGTH—0

DEXTERITY—3

WILLPOWER—5

INTELLIGENCE—3

PERCEPTION—3

FREE ATTRIBUTES—10

Before even getting a glimpse of what this path had in store, the attributes alone painted a picture that this wasn’t going to be focused on combat applications. The significant boosts to both Vitality and Endurance were impressive, especially when he considered the improvement offered by his Enhanced Carapace. Focusing more intently on the symbol, he once again saw an iteration of himself. This time, he was simply sitting with his legs crossed in the middle of an open field. The dry grass caught fire, and he sat unbothered.

The scene shifted, with the vision of himself sitting unmoved as wind howled and rain pelted him, concluding with him in the exact same position, this time in the middle of a blizzard. The implication of this selection was clear—he would face adversity, hardship, and endure. It felt like it was simpler in many ways than the Path of the Warden, which focused only on his ability to survive. He had no doubt the skills he gained in this class would branch from simple healing to offer utility and a variety of flexible means to deal with challenges as they came up. As before, he also understood the cost of making this choice. To progress down the Path of the Survivalist, he would be put in circumstances that would push him to his limits and beyond. Comfort would lead to stagnation. That in mind, he looked at the final option before him.

D GRADE CLASS EVOLUTION—PATH OF THE NOMAD:

VITALITY—3

ENDURANCE—5

STRENGTH—0

DEXTERITY—5

WILLPOWER—3

INTELLIGENCE—3

PERCEPTION—6

FREE ATTRIBUTES—10

The last of the options available to him felt, in many ways, the most unique. The distribution of the attribute points felt neither geared toward combat nor protection, with an emphasis on Perception and Dexterity. Looking at the vision of this class, he saw himself in light clothing with an oversized pack, traveling through a variety of breathtaking environments. Mountain peaks to lush jungles, he navigated them all as he explored the world around him. Kyle understood now why this felt so unique—compared to either the Warden or Survivalist, choosing the Nomad class would likely not offer more options related to healing, instead focusing on mobility and exploration.

That was also the cost—his path would be tied to exploration and discovery, grinding to a stop if he ever found a place he truly wanted to settle down. It would also be the widest departure from where he started as a Healer, opening as many new doors as it closed. This brought Kyle’s thoughts back to the three choices before him. None of them felt like a direct progression from the Healer class he’d taken, but given the challenges he’d overcome since the cataclysm, it made sense. Each was in some way an expression of the growth he’d experienced, and now he had to decide which path he would tread.

While each had their merits, Kyle was surprised at how easy the decision wound up being. His grandfather’s last words echoing in his head, he selected the Path of the Survivalist. Whatever comes ahead, I’m going to rise to meet it. When he thought about everything he’d been through since his grandfather’s passing, Clark’s words were consistently his true north. Kyle couldn’t help but feel that this was the path he resonated with the most. He felt a surge of energy as the other two symbols lost their luster, fading into the background. The Path of the Survivalist began to glow brightly, and the door in his mind opened. Inside, he saw four orbs. The first three were familiar, with indistinct gray representing a new skill to choose. The fourth was a glowing orange, and it was where Kyle focused his attention first.

SKILL UPGRADE: D GRADE

As he continued to observe the orb, he saw thin tendrils of energy connecting it to each of the skills he’d learned through the levels as an E Grade. He instinctively felt that he could select any of the skills and choose an upgrade, but decided to hold off on that decision for now. After all, he’d have a much better idea of what he needed after choosing his first normal D Grade skill. Just as he was about to focus on the gray orbs, however, something shifted. Crimson energy began to flow alongside the pale blue, and before he could do anything else, a different prompt appeared before his eyes.

CONDITIONS MET: ARTHRO-HUMAN CHIMERA EVOLUTION BEGINNING NOW

Chapter 84

While a lot was unknown about D Grade, the evolution process was generally well understood. A person would select their class, and that was it. The D Grade human would gain additional attribute points per level, but there was never anything written about a specific evolution selection that needed to get done. On the other hand, I’m not exactly a human anymore. The usual bitterness entered his mind, and he did his best to quash it. This was still an exciting time, and he wasn’t going to let his other circumstances put a damper on it.

