With a final flash of light, Steven and the others appeared in the PAC lobby.

  He took a second to make sure everyone was present and unharmed. They were, in fact, present and unharmed. He sighed and then sprawled out on the floor.

  “How much longer is this thing gonna last?“

  Del paused, her eyes flicking over empty air. “Several more hours unless everybody gets eliminated or teams up.”

  If the other events were even half as dangerous as the ones they’d been handed, a decent chunk of people had to be eliminated by now.

  Steven groaned and stretched. His body and mind were sore. Leveling certainly helped, and the new flood of experience he’d gotten from that last Event washed away much of his physical exhaustion, but he was close to spent mentally. He could only push himself to his limits so many times before his mind ran out of juice.

  However, the feeling that he was close to leveling again did spur him to slowly sit up. “I say we don’t automatically take the next Event we run across. I want something relaxed. I saw people doing non-lethal events when we were running to help Vince. Let’s find one of those.” He got a chorus of agreement from everyone.

  “Our Event wasn’t quite as lethal as yours sounds,“ Micheal said. “But it was still stressful.“

  Steven glanced at them. “What was your Event?”

  “We had to finish a play.“

  Steven narrowed his eyes. “You had to finish a play? We had killer shadow musicians in the middle of a hurricane of metal chairs. I almost got my head caved in by a trombone!”

  Micheal laughed. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just trombones?” He laughed again. “Our performance was imitating shadows of ourselves. And while the shadows didn’t mind stabbing each other through the sides or uppercutting each other across the room, we didn’t exactly want to follow that one-to-one. Still, I’ll take that over your Event.“

  Vern looked more dejected than usual. “The System put me in a tree costume. I shouldn’t complain since my life wasn’t in danger, but everyone else got to look cool.“

  Micheal waggled his hand. “I looked like a fop.”

  “But a well-dressed one.“

  Del stretched, grimacing halfway through before rubbing her shoulder. “We take five, then go hunt for a non-murderous event?“

  Everyone nodded, and Steven let himself close his eyes.

  “What am I your fucking Alarm Clock?“

  “You cheeky prick.”

  ~<>~<>~

  “Fire! There’s a fire! It’s in your skin! Tear it off!”

  Steven surged up, a shield manifesting in motion beneath his shoulders as he primed another to meet the threat. He stopped as his momentum finished carrying him to his feet. The others were staring at him like he was crazy.

  He blinked and then sighed.

  Micheal cocked his head. “But it did wake you.“

  “Yeah, I provide clocks. It would be a bit silly if you couldn’t set an alarm with them. But it sets a bad precedent if you ask me to do it directly instead of just using your interface. Makes me look like a chump.”

  Steven rubbed his face before turning to the others and dismissing the shield. He’d started leaning against it without noticing.

  “Anyone find an event that looked good?“

  Carla tapped the air before gesturing over her shoulder. “There’s one about to start in Fifth Avenue; I figure we can check it out and then leave if we don’t like the look of it.“

  After a quick round of agreements, they strode out of the PAC.

  Steven was still exhausted, the rapidly fading light of a winter afternoon not helping.

  The air bit in his skin as the dome shimmered and twisted overhead. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with that freezing air before shaking himself and focusing. This wasn’t over yet.

  But despite his resolve, it proved unnecessary. They strolled the several blocks to the Fifth Avenue mall unmolested. Most people seemed locked up in events or didn’t have time to harass random strangers.

  The Fifth Avenue Mall was a large building stretching several city blocks. It was no megamall, but it wasn’t small either. It even had a sky bridge, which was notable for anchorage.

  A JCPenney on the mall’s ground floor was as good an entrance as any.

  The instant they stepped through the door, a prompt filled their vision.

  Event! target practice.

  “Targets have been scattered throughout the Fifth Avenue mall! They can be anywhere in the building, though none will spawn outside it. Break the targets to complete the Event. Get at least 70% of them to get a passing grade; rewards will scale higher the closer you get to 100%. Note! Friendly Event. There will be no fighting during this Event. This is just you and the targets. Any attempt to attack another participant in the Event will have you ejected from the mall. You have 45 minutes. Have fun!”

  Steven blinked. Well, that’s perfect, almost suspiciously so. Was the System throwing them a bone?

  Micheal glanced around. “I’m assuming everyone’s all right with this choice; it sounds fantastic.“

  Carla frowned. “A 45-minute window is a big time commitment. That’s 45 minutes, and we can’t chase other prizes unless we decide to cut our losses halfway.“

  Margie hummed. “It’s also 45 minutes to catch our breath while still progressing. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m fucking tired. A 45-minute scavenger hunt sounds terrific compared to what we just went through.“

  Vern nodded. “I vote yes."

  Carla spun a slightly too wide smile on her face. “If our leader insists, then I’ll bow to his judgment.“

  Vern scowled as Carla continued to grin.

  With no one else speaking up, Micheal pulled slightly ahead of the group and began to talk, his words bubbling with excitement.

  “We have 45 minutes and a guarantee of peace. With that in mind, we should split into teams to try and cover as much ground as possible. Then, we can meet up back here a few minutes before the Event ends or another part of the mall if we’re all closer to it.“

  Vanessa nodded, a smile overtaking her features. “I like the idea; it feels nice to think about how to solve a System problem without violence involved. What teams are you thinking?“

  As Micheal began to speak, Vince pulled back an arrow and loosed it towards the ceiling.

  Steven whipped his head up to follow it just in time to see a bright white and red target shatter. He heard a ding, and a percentage meter ticked up in the corner of his vision. A second later it kicked up again to 2%.

