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A Hard Reset
Chapter 21 – UDS day 12

Chapter 21 – UDS day 12

An arrow buzzed past my cheek, a hair’s breadth away from making contact. Reacting on instinct, I plunged into the nearby drainage ditch, pressing myself against the earth. The fractured two-lane road was sprawled out before us, drawing a line to the park entrance, to my father. A knot twisted in my stomach as I contended with barrier after barrier. With each heartbeat, the yearning to bridge the frustrating distance grew more desperate – if he was still out there, still breathing.

As I clawed my way to the road's edge, Wesley was rooted firmly on the asphalt, his solid stance as unwavering as his resolve. In one hand, his war hammer was poised, hungering for the first blow, while the other hand braced his shield. Under the merciless sun, Jayden's chainmail caught the light, casting a stark reflection that mirrored his steely gaze against the oncoming onslaught. A little way behind them, Hanna's knife danced in her fingers, her every move a silent promise of lethal precision. Sarah crouched alongside me in the ditch, her eyes focused, ready to unleash her arsenal.

The goblins were pounding the ground, closing the distance; there was no time to wait for them to engage our melee fighters. I leveled my rifle, the butt pressing into my shoulder, and took a deep breath. My finger eased onto the trigger, coaxing out a bullet, obliterating the head of the lead goblin. The shockwave sent him cartwheeling backward, toppling his nearby comrades like a set of goblin dominos.

Efficiency was the name of the game. I levered open the rifle breech with practiced hands, discarding the spent casing and replacing it with another mana-infused round. I sighted down the barrel again, ready for another shot. The goblins, now mid-field, were closing the gap. With less than fifty paces to our fighters, I sent a couple more peace offerings their way. The sharp retort of my rifle intertwined with the explosive symphony of Sarah’s fireballs. She conjured another fiery sphere, and it met a goblin face-first as it made the fatal mistake of crossing onto the asphalt.

Time was up. I discarded my rifle and pulled out my trusty Remington. But before I could bring it into play, the first opportunistic goblin took a swipe at Wesley with its crude sword.

Wesley, the living embodiment of a bulldozer, charged ahead, his shield acting like an IRS agent - the kind that empties every penny from your account, including an unfortunate goblin that found itself kissing dirt. Meanwhile, Jayden was doing his dance macabre, his sword swaying with a grace you wouldn't expect from a guy who could polish off a bucket of chicken wings in five minutes flat. How he managed to neatly separate a goblin's head from its shoulders was beyond me - perhaps a secret talent for precision hidden beneath that Dr Pepper-loving exterior.

Hanna, our very own ballerina of doom, wove her deadly pirouette around Jayden, her blades, swift and deadly as tax collectors, locating the chinks in the goblin armors like they owed her money.

I planted myself at the asphalt's edge, waiting to pick off any green runt lucky - or unlucky - enough to dodge our close-quarters disaster duo. When two goblins, clearly brainless or blinded by vengeance, made a run at Sarah after watching their buddy turned into barbecue, she roasted one like a marshmallow. I put the other one out of its misery with a quick, merciful bullet to the chest.

Suddenly, the violent opera came to a screeching halt. The remaining goblins must've realized their soundtrack was more of a requiem than a victory march. They beat a hasty retreat, with Sarah's farewell fireballs nipping at their heels, and my rifle singing them a swan song till they disappeared into the tree line.

Once the last echo of gunfire died down, I found Wesley playing nurse to Jayden. Shieldless Jayden, always a glutton for trouble, had gotten himself a shiny new battle scar. Wesley's hands glowed as he played healer, his voice holding a hint of 'I-told-you-so' as he looked around, "Anyone else needing a band-aid?"

Jayden grumbled back, "Just a scratch, dude, chill."

Wesley, the epitome of 'no chill', ordered, "Regardless, lets search the area, collect the loot, and hit the road."

As we started digging through the goblin leftovers, my vision blinked with a new notification. Not bad for a day's work.

Combat successfully completed.

[21] level 2 goblins killed

315 party experience points.

Your portion of damage—28%, adjusted for level [5].

You are awarded with 35 experience points.

The state of our loot was underwhelming, to say the least, but it was a small blip in the grand scheme of things. We plodded along the goblin-trodden path, the weight of our mission steadying my spirits. Hanna voiced what we all thought, but her words lacked the usual sting. "Damn, these goblins were stingy. The System’s pranks are getting old, whittling our damage down by forty percent."

I glanced at the combat log, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. "Preaching to the choir, Hanna," I replied, the small setback doing little to dampen my resolve. "One grudgingly given silver for a round with the greenskins. Not the fairest trade, but we’ve had worse."

Just then, Wesley, our resident silver-lining-seeker, chimed in. "Folks, let's not forget the bigger picture. We're unscathed. Jayden's graze is a love tap compared to what could've been. Give me safety and a less-than-perfect haul over a bloodbath any day."