The red energy continued to condense, forming the image of a deep crimson gem. Other motes of light began to form surrounding the gem, combining with one another until only six remained. These held a similar ephemeral quality that he experienced with his class evolution, though the impression was starkly different. He understood that each of these spheres could merge into the red gem, infusing it with new energy and shaping it. He wasn’t sure how he knew that; he just… did. It was instinctual, making him wonder if awakened creatures out in the world had similar experiences. Putting the thoughts aside for the time being, he focused on the first orb.

D GRADE RACE EVOLUTION—ROYAL ADAPTATION:

VITALITY—3

ENDURANCE—3

STRENGTH—3

DEXTERITY—3

WILLPOWER—10

INTELLIGENCE—7

PERCEPTION—8

FREE ATTRIBUTES—8

What is this? Kyle was entirely blown away by the sheer number of attribute points. The change to D Grade should only have resulted in a total of thirty attribute points, while this was again half as many. Focusing on the words, he got an image of what this adaptation would focus on. He saw himself at the peak of a social hierarchy, sending legions out to do his bidding.

Working, building, fighting—all of it done at his command. As a sovereign, that was how it should be. Kyle shuddered as the images faded. The attribute points were great, but there was no way he was going to select it. First, there was no synergy with his new class. As a Survivalist, his path would be one of overcoming hardship, not sending others to overcome it for him. Beyond that… it just didn’t feel right. Kyle had no illusions of becoming the leader of some organization, nor did he desire to build his own faction from the ground up. The pursuit of those ambitions meant a willingness to sacrifice others that Kyle simply couldn’t get behind. Dismissing it from consideration, he looked at the next option.

D GRADE RACE EVOLUTION—SOLDIER ADAPTATION:

VITALITY—8

ENDURANCE—8

STRENGTH—9

DEXTERITY—5

WILLPOWER—2

INTELLIGENCE—2

PERCEPTION—3

FREE ATTRIBUTES—8

This was much better already. He saw himself growing in physical power, crushing enemies by virtue of might alone. This adaptation was clearly focused on combat, and in synergy with his other attributes, he had to admit it looked good. In conjunction with the Survivalist class, his physical defenses would be boosted to absolutely ridiculous levels. The growth in Strength would more than make up for the lack of its growth from his class, and in many ways, it would leave him in a much more balanced position. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the combat specialization, though even without looking for fights, he’d run into more than his fair share. Filing it away as an option, he looked to the next choice.

D GRADE RACE EVOLUTION—HUNTER ADAPTATION:

VITALITY—3

ENDURANCE—3

STRENGTH—5

DEXTERITY—10

WILLPOWER—4

INTELLIGENCE—4

PERCEPTION—8

FREE ATTRIBUTES—8

The Hunter adaptation felt interesting. The focus here was much more on planning, preparation, and landing decisive blows. He saw himself waiting in the shadows, lashing out and executing his enemies when the time was right. It was better than the Royal adaptation, but a worse fit for Kyle than the Soldier adaptation. If he had selected the Nomad class, this would likely have been an adaptation that would have matched it nicely. As things stood, however, he moved on.

D GRADE RACE EVOLUTION—WORKER ADAPTATION:

VITALITY—6

ENDURANCE—6

STRENGTH—6

DEXTERITY—6

WILLPOWER—6

INTELLIGENCE—6

PERCEPTION—6

FREE ATTRIBUTES—3

This was much more interesting. It took away the bulk of the free points, instead offering a perfect balance across each attribute. He saw himself thriving in simplicity, having the tools he needed to overcome most challenges at the cost of never being able to truly specialize. He thought about his current spread of attribute points and held no illusions that this racial selection would smooth much of them out as he progressed through D Grade. The real question here boiled down to whether he was willing to commit to becoming a jack of all trades at this point. Shelving it alongside the Soldier adaptation, he looked at the next orb.