  Carla hummed. “Someone else is smashing them, which is a relief since I was not looking forward to scanning the entire mall ourselves.“

  Micheal nodded and then launched back into his plan, excitedly waving his hands. “We should have spotters group up with our ranged friends. Steven and I can be a team; if we’re feeling a time crunch, he can always make us faster with our carriage method, and I doubt there will be any target he can’t catch with a shield.”

  Micheal pointed at Margie and Markus. "The two of you can move quickly, and you can get some hard-to-reach one's between Markus’s sap and the dog’s mobility. Vince is an obvious target shooter, and Del can enhance any group she’s in. Any other ideas?"

  After a quick planning session, they split off, Carla and Vern going with Vince, Del with Margie and Markus, and Vanessa joining Steven and Micheal.

  Margie’s team would have some trouble with higher-up targets but could cover a lot of ground.

  They stayed as a single group as they moved through the store, up the escalators to the second floor.

  Vince and Steven smashed a few targets each, making a game of it as they walked.

  They walked out into the mall proper on the second floor, the massive hallway greeting them.

  Shops lined each floor, illuminated by fluorescents and the skylights overhead.

  “Alright, let’s go explore.” Micheal grinned and started off. There, they split, with one team going to each floor.

  As Steven, Micheal, and Vanessa casually strolled through the mall, tossing out shields as targets presented themselves, he found himself with space to breathe.

  All of his practice with his shields made snagging targets a breeze. Even if they were moving or spinning, he barely had to think.

  Micheal didn’t comment on it; he’d seen everything Steven could do since day one, but Vanessa hadn’t. “You’ve got quite the Skill there—offense, defense, and range.”

  Steven nodded as a target swooped low, moving at a sprint. A shield tore into it a heartbeat later. “I’m pretty happy with it. I picked it on day one.“

  She whistled. “My own starter Skill wasn’t the best. It was just a general strength increase. And not a particularly impressive one at first."

  Micheal shrugged. “You made it so far, though.“

  She nodded. “I did, though a fair bit of luck was involved at first.“

  Micheal laughed, shooting Steven a wry look. “Same here. In fact, Steven and Margie saved my ass. It was pure luck that they heard the high-pitched screaming and decided to run towards it instead of away.“

  Steven gave Micheal a half hug. “I could never turn away from a damsel in need.”

  Micheal chuckled before elbowing him away. “Jackass.”

  Vanessa pointed up and to the right with her hammer and Steven sent a shield flying. Another target vanished, and another percent ticked up.

  “On the line of Skills,” Micheal started. “What do you think level 15 is going to be like?“

  Vanessa cocked her head at him. “What do you mean?”

  Micheal scratched his chin before pointing left into a nearby shop. One shield later, another target was down.

  “Level 10 brought… I don’t know more? It felt general in certain ways; everybody got better at what they were already doing and, in some cases, a lot better. We also saw more out there skills, which could be because of more people getting higher rarities. But the System has hyped up how big this stuff can get.”

  He frowned before pointing down at a target below the railing. “It’s made some pretty sweeping statements that make me feel like the peak of all this shit is nowhere near where we’re at. Did you guys fight a Beast Of The North?“

  Vanessa shook her head. “I know you lot did unless there’s two Old Timer Inc. in town.“

  Micheal nodded, his expression turning grim. “We fought one. We killed Bullwinkle..it was a moose, had to be 10 feet tall at least, and could summon a storm of ice that swirled around him.”

  “Besides being ridiculously strong and having a few other ice skills. He had this… beam. It took him a while to charge up, but when he did, it was absurd. Technically, it wasn’t as much damage as a large bomb going off, but it was so focused. It cut through at least half a mile of trees, and that was a creature that the System rated as a match for level 10 groups. What’s 15 going to bring? Are we going to start having that kind of firepower?"

  Vanessa rolled her shoulder, her eyes settling on her hammer. “I don’t know. That level of destruction sounds like a big jump from what most people have access to right now. But maybe 15 will be that big of a jump, or maybe 20 will. She frowned deeper. “Is it wrong to feel excited about it and scared shitless at the same time?”

  Steven shook his head. “That’s about how I’ve been feeling. On the one hand, it’s ! The fact that I can make these shields still hasn’t lost its wow factor for me. But at the same time, I’ve seen what people can do with these powers. It’s an arms race, and no one knows how fast or how far it will accelerate.”

  Micheal sighed, running a hand through red hair. “Well, on that cheery note, let’s keep hitting targets so the number goes up.”

  ~<>~<>~

  Margie found herself in a philosophical mood. She couldn’t say that was something that struck her often, but the combination of adrenaline and the life-and-death struggle in which she couldn’t actually die brought her to the aforementioned mood.

  And now that they were target hunting instead of running to fight a pirate, she had time to ponder. She pulled up her character sheet, the familiar contents washing over her. She ignored most of it, her eyes settling on her purpose.

  Hound Maiden: Level 13

  Rare

  Scope: none

  Purpose: none

  Her purpose. She didn’t have one. Well, that was a bit melodramatic; she had plenty of purposes; she wanted to keep living for one, and she wanted to make sure the people around her kept on kicking. But in a more general sense, she supposed her Class was correct.

  However, she didn’t know how much the Class’s purpose tied into someone’s goals. What if the Class purpose was something odd and abstract? Was that a reflection of the person, or was it just some twist of fate that had been shoved on them?

  Margie needed to find herself a purpose. The System had been unhelpful and annoying, especially regarding how she was to go about that. But, it was becoming increasingly clear that she needed one. Her Class was strong, that much had always been clear. The amount Buford could do from a single primary Skill was a little terrifying. And Noodle, while not quite a living wrecking ball, still became something dangerous under the power of her Class.