Wesley was the steadying anchor amidst our mild grumbles. His words were like a gentle nudge, reminding us of our purpose. Even Jayden, the group's resident jester, found himself at a loss for a retort. His jests, for once, replaced by a thoughtful silence.

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As we nosed up to the park's entrance, an unnerving kind of jitters spread through us like wildfire. The road ahead, once as clear as a Sunday sermon, was now swallowed whole by a jungle of overgrown green. Trees sprouted up and melded into the busted-up asphalt, playing tricks on our eyes. The shadows were up to no good too, darting and skulking between branches, turning the air heavy, like a six-string tuned too tight. It was like some invisible jury was eyeballing our every move. The forest was holding its breath, waiting to see our next play.

We traded glances, the kind that didn't need words. It felt like we were all wearing the same invisible bullseye. Wesley’s grip on his war hammer turned white-knuckle tight, his eyes making a careful sweep of the timberland. Jayden, true to his warrior instincts, had his hand ready on his sword, ready to draw it at a moment's notice. Hanna's knives winked in the dim light, her whole body coiled like a spring, waiting to snap.

"Got a bad feeling," Sarah breathed out, her voice a ghost in the overwhelming quiet. "Like there's something wild and untamed making itself at home here."

At the park’s mouth, nature’s usual hum was replaced with an eerie silence that made the hairs on the back of our necks stand at attention. The leaves whispered and the branches groaned like they were in cahoots with something lurking in the shadows.

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Wesley was the first to break the silence, his voice solid as oak but carrying a note of caution, "Stay together, stay sharp. We tread lightly, but we’re not letting fear root us to the spot."

We moved, making our way over fallen branches and crisp leaves. The asphalt road started to crumble and fade with every step we took, turning into a forgotten path lost to the relentless wilderness. The sun up above was throwing a meager light that barely broke through the canopy, turning the forest floor into a dance of eerie shadows.

The feeling of being watched cranked up a notch with each step we took. Every twig snap and leaf rustle put me on edge, my senses firing on all cylinders. My heart pounded out a quickstep beat in my chest.

And then the growl, low and menacing, started to ramp up. Out of nowhere, a shadowy brute sprang at us. A cougar, but not like any we'd ever come across. This one was a beast, easily triple the size of any regular Joe Cougar, its eyes smoldering with a wild hunger.

As the cougar charged, my Sharps found its way into my hands instinctively. With a firm grip and a clear mind, I took aim, knowing one well-placed shot was all we had between us and the jaws of death.

The cougar lunged, muscles bunched and ready to rip us to shreds. I gave my trigger a firm squeeze, the bullet splitting the forest's silence like a hot knife through butter. It flew true, sinking into the beast's shoulder and earning a furious roar from the pissed-off kitty.

But damn, this cat had guts. It twisted mid-flight, changing direction right for me. Dropping the rifle, I whipped out my pistol, the muzzle spitting out a welcome gift for our feral friend.

First round nicked its side, a thin ribbon of red blossoming, but the cat only seemed to get meaner. It leaped at me, all teeth and claws, zeroing in on my throat.

Time went all syrupy as my heart pumped rocket fuel. I moved to dodge, but not quite quick enough. The cougar's claws scored a line across my side, cutting through my gambeson like it was made of tissue paper, and hot pain screamed up my ribs.

I rolled out of the way, letting loose a string of curses, and managed to get off another shot. Bullseye on the cougar's hind leg. Its yowl of pain bounced off the trees as it stumbled, thrown off its lethal rhythm.

Blood seeped into my clothes from the claw marks, but I didn't have time for a pity party. This cougar wasn't about to roll over and play dead.

Meanwhile, the others kept up their onslaught. Wesley swung his war hammer like he was born with it in his hand. Every hit was a masterpiece of thuds and grunts, his eyes blazing with the fierce determination of a man on a mission.

Jayden, nimble as a dancer, whirled around the beast, his sword flashing in the sun. His every dodge and swipe were as calculated as a chess master's moves, flipping the script on who was the hunter and who was the hunted.

And Hanna, quicksilver and ruthless, was a darting shadow among the chaos. Her knives were practically part of her hands, winking in the sporadic sunlight as she plunged and twisted. She was everywhere and nowhere, her strikes honed in on the big cat's weak spots, aiming to chop the beast down to size.

Sarah stood at the back, her fireballs casting an orange glow across the chaotic scene. She let loose her spells with the careful aim of a darts champion, each one finding its mark on the big cat without setting the whole forest on fire. Her magic zipped through the air, singeing it with heat, as they hit the beast and knocked it off-balance.

Then came the game-changer. Wesley delivered a hammer blow that would've made Thor himself nod in approval, straight to the cougar's skull. The impact shivered through the air, a shockwave that practically shook our bones. The big cat's eyes popped wide in the face of its doom, then it dropped, extinguishing its menace in an instant.