D GRADE RACE EVOLUTION—PARASITE ADAPTATION:

VITALITY—3

ENDURANCE—5

STRENGTH—2

DEXTERITY—3

WILLPOWER—8

INTELLIGENCE—10

PERCEPTION—6

FREE ATTRIBUTES—8

Another interesting choice, though it was in many ways a foil to the Soldier adaptation. It was focused on the attributes that synergized the best with his current skills, although the name was off-putting to Kyle. The impression this time was odd, focused on adaptation and change. There was a broadness and flexibility that he hadn’t expected, offering a relatively free approach to its driving directive—specialize to thrive. There was a synergy there that felt like it fit his Survivalist class, but he wanted to make sure he reviewed all his choices before making his decision.

D GRADE RACE EVOLUTION—SCAVENGER ADAPTATION:

VITALITY—8

ENDURANCE—8

STRENGTH—3

DEXTERITY—5

WILLPOWER—3

INTELLIGENCE—3

PERCEPTION—7

FREE ATTRIBUTES—8

His initial impression of this last choice was fairly positive. It combined the defensive aspects he liked from the Soldier adaptation without giving the impression of being combat-focused. In fact, it felt like this was an adaptation that would lean heavily into avoiding combat as he reflected on it. He saw himself in a wide variety of circumstances, never sticking out and never being put down. It was a broad path, similar in that way to the Parasite adaptation, if much humbler.

With the Hunter and Royal adaptations not being real options to him, that left Kyle with four to choose from. With only marginally more consideration, he dismissed the Worker adaptation as well. It just wasn’t the right fit, and he didn’t like the lack of flexibility that the limited free attributes offered. That left him with three options, each representing strong synergy with his Survivalist class. Even more, they each offered a different expression of what survival meant to him. It may have been his grandfather’s last command, but it was now Kyle’s path to walk. For the first time, he really felt like he understood the magnitude of what that meant. The decision he made here would have far-reaching implications for the rest of his life, and with seriousness bordering on reverence, he began to methodically break the choice down to its components.

First, he considered the different synergies. Choosing Soldier would give him far and away the strongest physical abilities, while also striking a balance with his much more mentally-focused class. It would offer him the largest benefit in direct confrontations, being able to take and return hits more effectively. His Enhanced Carapace and Exoskeletal Strength would also see tremendous benefit from the attribute points here.

Choosing Parasite would specialize him much further. The low enhancement to Strength coupled with the lack of growth in his class would leave him physically weak, at least relative to other D Grades. This was also the option that would contribute the least to his Vitality and Endurance, which had, to this point, been some of his most valuable attributes, saving his life on multiple occasions. In exchange, this was the decision that would allow him to make the best use of the skills he had so far. The major bonus to Intelligence would make the fine manipulation of mana much easier, coupled with enough Willpower to move truly staggering amounts of energy. Every one of his skills would benefit and grow more potent as he advanced through the grade.

Lastly, choosing Scavenger would give him incredible durability, and the highest bonus to Perception of the options left to him. This would be the least combat-oriented adaptation by far, though in exchange, it offered an incredible amount of utility. With Enhanced Carapace and Auric Perception both benefiting from the attributes, he would also become even more difficult to put down. When he thought about the four monsters he’d been shown in his vision, he knew that he’d need every advantage to survive an encounter with them. The Scavenger would help him do that.

Satisfied that he’d given each option enough attention in a vacuum, he turned his thoughts to the bigger picture. The way he saw it, there were three distinct definitions of survival set before him. Choosing the Soldier adaptation was to choose a path of survival through combat. He would face strong opponents and overcome them. It was direct and simple—and that largely appealed to Kyle. Still, to accept this definition would be turning his back on what he had hoped to be as a Healer.

The Parasite adaptation was survival through, well, adaptation. It was the most flexible approach to survival, caring less for the means and more for the ends. It would force him to use his specialization creatively to adapt to a wide variety of circumstances, which in many ways felt like the continuation of what he’d been doing over these past few months.

The Scavenger adaptation was nearly the opposite, survival through endurance. No matter how the world around him changed, he would hunker down and make it through.

Combat, adaptation, and endurance. Each had a valid lens through which he could view his path, but one felt truer to himself. Dismissing the rest, he selected the Parasite adaptation. The energy held in the orb flowed into the red crystal floating in his mind’s eye, turning and shaping it. The gem gained luster, its facets becoming more well-defined. Kyle felt the brush of an ancient mind, but only for a moment. He was left with a faint impression of approval before it faded, and he was returned to his center. He still had skill selections and upgrades, but something else had to take precedence. There were a lot of free attributes waiting to be allocated, and he didn’t want to keep them waiting.