  But that power was static. She wasn’t like Steven. She didn’t pull out sudden boosts or push the limits of what she thought her Class could achieve.

  She buffed her dogs, and if that wasn’t enough, she had to get creative with Hopscotch Hound and Buford’s shroud.

  That wasn’t a bad thing on its own; she was fine with using her head. But if they needed something more from her than she could readily give, she wouldn’t be able to deliver.

  And there was the other issue. She would fall behind.

  Unable to pass through the next Threshold without a purpose. Margie didn’t intend to let herself become a burden that the others needed to protect, but she also had no clue how to go about this.

  She sighed as Del and Markus chatted while Buford and Noodle raced each other to break more targets.

  She’d figure out something. She wasn’t about to quit. She just hoped she was fast enough to step up to the plate when they needed her.

  ~<>~<>~

  As they continued through the 5th Avenue mall, the air filled with an odd mix of the familiar and alien. The familiar part was well the sound of a mall.

  People chatted and murmured as they walked about, and quiet music emanated from stores. That familiarity was undercut by the sound of shattering targets and some truly bizarre Skills.

  Steven saw a group of stuffed animals work together to throw one of their brethren at a target. A small plushie that couldn’t have been taller than six inches locked paws with a larger stuffed bear who spun them around and around until their little legs flapped like a flag in the wind.

  It launched the little guy at a distant target, and his aim was pretty damn good.

  Steven didn’t see whose Class was responsible for the stuffed animals, but their controller had to be somewhere nearby, right?

  They passed another group that seemed to shimmer and shift as they walked, their numbers shifting from five members to nine and then down to two for an instant before returning to five. Steven wasn’t sure about that one, though he suspected it was something like an illusion class.

  The display of Skills was interesting, but it was heartwarming to see people acting like people.

  Every friendly wave, warm smile, or simple hello was a balm to his spirit.

  They passed by a trio of women, each breaking targets with different colored energy balls. The balls matched the auras hanging about them: ruddy red, sickly green, and stained yellow, respectively.

  He doubted asking would get him an answer, and a wrench was taken to his curiosity as a familiar figure rounded the corner. Middle-aged with short black hair dusted through with white and a well-trimmed beard.

  He had a sturdy green workman’s jacket, thick jeans to match, and a pair of heavy brown boots that clicked with each step against the tile.

  He noticed Steven at the same time, and his face spread into the warm grin Steven remembered as his robin’s egg-blue eyes sparkled. “Steven!"

  Steven smiled back. “Clark!“

  As targets broke and Skills flew, Steven greeted the man as if it were any day at the mall.

  Clark pulled him into a hug, giving him a solid thump on the back before separating. “It’s good to see you, Steven!” He gave a cheeky grin, and his eyes sparkled. “Taking down a beast of the north? My nephew was over the moon when I told him I knew some of the people responsible.”

  Steven grinned back. “You’ve been busy yourself, I see people talking about you all over. You’ve helped protect, what seven, eight neighborhoods at this point?”

  Clark smiled. “Something like that. And speaking of helping out neighborhoods,” he turned and motioned behind him. A short, brown-haired woman stepped up. She had a timid air about her, shoulders slightly hunched with her hands clasped around a bag at her waist. She wore a red coat that seemed to pop out like a barrier with an equally puffy green skirt below it. A green beanie topped off her ensemble as she stared at them, seeming to fight the urge to shrink back. “This is Alice,” Clark said. “She joined my group a few weeks ago.”

  The woman gave a small wave but didn’t say anything. She looked uneasy, her eyes scanning about constantly.

  Steven couldn’t fault her for it. Even with the System’s temporary restriction on violence, there was a part of his mind screaming at him to stay alert.

  He waved to Vanessa. “This is Vanessa, and you met Micheal.“ They shook hands before quickly falling into step together.

  Vanessa and Micheal began to chat, trying to rope Alice into the conversation with little success. The woman was quiet as a mouse.

  As they moved, Steven sent three shields out, quickly smashing a group of targets so close together that the sound overlapped.

  Clark let out an impressed whistle. “You’ve gotten faster at that,” he complimented.

  Steven nodded as he dismissed the shields with a thought. “It’s been a minute since the Contest. A lot happened.“

  Clark eyed him. “Honestly, Steven, it hasn’t been long since the Contest, but a lot happened.”

  His expression fell as he looked around. “Pockets of the city are still perfectly normal, at least on the surface. Everyone goes about their day as if nothing has changed. I even know some people still working if they have remote jobs, calling into the office and letting things like deadlines and quarterly reviews take up their thoughts."

  His eyes grew distant, and Steven didn’t think he was seeing the mall anymore. “And only a few blocks over, we’re killing each other in the streets.”

  Steven nodded. “People want normality. They don’t want to interact with…all of this if they don’t have to.”

  Clark nodded. “They want normality, safety. But the city is spiraling. Groups are scrambling for every piece they can get their hands on.” Something dark entered Clark’s expression. “They’re all clawing and biting to come out on top, and they aren’t going to settle until we find the king of the hill.”

  He met Steven’s eyes, and he had to fight a flinch. There was steel in Clark’s gaze. “I don’t intend to let people like the Corners end up on top of the heap. We have the strength to stop them, and we have a responsibility to make sure the city lands in safer hands.”

  Steven shuffled as an uneasy feeling started to creep up his gut. “I…yeah. I don’t know if we can keep people from becoming little rulers altogether, but we can keep the worst from ending up on top.”

  The two of them fell into a thoughtful silence, letting the sounds of the mall and the others’ murmured conversation wash over them.