And that's when it hit me. A wave of dizziness strong enough to make a sailor seasick. My side felt like it had been run through a paper shredder, the cuts in my gambeson painting my clothes a wet red. My blood gushed out between my fingers, slick and warm, while the world started to swirl into a messy blur.

As the adrenaline left me, I felt a harsh tug at the reins. Darkness began to close in around my vision like a ravenous beast. I fought back, trying to keep myself grounded, but my head was in the clouds.

The others' faces went fuzzy, their voices morphing into tinny echoes. My knees went out from under me, and I hit the dirt, the thud barely registering in my buzzing brain.

Voices sounded off, a buzz of worry and hurry. But they sounded far off, like a radio turned down low. I tried to keep my eyes open, to fight back against the blackness creeping in. But my body was tapped out, and I went under.

Last thing I remembered was the hurried footfalls and hands, soft but urgent, as my crew rushed to my side. After that, it was lights out, the world slipping away into a quiet nothing.

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Awareness seeped back in slowly. The stark difference between my expected soft bed and the unforgiving floor beneath my gambeson was jarring. Blinking my eyes open, I found myself sprawled on the floor of the ranger cabin, the scent of decay underlining the aftermath of our tussle with the cougar. Claw marks slashed the old woodwork and carcass remnants littered the floor - a macabre testament to the beast's territorial reign.

Blurry figures sharpened into the relieved faces of my teammates. Wesley was first to break the silence. His usual sharpness softened. "Gave us quite the scare, Cade. You wouldn't budge, even after the healing."

Jayden chimed in with a playful jab, concern clouding his eyes, "Decided to hog the spotlight with that mountain cat, huh? Brave or foolhardy?"

Hanna’s smirk peeked through. "Your dramatic entrances never disappoint, Cade. Good to have you back."

Sarah's eyes held a gentle warmth. "We were all worried, Cade."

Their collective relief was a palpable force. It felt surreal that our camaraderie had formed within two mere weeks since the System's arrival.

"Thanks, guys," I rasped out, offering them a weak smile. "Feels good to be back."

Jayden clapped a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Now that you’re back in the land of the living, you should check your System alert.”

Energy trickled back into me, courtesy of the System healing me bit by bit. As per Jayden's advice, I summoned the awaiting alert.

Combat successfully completed.

[1] uncommon level [5] cougar elite killed

1000 party experience points.

Your portion of damage – 38%, adjusted for level [5].

You are awarded with 380 experience points.

The ghost of a smile played across my face as the adrenaline-fueled memory of the cougar fight receded, leaving behind a strange cocktail of accomplishment and relief. My XP counter had grown, putting level six close at hand. Only half of the sixteen hundred points remained.

The slow regeneration of my health points kept pace with my growing awareness of the wreckage around us. The ranger headquarters, where my dad had been before the System turned our world upside down, was a shell of its former self. Claw marks and destruction screamed of the cougar's reign. My eyes scanned my companions, silently pleading for them to dispel the dread gnawing at me—was Dad alive?

Hanna, catching my silent query, rose and weaved her way across the battered room. Her movements carried a heaviness that mirrored my own heart. She returned clutching something, a small metallic rectangle gleaming in her hand. She knelt beside me, revealing the inscription on it—Richard Taylor.

Her voice, a soft whisper of regret, filled the silence, “I’m sorry, Cade. We found this...it was in the cougar's nest."

Reality, cold and biting, clenched my chest as I stared at the name tag. It felt like a miniature gravestone for my father, each engraved letter spelling an end I hadn't allowed myself to fully consider. Hanna's sympathy lingered in her touch, but it did little to counteract the sting.

My fist tightened around the token of my father's end, tears blurring my vision. Each one fell in silent tribute to a man reduced to memories and a bit of metal. Around me, sorrow stirred the air. We all bore the burden of loss, tied together in shared pain.

Jayden and Hanna's mom was somewhere out there, swallowed by the goblin-infested hospital. Sarah's husband, a soldier in the National Guard, hadn't returned. Even Wesley had stared down the chilling face of loss when kobolds threatened his family. The name tag in my hand became a symbol—not just for my dad, but for all we'd left behind.

Letting it drop, the sound of metal on concrete echoed through the room, a bell tolling for the lost. My dad was more than this token—he lived within my grief, my memories, and the resolve to push on. I held onto this, a bond forged in shared hardship with my companions.

Pushing myself upright, I swiped at the tears staining my cheeks, smudging them across the blood and dirt on my shirt. My voice, emerging from the shroud of sorrow, carried both the weight of loss and the spark of resolve.

"Maybe I didn’t find the answer I was hoping for, but I found the truth," I said, my voice cracking from the painful reality. "Let’s go home."