KYLE MAYHEW. ARTHRO-HUMAN CHIMERA (PARASITE), SURVIVALIST. LEVEL 1 (D)

ADAPTIVE ANATOMY—3/?—ENHANCED CARAPACE, AURIC PERCEPTION, EXOSKELETAL STRENGTH

VITALITY: 309

ENDURANCE: 312

STRENGTH: 133

DEXTERITY: 218

WILLPOWER: 250

INTELLIGENCE: 313

PERCEPTION: 308

FREE ATTRIBUTES: 62

In addition to the increases from his class and race selection, the simple entry to D Grade offered him a one-time bonus of thirty points to each attribute, as well as forty free attributes to allocate. With the remaining points from moving to Level 75, that left him with a lot to allocate. The thoughts about his path fresh in his mind, Kyle didn’t think long before allocating them all to Willpower, bringing it closer in line with his highest attributes. He knew it would grow much more quickly, with Willpower and Intelligence offering equal amounts per level. By allocating the way he did, he made his first major investment toward specializing. Satisfied with his choice, he turned his attention back to the skills. One last set of decisions to make.

Chapter 85

Turning his attention back to his skill selection, Kyle decided to start by looking at the new options available to him before upgrading one of his existing skills. As before, he had three options.

CAMOUFLAGE: This skill seemed fairly simple at first glance. It would allow him to better conceal his mana signature while also weaving mana around his body to obscure himself. The impression he got was that it was a far cry from true invisibility and would likely offer little in a combat situation. Instead, it was designed to avoid detection by hostiles that weren’t specifically looking for him. It was interesting, though far from being at the top of Kyle’s wish list as skills went. The next choice felt a little better.

MULTITOOL: This was a skill that also offered quite a bit of interesting utility. He saw that it would greatly expand the mana network connections in his hands, allowing him to harden his mana into different shapes to create on-the-fly tools. Tools that included a bladed edge. Having access to a weapon at the drop of a hat would have proved incredibly valuable in a lot of the situations he had found himself in lately, and generally, there were a wide variety of applications he could think of. Even having access to a scalpel or needle could make a difference and likely lead to better outcomes for the people he treated. On the other hand, he had been working hard to find solutions to his equipment problem for a while. The crafting application from Resonance had already proven incredibly valuable, and he firmly believed that it would only get better as he grew in strength. That in mind, he looked at the final option.

STORM SHELTER: Like the others, this ability was pretty straightforward. It would project a dome of hardened mana over his location, creating a small zone of protection. It didn’t involve any major changes to the way his pathways would work, instead just reinforcing his ability to project mana across his whole body at once. The dome of energy wasn’t subtle, glowing a bright blue. From what Kyle could tell, though, it didn’t matter much if his opponents could see the barrier or not. The intensity of the mana gave the impression that it could easily shrug off physical and mana-based attacks without much effort. It was the skill that offered the most in some ways and the least in others. Nearly being cooked alive by Carlyle made it clear that he had a gap trying to fight against sufficiently skilled long-range fighters. The late Fire Mage had been fairly unique in that he had a powerful movement-boosting ability in addition to his long-range capabilities, but he likely wasn’t the only one. Storm Shelter would shore up that weakness nicely, in addition to being able to protect an area around him to give space for triage if necessary. Outside of those applications, it wouldn’t add much to Kyle’s daily activities. He just hadn’t encountered very many situations where this skill would have significantly changed the outcome.

This left Kyle with a bit of a conundrum. If he was honest with himself, he was a little underwhelmed by the choices he’d been offered. Sure, they each had situations where they’d be valuable, but they seemed significantly more niche compared to some of the skills he’d been offered in E Grade.

Then and again, he supposed that was a big part of the difference—he wasn’t in E Grade anymore. He didn’t really know what to expect as he continued his progression, so he forced himself to take a look with what he hoped were more objective eyes. As he did, he landed on Storm Shelter. While it may not be a game changer in his day-to-day life, Kyle already had means to handle the vast majority of the mundane situations he had run across.