  Micheal was spouting something about rabbits for some reason, and Vanessa looked torn between laughter and embarrassment.

  After five minutes, Clark spoke up. “Do you think it’s strange how well we’ve held out, all things considered?”

  He glanced at the older man, arching a brow. “What do you mean?”

  “The city’s still hanging onto civility for the most part. Even the majority of the rising factions aren’t outright hostile to each other, though that’s unlikely to stay that way by tomorrow.”

  Steven hesitated before answering. Did he find it strange? Strange that things hadn’t devolved faster, that people still wanted to act like people by and large?

  “No, no, I don’t think it’s odd.” Steven said with a shake of his head. “People aren’t that different from one another, despite how things go down in movies."

  He ran a hand through his hair, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. “Before all this, you know what I never had to hold myself back from? What was never a challenge or struggle for me?” He asked with a snort.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Grabbing a baseball bat with some nails pounded through it, some football pad armor, and running out into the street to beat the shit out of people. That wasn’t an issue. I didn’t have a little rubber band on my wrist that I had to snap to hold back the urge to go Mad Max on everyone’s ass while buying groceries.”

  He snorted. “That hasn’t changed just because I have superpowers, and I think it’s the same for most people.”

  Clark arched a brow. “Groups like the Corners would beg to differ.”

  Steven shook his head. “Do they? They’re assholes, but I don’t think that’s a mark. They were doing normal. People wouldn’t be talking about it like this. We’d shrug and say, ‘That’s just how it is.’ But it’s not. Most of us don’t want to fight. We want a warm bed, a good meal, and a place to rest our heads. We want that, and we want our friends and family to have it.”

  Clark studied him, his eyes sharp, searching. “Thank you for your perspective; it’s pleasantly optimistic.” After a few moments of somber silence, Clark shook his head and clapped his hands. “That’s enough serious topics, we still have targets to catch!” He chuckled, his smile slipping back into place as if it’d never left. “Let’s enjoy this little rest while we have it. We’ve been so busy that we never exchanged contacts from that email…”

  ~<>~<>~

  They exchanged phone numbers and then continued through the mall, smashing targets as they found them.

  He still hadn’t heard Alice speak much, which was probably good for them. The rest of them talked enough to need the balance.

  They discussed lighter topics as they searched. The craziest Scenarios they’d seen or heard of, interesting skills and classes. Their own abilities were left out of that discussion in silent agreement.

  They covered a good chunk of the mall, but as they neared the food court, the Event was almost out of time. He decided to shoot a group text.

  Steven: “We are near the food court. Does everyone want to meet here before the Event ends?”

  Vern: We’re at the opposite end of the mall. We’ll wait here and regroup after.”

  Del: “Margie, me, and the old man will head to the food court.”

  The rest sent a wave of thumbs up.

  Steven glanced at Clark. “Our groups will meet up at the food court.“

  Clark nodded and pulled out his phone. “Sounds like a plan. Our percentage is looking good, and I’m sure you’ll bump a few ticks up while we wait.”

  The Food court stood high above the other shops in the large circular room where the mall ended.

  It stretched a little under a quarter over the lower floors, only a few dozen feet from the skylight overhead. There was a large elevator with a glass door up to it, and they opted for the elevator over the steps.

  The doors closed with a ding, and the scent of rubber and metal filled Steven’s nose.

  The thought of some of their group being separated filled his stomach with nerves, but he forced his shoulders to unclench. Vern, Carla, and Vince would be fine. He still needed to focus on the Event for a few more minutes.

  He forced himself to look around, taking advantage of the elevator’s glass walls and his rising view to take out a few targets.

  Clark whistled. “Glass doesn’t stop you from summoning? So you can make a shield anywhere in sight?"

  That was more detailed of a skill question than they had been leaning towards, so Steven figured he’d match it with his own question. “I’ll trade you an answer for an answer.”

  Clark flashed him a smile, his teeth bright against the gray-speckled black of his beard. “Deal.”

  “Give me an example of one of your Skills.”

  Clark nodded. “Easy enough.”

  Clark would like to share a Skill Description with you!

  Zukertort Opening (modified)

  Your Knight enters a flexible stance that enhances their next Move.

  Attack increase: Moderate

  Defense increase: Moderate

  Move count: 1

  Steven read over the Skill before his eyes flicked to the modified message.

  “His skill description has been modified. Exactly like it says.”

  Steven felt his eye begin to twitch.

  “Ha. Yes, you can modify the things you send to people, but I will always tell the person that it’s modified, and you cannot falsify anything through an official system message like that. You can merely choose not to show all of the information. If I’m telling you something class or skill-related, then it’s true. Unless I don’t think you’re puny, brains are ready to handle the information yet.”

  He felt the System’s attention leave him.

  He took another moment to read over the Skill again. “A chess-themed skill. Do you designate rules for people? Since it says your Knight?

  Clark shrugged and made a zipping motion across his lips. “Who could say.”

  The bastard gave Steven just enough information to stoke the fire of his curiosity, but a deal was a deal. “Yeah, I can summon my shields anywhere I can see within a range limit.”

  That was a bit of a lie by omission. He could summon them anywhere within his range limit. They didn’t need to be in his line of sight, but Clark modified his description to keep some secrets. Steven didn’t feel bad doing the same.

  “It’s remarkable how much more some people can do with basic Classes than others.” Clark pointed out a target, and Steven broke it with an exaggerated wave.

  “I’ve seen several people with a fire mage class. One neighborhood we protected had two of them. An old man with glasses that took up half his face and a boy who couldn’t have been older than 17. The kid stumbled around throwing sloppy fireballs like he was sandbagging during PE.”