The times he’d truly struggled the most were when he was confronted with challenges beyond the norm. He thought about when C.H.A.D.D. got damaged, when he’d almost been killed by the Infernal, and this most recent engagement against Carlyle and Valentine. Access to Storm Shelter during those encounters would have led to different—better—outcomes.

That decided, he turned his attention to the glowing skill upgrade node. He could choose any of his skills, but this one was much easier. One of his skills saw more use than any other and had saved his life every step of the way in this new world. With a thought, he selected Regeneration. He saw the glowing sphere branch into three different directions. As compared to his normal skill selections, the upgrade choices didn’t offer much in the way of impressions, only giving an understanding of the change. He focused on the first.

REGENERATIVE AURA: This would allow him to help others near him passively recover when the skill was active. It would cost a lot more mana to activate as a result, which would reduce the effectiveness for the ways Kyle used the skill. Already dismissing this as an option, he looked at the next branching path.

SURGING REGENERATION: This upgrade would change the nature of the skill, offering a big wave of healing all at once through his body that would persist for a short time. It would provide more healing early and, in many ways, felt to be the most natural next step for the skill. His breath caught, however, when he saw the name of the final choice.

ADAPTIVE REGENERATION: The name itself was intriguing to him, as it felt much more connected to his Arthro-Human Chimera race. The upgrade itself felt different than anything he’d seen from the other two as well, feeling an order of magnitude more complex. He felt that the more the skill healed certain types of damage, that it would make subtle changes to try and offer enhancements against similar damage in the future, while also healing that type of damage more effectively the more he used it. As upgrades went, he got the impression it would not offer any meaningful difference in the quality of the healing at this time.

However, the longer he stayed true to the path of the Survivalist, the more powerful this skill would become. And when he thought about the continual damage he took with Haste active, the decision was clear. He selected Adaptive Regeneration, and with that, exited meditation.

Kyle made his way back to where C.H.A.D.D. and Garth were resting. He knew he should get some sleep, but he was still riding the excitement from his D Grade evolution. Kyle felt amazing. His body felt lighter, and every movement as he traveled was smoother, more natural. His eyes easily pierced through the darkness of the midnight gloom, and the uneven ground beneath him may as well have been flat pavement for the ease with which he moved. Even his depleted mana reserves were replenishing at an alarming rate, far faster than he’d ever experienced before.

The mana in the atmosphere around him seemed to be flowing into him like water down a drain, and he was honestly concerned for a moment that he might have a negative effect on C.H.A.D.D. and Garth as a result. He remembered the sheer power that his grandfather exuded in the scans the little drone had taken and calmed himself with a breath. If Grandpa didn’t cause problems being around me back then, then I won’t cause problems for them. Hopefully. The reality was that Kyle really had no way of knowing; D Grades were not a daily subject of study, and he was certain he wasn’t a standard example in any case.

Coming to the entrance of the small recess, he was greeted by his longtime travel companion. [CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR EVOLUTION, DR. MAYHEW. YOU ARE LIKELY NOW THE MOST POWERFUL PERSON ON THE PLANET.]

“Thanks, C.H.A.D.D. Any changes with Garth’s condition? While I’m at it, how long was I away?” He had lost track of time during his meditation and hoped that it hadn’t been too long.

[MR. BOLTSBURY IS IN A STABLE CONDITION, THOUGH THERE IS STILL A SIGNIFICANT AMOUNT OF WORK TO BE DONE TO PREVENT LONG-TERM COMPLICATIONS. AS FOR TIMING, YOU WERE GONE FOR ROUGHLY AN HOUR, DR. MAYHEW.]

An hour wasn’t bad, though it was hard for him to believe his evolution had taken place in such a short period of time. He was ready to get back to work on Garth, but before he did, he had a request.

“C.H.A.D.D., can you run the same kind of scan on me that you did for Clark Mayhew? I want to have them both to compare.”

[CERTAINLY, DR. MAYHEW.]

Kyle stood still for a few moments while the drone did its work, then turned to Garth. His passive mana recovery had done wonders, even if he knew that his body could still contain significantly more. He estimated that he had recovered nearly half of what used to be his maximum capacity, which was more than enough to get to work. Resting his hand on Garth, he activated Heal. Kyle instantly felt a difference, manipulating the rejuvenating mana with more ease than ever before.

C.H.A.D.D. guided him, and as he worked, he noticed that in addition to the improved control, there was also significantly improved efficiency. He was healing significantly more damage with less mana, which only got him more excited. Will all of my other skills have similar improvements? Although Kyle was eager to test them, he suppressed some of the excitement as he refocused on the treatment.

Even with his evolution, it took two days of treatment before Garth was able to get up and moving again. Garth stood and stretched, examining the scar where Valentine had blown a hole through his torso. “D Grade healing is no joke. I didn’t think I’d be standing again so soon. Thanks, Kyle.”

[I WOULD LIKE THE RECORD TO INDICATE THAT YOU WOULDN’T BE STANDING AT ALL IF IT WASN’T FOR PROPER GUIDANCE AND SCANNING, MR. BOLTSBURY.]

“Then it sounds like thanks are in order for you too, C.H.A.D.D.” His voice got serious as he turned to Kyle. “So what exactly are we going to do from here?”

Kyle’s eyebrows raised as he looked at the older soldier. “This was your idea, Garth. How the hell should I know?”

“In case you didn’t notice, I wasn’t exactly planning on walking away afterward. Besides, you’re the D Grade. You should be the one giving the orders here.”

Not for the first time since evolving, Kyle considered that. He doubted that any group would knowingly try to fight against him if they knew his level. They could likely stroll up to Nierburg, and if any of their drones were able to scan him, they would probably cease hostilities, at least openly. Still, Kyle didn’t entirely know what he wanted to do. Making the wrong decision could have disastrous consequences, and he wanted to give it the consideration it deserved. “Let’s head back to my base, in Albaum. We can better evaluate our options, and from there we can—“ BOOM!

An explosion cut Kyle off mid-sentence, and as he turned, he saw a rising cloud of dust coming from the direction of Duilleag. He looked at Garth, who wore a similarly confused expression on his face. “Or we could go see what’s going on there.”

Chapter 86

“You’re not coming with us.” Kyle’s tone offered no room to negotiate. “You nearly died, and you still need rest. You’re staying here.”

“I won’t get in your way. Besides, if there are civilians in danger, you’ll need all the help I can offer.”

“You’re one of the civilians who could be in danger, Garth. You don’t even have a weapon anymore.”

“Don’t insult me. You know I’ve never been much for sitting around and waiting, and I have every intention of following you. So stop arguing and let’s go see what happened.”

Short of physically restraining him, there was really nothing Kyle could do if he refused the medical advice. With a sigh and a shrug of his shoulders, he turned back toward the rising cloud of dust. “If you waste all the hard work I’ve done on you the last few days, I’ll bring you back just to kill you myself.” Garth grinned as he nodded. “You’ve got a deal. Come on!” With that, the older soldier started toward Duilleag.

The sounds of a conflict met their ears as they approached, and before Kyle could ask, C.H.A.D.D. piped up. [THERE APPEARS TO BE COMBAT BETWEEN THE UNAWAKENED IN THE CITY AND TWO UNIDENTIFIED LIFE FORMS.]

“What do you mean, unidentified?”

[I MEAN THAT I CANNOT IDENTIFY THEM, DR. MAYHEW.]

“Not the time to be sassy, C.H.A.D.D. Are they beetles? Some other type of mutated animal?”

[I AM UNSURE, DR. MAYHEW. SCANS ARE INCONCLUSIVE, THOUGH THEY DO NOT MATCH THE AMBIENT MANA PATTERNS PRESENT IN THE MUTATED CREATURES WE’VE ENCOUNTERED THUS FAR.]

“Any way we can get more information?”

[IF YOU WOULD BE KIND ENOUGH TO TURN AROUND, MY SENSORS WOULDN’T BE AS OBSTRUCTED.]

“I’m not running into an active combat environment backward, C.H.A.D.D.”

[THEN YOU’LL NEED TO GET CLOSER, DR. MAYHEW.]