  “Meanwhile, that old man made it so we didn’t lose a single person in the defense. He used an Augment that let him place fireballs like sticky bombs. He lined entrances and chokepoints with gas cans and detonated his fireballs from the safety of his home.”

  Clark gave Steven another long, contemplative look. “Both had the same Class, and the young man had his own Augments that could’ve made him very effective. The difference was the user. I’ve seen other people use shields, Steven, but they’ve got nothing on you.” He clapped Steven on the shoulder, his grip warm and comforting.

  Steven flushed, a mixture of pride and embarrassment welling up in him. “I-er thanks.”

  The elevator dinged open, and they stepped out.

  The food court was empty, save for a few hanging targets they made quick work of. Some places still had people working, but most of downtown was cleared out. The System loved to bombard the area with scenarios, so it wasn’t a great place to be if you valued your health.

  It was set up like a horseshoe, with tables, seating in the middle, and shops lining the edge. However, the horseshoe analogy fell apart because the section that would be open on a horseshoe was covered in metal railing.

  Steven walked up to the railing and looked out over the mall. The crisscrossing escalators didn’t have the streams of people he was used to, just a few stragglers on their way to rejoin their groups before the Event ended.

  He glanced up at the light of the dome shimmering through the glass and let out a breath.

  Clark’s phone dinged, and he made a pleased noise as he stopped near a set of tables. “Perfect! Hector and Patricia are on their way. We should be able to see them in a second.”

  Micheal stopped beside Steven, looking out over the railing as a duo rounded a corner a few floors below. A man and a woman, somewhere in their late twenties or early thirties.

  The man was pale as snow with sandy blond hair and wore a heavy red coat. The woman, in contrast, had light brown skin and dark straight hair and wore a nondescript grey jacket.

  The man pulled a knife from his side as a target out of a store. Shadows stretched along the knife and hurled it casually, spearing the target dead center while barely glancing at it.

  “The rest of my group was too spread out, so they’ll meet up with us later.” Clark kept talking, but his words faded to the background as Steven focused on Micheal.

  The man’s hands had tightened on the railing until his knuckles were paler than bone. His shoulders started to tense before the man shifted slightly, forcing his shoulders to relax.

  Steven caught his eye, and their urgency caused his adrenaline to spike. He got ready to begin calling to meet whatever threat Micheal had seen. But Micheal wanted him to play it cool, so with forced casualness, Steven shifted slightly to face his friend, ensuring he could keep everyone in view from the corner of his eye.

  Micheal Vern would like to share his Class with you.

  Micheal Vern would like to share his Class with you.

  Micheal Vern would like to share his Class with you.

  Micheal’s eyes flicked to the approaching figures before he pulled out his phone.

  Steven was already pulling out his phone when it buzzed with a message.

  “Those two coming up were in the Contest. They were torturing a guy to get him to give up his points. They might recognize me, will definitely recognize Markus.”

  Steven’s brain felt like it had just run face-first into a wall. He stood frozen, his mind rebounding off Micheal’s words before making it towards conscious thought.

  Clark clapped a hand on Steven’s shoulder and gave him a friendly grin, ripping his spiraling thoughts back to the present. “You’ll love Hector and Patricia. They’ve been with me since the first Scenario. I got lucky to find good people so early.” Clark’s voice was so warm, so honest.

  .

  Steven smiled and nodded, somehow managing to keep his expression looking natural.

  His mind went into overdrive.

  Micheal was way ahead of Steven. Before he’d even finished thinking it, the redhead doubled over, clutching his stomach with a groan.

  And with that, he ran off to the stairs.

  There was a closer bathroom, but thankfully, Clark wasn’t paying attention save for a slight chuckle.

  Venessa had picked up on something and was giving Steven an odd look. A moment later, both their phones began to buzz with group texts.

  Micheal had told the others.

  Carla: “Like they were fucking a guy up to make him give them all his points? That’s brutal.”

  Micheal: “Yeah, it was horrible! We-”

  Vince: “We should fight them.”

  Vern: “No!”

  Del quickly took control before the chat could devolve further.

  Del: “Micheal, join the three of us, and then you and Markus will join Vern’s group. Margie and I will go to Steven and Venessa to regroup after the Event.”

  They got a series of thumbs up, okays, and a GIF of a sea turtle from Vince. Steven frowned at the turtle before shoving it from his mind.

  The group splitting further made his palms break out into a cold sweat, but at least it would be in two solid teams instead of scattered about.

  The elevator dinged, and Hector and Patricia stepped out.

  Clark waved them over with a smile.

  “Steven, Vanessa, this is Hector and Patricia. I’m sure you’ll get along great."

  Patricia gave a lazy wave while Hector muttered something that could have been a greeting. Clark shot the man with an annoyed look, and Hector threw his hands up. “What! I’m not here to socialize right now, we’re in an Event!”

  Despite being at least six or seven years older than Steven, he sounded almost petulant.

  Clark scowled. “You’re being rude.” Hector’s scowl deepened. “Quit trying to dad me, Clark!”

  The two started to bicker while Patrica stared at her phone.

  A minute later, Margie and Del arrived. They’d opted for the steps and quickly made their way over to Steven and Venessa. They exchanged waves with Clark and his group but didn’t approach them.

  Steven did his best to act casual as the two stood beside him. Seeing them drained some of the tension from his shoulders, but his thoughts drifted toward Micheal and Markus. Worry began to build, and he forced it down.

  They’d be with Vern’s team; hell, they were probably safer than Steven was right now. It would be—

  ~<>~<>~

  Steven wasn’t sure if all the levels and Micheal’s buff were boosting his reaction speed or if a part of him never truly relaxed anymore, but his body reacted before his mind could even process what was happening.

  His Anchor Shield slammed into place with a thump, its aura washing over the group in a steadying wave a heartbeat before the attack landed.

  The comet of orange energy flexed and wobbled as it crashed against the shield, condensing like rubber.

  It seemed to hang frozen for a moment, the orange light reflecting off the shards of glass raining down, mixing with the green of his shield to make them sparkle.

  Steven grunted, dodging back as tendrils tried to slip around his shield. The force of that hit would have obliterated his Hand Shields a dozen times over, but his Anchor held firm.

  His eyes moved from the fading scraps of orange energy to the skylight just as figures began to drop through, sending another shower of ice and glass to rain around them.

  Despite the distance, the figures plummeted through the air, showing no fear at the rapidly approaching ground.

  When they were only a few feet from the tiles, one of the figures, a redheaded woman Steven vaguely recognized, threw her hand out, and a swirling ball of wind blasted out, washing over the group and slowing their fall.

  Steven counted seven, maybe eight figures, as they settled to the ground. Their ages ranged from a man in his late forties to a kid who had to be sixteen or seventeen at the oldest.

  That was all Steven had time to notice before a dark-skinned man in a green jacket threw his hand forward, sending a smaller lance of orange energy hurtling straight toward him.

  He threw up a shield only for the projectile to curve over his shoulder, missing him completely.

  He spun and tossed out a shield, not at the blast of energy, but at Clark. He caught the man in the chest as he pulled another shield into his ankles. Clark was neatly flipped flat as Steven spun back to the charging figures.

  He registered the sound of Clark scrambling back to his feet, and then his focus was taken up by the wall of bodies and Skills rushing him.

  ~<>~<>~

  Margie had enjoyed the brief bit of… Well, normality wasn’t the word, but it was pleasant to have her guard down. To look around her and not consider if she would have to beat the snot out of the folks she passed. So, of course, some hooligans had to burst through the damn ceiling.

  The new group landed, and after a brief pause that seemed to steal everyone’s breath, they rushed forward as one of them hurled another lance of orange energy.

  Margie popped her neck and began to channel hopscotch hound.

  Shields began to fly, and as stray attacks were deflected or stopped outright, Margie looked around for who would try to kill her first.

  The answer was a young woman with bright red hair, and lips pulled back into a grimace. Margie didn’t have time to take in more than that as one of the two spinning balls of wind the woman clutched in her hands detonated, sending her flying towards Margie.

  Margie immediately swapped places with Noodle. The woman’s eyes widened as her spinning kick that should’ve taken Margie’s head off sailed through empty air.

  The girl recovered fast, twisting as she landed, boots squeaking along tile as she shoved her other hand behind her. The remaining wind orb pulsed and grew, and the redhead’s momentum canceled out.

  “Damn that Skill looks fun.”

  The woman gave Margie a strange look. “What? It does. It’s like you can fly but with a higher chance of making yourself throw up in the process.” The woman’s response was to throw herself back into the fight with a yell.

  ~<>~<>~

  Steven saw a woman fly by and vaguely recognized her. She’d been in the Contest. Margie could handle her.

  Vanessa fought with two of the attackers. One was a short, thin woman with heavy-looking bundles of fabric around her wrists. The second was an older man wearing a poncho that seemed to writhe and twist.

  She was holding them off, but she couldn’t gain ground. Steven sent a quick shield at the poncho man to try and trip him before his attention was ripped back to the right as another orange missile rocketed toward Clark.

  Whoever their attackers were, they had a target.

  Steven didn’t have time to process that; all he had time for was a Hand Shield. He called it to the side of the missile, hoping it would be enough to deflect it.

  It wasn’t as strong as the first attack that had broken the skylight, but it still whipped through the air with frightening speed and crashed into the side of his Hand Shield with tremendous force.

  His shield almost shattered, the Skill practically groaning under the strain as the attack bounced to the side.

  It tried to curve, but he’d knocked it too far off course.

  One of Clark’s people had moved to the attacking group’s back line and tied up two with slashes of shadow.

  Steven tossed out shields as he scanned the fight.

  Margie was fine, Clark stayed back, and Del weaved between fights, giving support as needed.

  Steven’s focus settled on a man with a massive green coat near the railing, well away from the brawl. He clutched his hands together and formed another lance of orange energy.

  Steven sent a hand shield at his face. The man jumped back, and a woman rushed to defend him, hurling a stone at Steven that warbled and screeched like fingernails on chalk.

  Steven winced and pulled his Anchor Shield to him.

  The attack detonated with a boom that sent his ears ringing. The attackers didn’t talk, banter, or threaten; they just kept coming. Whoever they were, they wanted Clark gone from the Scenario, and they weren’t beating around the bush about it.

  Looking back, a part of him would regret that. The unthinking, uncritical way he reacted. But the rest of him understood that was always how it would go.

  Even if this group hadn’t put him and his friends in danger with their attack, even if he could have stood by and watched, someone was under attack, and Steven had the power to stop it.

  The world became a blur of color, sound, and violence; through it all, his Class pounded in his ears.

  ~<>~<>~

  Margie was pretty good at handling chaos at this point. She didn’t grasp everything around her as Steven seemed to.

  Even as the thought crossed her mind, a shield smacked a warbling stone from the air, another tripped a man with writhing chains wrapped around one arm, and a third became a stepping stool for Noodle to rebound off of.

  No, she didn’t have his multitasking, but Margie was very good at keeping track of a target.