Kyle turned at the sound of Garth’s bark of laughter and shot him a stern glare. “If you don’t shut it, I’m going to make you carry the pack.” That got the old soldier to make at least a bit of an effort to conceal his mirth, and they finished closing the distance to Duilleag. The settlement was in an uproar, with shouted orders being drowned out by the bursts of gunfire. C.H.A.D.D. confirmed there weren’t any soldiers covering this end of the city, with the remnants of Liberation rushing toward the south. Without any attempt at stealth, Kyle burst past the perimeter, Garth falling behind but still following.

He sprinted past the side of Liberation’s makeshift headquarters and turned toward the open central plaza, just in time to see a young soldier come flying from that direction, smashing hard against the wall of the compound. The man was dead on impact, but Kyle nevertheless examined the body. There was a symbol burned into the combat fatigues, still glowing with heat. It looked almost like the footprint of a frog but blown up to the size of a human hand. Looking around, he saw other bodies with similar smoldering marks.

Kyle kept approaching the far end of the city when suddenly there was a massive blast that shook the ground. Soldiers were scattered, blown off their feet. As the dust settled, Kyle had a clear view of the life forms C.H.A.D.D. identified. One was a thin humanoid creature standing just shy of two meters tall. It was completely hairless, with gray skin and large, black eyes with glowing white dots in the middle. It wore flowing orange and red robes and didn’t seem to be carrying any weapons. Its stance was strange, its four-fingered hands outstretched in front of it as multicolored flames danced around them.

There was no doubt that they were the origin of the seared symbols on the bodies of the dead soldiers. The strange creature had an approximation of a smile on its narrow face, showing alabaster teeth that looked oddly human. It said something to the creature next to it, which stood in stark contrast. It was easily three meters tall and had to weigh over a ton. Its legs bent backward, and it wore what looked like heavy, slate-gray plate armor. It held in one arm a massive tower shield, and the other held a spear as tall as it was, with a wicked blade at the tip. Kyle’s eyes were mostly drawn to the creature’s exposed head. It… looked like a pig. It had a long pink snout, floppy ears, and beady eyes. Small tusks protruded from its bottom jaw, and if it wasn’t for the armor and weapons, he’d have sworn it was just a really big pig. Well, there was one other thing.

[DR. MAYHEW, I BELIEVE THAT THESE ARE⁠—]

“Yeah, C.H.A.D.D. I feel it too.” Both of the creatures in front of him were clearly D Grade, his Auric Perception confirming the sheer amount of mana both were pulling in from the atmosphere around them. They clearly saw him and stopped to talk to one another. Despite their clear hostility toward the Liberation soldiers, they weren’t currently showing any aggression. Maybe he could—BANG!

Kyle looked in near-disbelief at the soldier on the ground, not ten meters away, who had pulled out his sidearm and fired at the two strangers. He emptied his clip, and Kyle watched the large pig-like creature pour mana into its shield. Even though the soldier was aiming for the gray-skinned invader, Kyle clearly saw sparks arc off the shield for every shot after the first. For its part, the gray skinned creature seemed to smile even wider as it blurred into motion, kicking the soldier in the side and sending him flying over the horizon.

[DR. MAYHEW, DO YOU REMEMBER HOW I SAID YOU WERE LIKELY THE STRONGEST PERSON ON THE PLANET? I WAS INCORRECT.]

The gray-skinned alien turned toward him, the wide smile on its face. It said something, but Kyle wasn’t able to understand it. He frantically thought what to do and raised his hands with his palms facing outward, hoping the sign of surrender was universal. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be as the alien blurred toward him, flaming palm hurtling toward his chest. It was fast, and had Kyle encountered it just a week earlier, he would have been sent flying. As it was, he had some tricks up his sleeve.

The moment he saw the creature move, Kyle activated Haste. The effects of the skill were greatly magnified and gave him the edge he needed to dodge. To his surprise, the creature’s other hand followed almost immediately afterward, forcing Kyle to go on the defensive. He dodged expertly, though the heat from the near-misses was still uncomfortable. The alien’s smile widened with every evaded attack, and it was picking up the pace. Kyle wasn’t sure what to do. If he stopped trying to dodge, he’d get hit, and if he didn’t, this crazy monster would only keep escalating. That was the moment that Garth showed up.