  So despite the shields, bolts, bodies, and screams flailing around her, Margie saw the redhead blasting towards her.

  The woman had used one of those orange explosions as cover to run around, but Margie had kept her eye on her as Buford kept them safe.

  So, instead of gawking as the woman flew at her from above, she got ready to swap.

  A wind orb rushed down the redhead’s side before stopping at her heel as she spun through the air.

  Margie could put two and two together and switched with Buford before the wind orb burst and propelled a roundhouse kick that would’ve knocked Markus on his ass.

  It swished over Buford, and the hound tensed to pounce as her leg passed through his shroud.

  Margie had a better idea. She gave a sharp whistle, and Buford braced. At the same time, she focused on his shroud, causing it to stick to the woman’s leg.

  The woman didn’t have a clue and immediately blasted her other orb straight down at Buford. The dog staggered and missed a step—a testament to how strong those blasts had to be—and the redhead was blasted straight up into the air.

  Margie figured she had planned to summon more orbs and keep dodging around, but that plan didn’t get to live past a twinkle in her eye as the woman ran out of rope.

  She had a brief instant to look down at the curtain of red light currently wrapped around her leg and then at Margie.

  Buford took a step to the side, and his shroud constricted. The woman rocketed back into the ground and hit like a shack of bricks before vanishing in a flash of blue and purple light.

  “All right, boy, that’s one down; who are we jumping next?”

  ~<>~<>~

  Especially now, going from an event where violence was banned and immediately getting jumped the moment it ended was a juxtaposition that sapped his strength and darkened his mood.

  He dodged a swing aimed at his chest, conjured a hand shield behind his back as he went, rolling over it like an impromptu table, then pulled his anchor shield in the way of a warbling bolt of orange energy.

  The constant struggle had worn his mind away, but his Class .

  He danced through the fight, the pounding of his Class drowning out the beat of his heart until it seemed to take its place.

  He didn’t need to think as he saw attacks forming, his response coming before he processed what was happening.

  It had been too long since the last orange bolt.

  The thought snapped Steven from whatever trance he’d fallen into, and the pounding in his ears quieted, exhaustion taking its place. He took great heaving breaths, still calling and dismissing as their attackers peppered them from the sides.

  The other fights were still happening; Clark and Alice hid in the back. What was the bolt thrower doing? Steven had lost track of him when he stopped throwing out attacks.

  He found the man and the stone-throwing woman at the very back of the group. They were crouched low, hands clasped together, as a warbling, stuttering ball of orange light began to form between them.

  Steven sent a shield at the man’s head, but he jerked to the side, not dropping Skill. The other attackers hadn’t slowed, and Steven was forced to send out shields to keep his team safe.

  He couldn’t spare enough focus to interrupt the Skill without letting someone get hit. The orange light kept building between them, the energy rebounding back and forth like a caged animal.

  With every second, the Skill grew brighter and more frantic, and a force began to emanate from it, rippling out in waves that caused the man’s green coat to ripple as if caught in a strong wind.

  Steven was still trying to decide how to interrupt the attack when the woman in cloth wrappings dove back from her fight against Vanessa and sent a cudgel of fabric at Patricia and Venessa.

  As that attack flew, the two stopped containing the Skill, hurling their hands up and letting the bolt crash toward Clark and Alice.

  Steven had never been one for numbers, but even he could do this math.

  He leaped, hurling himself into a dive while slamming a burst of hand shields into his shoulder blades one after another, and the added force sent him sailing.

  He hurtled past his Anchor Shield and pulled it, the wall of green energy dragging behind him like a kite.

  He hit the ground and rolled, pain flashing through his shoulders.

  Before he finished rolling, he called two more Hand Shields in front of the burning cloth and canceled the pull, leaving his Anchor shield to take the supercharged blast.

  Which left one more warbling bolt of energy headed straight for Del.

  His roll finished, and he came to his feet just in time to take the bolt to the chest.

  As the attack hit, Micheal’s Skill flared in a way Steven had never seen before, the blue light brightening, seeming to coalesce around his heart as it pushed back against the bolt.

  Then Micheal’s buff broke under the foreign Skill, the bolt powering through the light and driving through Steven like a drill.

  Pain filled his head, and he had just enough time to see the furious, unstable lance of orange light crash into his Anchor Shield and burst, the sound cracking through the mall like a gunshot.

  As the light cleared, he saw his Anchor Shield standing strong, and while his Hand Shields were cracked and tattered, they’d held.

  Not a single attack had reached the others.

  His vision started to go, and then his hearing and sense of touch. Everything went until it was just him, and his Class pounding in his ears. Then, even that vanished as darkness rushed up to meet him.

  ~<>~<>~

  “Why do you like that one so much? Isn’t it kind of ugly?”

  Steven’s mother turned and gave him a rye smile. “It is kind of ugly, isn’t it? Think that’s why I like it. It’s got character. Most of these other flowers are prim and proper, while this one’s kind of raggedy. Maybe I feel sympathetic for it.”

  He stared down at the haggard green flower as he answered. “I think sympathy for it is how you’d say that.”

  Her smile widened. “Oh, my boy has gotten so smart, not even done with middle school, and you can already correct your old mom.”

  Steven snorted and rolled his eyes. “Are you sure that’s because I’m super good with words?”

  His mother laughed. “There’s a reason I told you to take any English problems to your father.” She gave him a slightly smug smile. “And a reason I’m the one that works with numbers."

  Steven grimaced.

  His mother rose from the flower bed and ruffled his hair. “That is how I feel about English papers.” She said with a laugh.

  He turned to follow her as she turned back to the house. Bird song filled Steven’s ears, the occasional caw of ravens breaking through the musical chirps.

  “That was actually in our marriage vows, you know?”

  Steven blinked at her. “What was?”

  Her smile caused her eyes to wrinkle as dimples formed on her cheeks. “I moved on in my head without speaking. Numbers and grammar. In our vows, I told your father I would handle all the numbers he ever had to deal with if I never had to spellcheck something again.” She glanced back at him, smile shining, eyes warm and filled with laughter. “Best deal I ever made.”

  ~<>~<>~

  Steven woke to darkness and a steady pounding in his chest.

  His hand found its way to his chest before he realized it, fingers questing for flesh and broken bone, but he didn’t find any.

  It didn’t feel real for a few seconds; the memory of a twisting, screaming bolt tearing through his ribs superimposed itself over solid, healthy flesh. Then the memory faded, not vanishing, but losing a bit of its edge. “There we go; it’s important to manage things like this fast. The earlier, the better. Won’t achieve much if everyone’s a catatonic trauma-riddled mess.”

  Steven sat up and looked around at the darkness. “Are you messing with my mind?”

  The System sneered in that strange way it had, the impression washing over him despite a lack of a mouth to sneer with. “No, I’m not messing with your mind, not how you mean, at least. I hate mind control. It’s evil outside direct combat, and I find it tasteful even then.”

  There was real venom in the System’s words, venom that bordered on hatred.

  Steven blinked at that but the System continued before he could question. “Mental healing. Repairing the cracks that start to form. Death has a way to do that to a person. Though…”

  “What would you have done if you could have died? Would you have hesitated? Or acted as you did at the beginning of this all?”

  Steven wanted to say something snarky or witty, but he was so tired, and the memory of his mother’s voice and smiling face kept filling his thoughts. “I don’t know. Maybe? Maybe I’d be scared.”

  The System laughed, the sound booming through the darkness.

  “A point?”

  The System focused on him as it had only a few times before. Its presence filled the empty black, pressing in from every angle yet not quite touching him.

  It was close now, not much closer than before, much, much louder.

  “What were you thinking about Steven? When you jumped in front of the attack? What was going through your head?”

  Steven blinked at the intensity in the System’s voice, at the overwhelming sensation of its attention. “I didn’t think. I just acted.”

  The System studied him. “You just acted…you are weak, Steven. All of you are, but some have been touching on deeper things. I can feel your Class responding; your purpose pounds through this space like a drum, yet you still can’t quite reach it despite the resonance, despite how pure it echoes for you. It’s grown louder, more insistent, yet only the barest inch closer. How much louder will it grow before you touch it? Will you ever? I can’t wait to find out.”

  Its attention pulled back, the cloying pressure vanishing so fast that Steven missed a step. “Get some rest, Steven. You’re gonna need it.”

  ~<>~<>~

  Steven jerked awake, memories and sensations itching at the back of his mind. Before he could consider any of it, he jumped to his feet and looked around. He was in the living room, right where he’d been, when the System yanked them into the Scenario.

  Margie, Del, and Micheal slept in their seats while Markus sat on the couch beside Steven, staring out over the city with a steaming mug of coffee in one hand.

  “What happened?” Steven asked as his heart slowed.

  “The others made it out of the fight. Our attackers weren’t ready for you to stop that blast. It exhausted the two who threw it, and the others were able to take them out before they could recover. After that, the remaining attackers ran.”

  Steven grunted, rubbing a hand through his hair. His body felt as fresh as it had before the Scenario, and while his mind had gotten rested, it wasn’t enough. “I’m assuming we didn’t win; you look too worn for that.”

  Markus shook his head. “No, we put up a good fight and completed two more Events, but without you, we take a lot of hits. We got worn down, and another group swept into an event and took us out. They’d studied us, it was planned.”

  That wasn’t surprising. Not after they spent so much effort helping neighborhoods. You didn’t get attention without risk.

  Markus took a deep drink from his mug. “We did pretty damn good overall.”

  Steven slowly sat back down. “Then why do you look so somber?"

  Markus didn’t look away from the city, the swirling lights of the dome reflected off the snow, casting uneven shadows across his face. “Check your notifications.”

  Steven acknowledged the blinking at the corner of his vision.

  “Well, Anchorage, it’s time for the first training wheels to come off. There is no longer a flat upper limit to how many territories one group can hold. Instead, they are limited by how many nodes they’ve captured, and capturing a node automatically gives you some authority over every territory and its zone, including information on scenarios that spawn within it.”

  “Additionally, each captured node will give unique options to whoever controls it, and these are not things to turn your nose up at people.

  “Everyone in an affected territory will be alerted when a node is being claimed. There will be no quiet theft with this one. You wanna own land? That comes with a target.

  The System laughed.

  “Good luck. System out.”

  “We are at a tipping point, Steven,” Markus said, steam drifting up from his cup and curling around his face. “I’m worried.”

  Steven swallowed a lump in his throat before straightening. He was tired, his emotions were still tender from the memories lurking in his thoughts, and part of him wanted to just close his eyes and go back to sleep, shy away from all this, and let it be someone else’s problem.

  He opened his hand and called a shield, resting it against his skin. He felt its Weight. It’s solidity, then he pulled it into his voice. “It’s going to be okay, Markus, because we’re going to it okay.”

  The old man met his eyes, seeming to search for something. Whatever it was, he found it as he reached forward and rapped his knuckles against the shield.

  The sound somewhere between the ring of a bell and the thunk of bone on wood. Solid, firm. But the smile Markus gave him was gentle, and his eyes filled with warmth in an achingly familiar way.