Kyle hadn’t seen him turn the corner past the headquarters, and the man held a standard steel blade above his head in both hands, clearly having taken it from one of the Liberation soldiers. Kyle knew what he was going to do before it happened, and his heart sank. Garth released his Air Blade toward the gray-skinned fighter, who easily avoided it, charging straight for Garth. Like the bullets before, the condensed blade of mana was drawn to the large pig-like creature’s shield, which only took a shallow scratch from Garth’s strongest ability.

The older man’s eyes widened as the gray alien creature covered the distance in a moment, hand raised to smash Garth into the dirt. As fast as it was, however, Kyle was faster. He appeared next to Garth just a moment before the creature did and activated Storm Shelter. A thick barrier of mana appeared in a dome around them, and an echoing boom resounded as it met the attack. The barrier didn’t show a single sign of damage. “What the hell is going on here?” Garth asked, eyes wide.

“It got dangerous. And it’s going to get more so when the barrier drops. They’re both stronger than I am, Garth.” To his credit, the older man took the news as well as could be expected. His face paled a bit at the thought, and he looked forward in silence. Kyle watched as the gray creature observed his barrier, then called over the large pig-like creature. It made its way over and pulled out a small device. Slowly, deliberately, it set the device on the ground before backing away, the gray-skinned alien backing away with it. They seemed to look at him expectantly, and Kyle decided to take a gamble. He lowered the barrier, reached out, and touched the device.

As he touched it, he immediately felt it trying to draw in some of his mana. He allowed it to do so, not taking his eyes off the creatures in front of him. Suddenly, the device beeped, and mana flowed back into him. [CONNECTION ESTABLISHED. TRANSLATION ENABLED. BE WARNED—THIS DEVICE IS THE PROPERTY OF CORTHIAN MINING INCORPORATED. THE USER WILL BE HELD LIABLE FOR ANY DESTRUCTION OR TAMPERING WITH COMPANY PROPERTY.] With that, the device went silent, though it was still glowing. The pig-like creature walked up, stopping about ten meters away. “Can you understand me now?” it asked, voice surprisingly high-pitched for a creature its size. It still wasn’t speaking any language Kyle knew, but he felt the mana within him stir, and the meaning behind the words was clear.

“I can, I hope you can understand me too. My name is Kyle Mayhew, and I don’t want to fight you.”

The pig squealed in laughter before responding, “We don’t want to fight either.” It gestured toward the bodies around them. “These people attacked us on sight—not entirely unexpected, but it warranted a response. You can call me Duroc. This one over here is Skierepallix, but you can call him Skippy.” The pig—Duroc—gestured over toward where the gray-skinned alien stood, still smiling.

“It’s nice to meet you, Duroc, Skippy. This is a lot to take in… Why are you here? For that matter, where did you come from?”

“I’ll leave the details for the foreman, he’ll know best. Skippy and I are here on a third-party security detail; we just help with things like this occasionally.”

“If I see another performance like this, I won’t be requesting your help at all anymore.” A new voice rang out, this one deep and commanding. Duroc straightened upon hearing it, though Skippy seemed entirely unbothered. The man approaching was in what Kyle could only describe as a dark-gray astronaut suit, though without the helmet. He appeared to be human, and unless Kyle missed his guess, the stranger was also D Grade. “On behalf of Corthian Mining, you have my apologies for this… messy turn of events. I recognize that we don’t know each other and that you may not be the person who needs to hear this information. Still, it is my hope that I can share it with you and that you will assist us in getting it into the right hands.”

Kyle nodded slowly, his head spinning. This was a lot to take in. For now, he would just do his best. “I’ll do what I can. My name is Kyle Mayhew.”

“A pleasure, Kyle. I’m Chester Drake, foreman of this expedition from Corthian Mining. You may call me Chester. I’m going to be direct with you, Kyle. We were sent here to evaluate the condition of your planet after the Riftwyrm attack and to report back with an action plan.” Chester’s demeanor went from serious to somber as he met Kyle’s eyes. “Your planet is dying, and if we don’t begin organizing for an evacuation, everybody left will die along with it.”

Oath of the Survivor continues in Book Two!

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