April 29th, 2020

The boy knew that something was wrong the moment his eyes cracked open. Blinking slowly, he felt his heart pounding in his chest, but when he looked from left to right, trying to help his brain catch-up to what his heart was telling him, he couldn’t see anything wrong. There was no light coming in through his bedroom window shining on his face. No alarm blaring in his ears. In fact, he couldn’t see anything at all. Then a thought ran through his head. Where was the nightlight by his door? The faint red glow of the clock beside his bed? The soft shine of the street lamp coming through his window shades? It was all dark, unnaturally so.

For a minute, he lay there, torn between burying himself in the covers and crying out in fear. He willed himself to stay silent, not to give-in to his nightmares, but the rising panic within him wouldn’t take no for an answer. The first screams were soft, whimpers really, but when they went unanswered, the sounds grew louder and louder until the door to his bedroom burst open and a man and woman came rushing inside.

When the two people came through the door, a woman holding a candle and a man holding a baseball bat, they found the boy lying tangled in his sheets, skin covered with sweat. But rather than the look of sympathy and love mixed with a small bit of irritation a young child might usually see on the face of parents awakened by their kid’s nightmare, the child found his own terror mirrored on the faces of his parents.

His mother rapidly pulled off the sheets and put a firm hand on his upper arm, bringing her face and the candle’s blessed light close to the boy’s own.

“Jason, you need to get dressed. Now.”

She did her best to keep her voice steady, but the boy could hear the fear she desperately tried to keep at bay. Seeing that look in his mother’s eyes, the boy fought the urge to bury himself deeper under his covers or climb under his bed. He took one shaking step and then another, off of his bed and onto the carpet beneath it. His father had already grabbed a sweater from the closet and forced it over the boy’s head while his mother went to find his shoes.

Within seconds, the three of them were outside, running down the dark Anacostia streets. The boy’s mother still held the candle in one hand, but there was a long kitchen knife in the other. The boy’s father held his baseball bat tightly in both hands as if he’d been asked to pinch-hit in the ninth inning against the Nationals’ closer. It felt as though there should be an alarm sounding, sirens blaring in the distance, but the street was pitch black and quiet except for the sounds of their feet slapping the pavement and the gasps escaping their lips.

The boy hoped that when they reached MLK Avenue, there would be light, warmth, and people. They found people, but no light or warmth – the terror of running through the darkness alone was replaced by the contagious anxiety of a large crowd who knew nothing other than to be afraid. They had been told the plan and shown the evacuation route, but none of them were prepared for the reality of being torn from their beds in the dead of night by the silent alarm of faulty electricity.

The boy clung to his mother’s wrist, feeling her muscles tense as she gripped the handle of the knife. All around them, shadows shifted in the darkness and faces flickered past, illuminated only by the dim, shaking glow of candles. A man ran past them carrying a young girl whom he used to tease in their 2nd grade classroom only two months earlier. A kind, old man who always waved from behind his lawnmower when the boy walked past him on his way home from school spun around with a shotgun in both hands as if the darkness meant to attack him. Neighbors, schoolmates, shop owners all passed by in a blur – kind people, good people who had smiled at the boy, treated him to ice cream, and helped teach him to throw a baseball. Now, their faces were stricken, pupils dilated with fear as they darted towards every corner and alley.

The boy’s father pushed them forward, towards the elementary school gym. The ‘muster point’ the man had called it. It had all seemed so silly then – who would ever want to attack Anacostia? Now, the boy regretted not paying more attention when the man had detailed the plan. Why weren’t the lights working? What was coming for them? More importantly, who was coming to help?

With blessed relief, the family broke through the double doors at the front of the gym and stumbled forward, nearly crashing into the back of the family in front of them that had suddenly come to a halt. Slowing down, they walked forward toward the center of the room where a crowd of nearly 100 people had already gathered. Overhead, the gym’s floodlights were eerily dark. Candles and torches lit up the open space, but the flickering light created as much fear and tension as it allayed. The crowd’s tension was palpable and a soft din of noise vibrated through the air like a swarm of hornets. A few people shouted out questions that nobody knew the answers to. Somewhere, a child started bawling.

“Stay close.”

The boy felt his mother’s hand tighten on his own. She had tucked the kitchen knife into her belt, but she glanced at it every few seconds between searching the walls of the gym. The boy nodded, his throat too tight to speak.

Then, from somewhere outside the door, the boy heard a shrill scream tear through the night. It was impossible to tell if it was a man or woman screaming, but it carried on for several seconds before ending abruptly as if the noise had slammed into a wall. For a second, it looked as if the crowd was going to panic and split in every direction, but instead, the group of people huddled in on themselves. The boy felt the backs and sides of his neighbors closing in on him and the air around him grew thin. He took deep, shuddering breaths, trying to absorb as much oxygen as he could, but it never seemed like he could get enough.

The boy was so boxed in by the adults around him that he felt like a traveler lost in a dark forest. For this reason, when the door opened again, he couldn’t see what walked in. He only heard the people around him catch their breaths, air freezing in their chests as the fear coursing through them turned into truly realized terror. He stood on his tiptoes, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening, but the top of his head didn’t come much higher than the man in front of him's waist.

The room was completely silent. It felt as though they were trapped in the darkest of nightmares and the boy pinched himself again and again and again. But he didn’t wake up screaming in bed, he stayed right there. Then he heard the first scream. He felt himself ripped from his mother’s arms as screams pierced the air and people moved in every direction. As men and women from his neighborhood ran this way and that, the boy fell to the ground, hands covering his head and his ears.

He was insensate, the world around him a blur of color as he huddled down, trying to disappear into the floor. He didn’t understand the fear or know what they were all running from, but it was impossible to miss the scent of blood in the air. Suddenly, he felt himself lifted off the ground, a strong hand grabbing him and tucking him under one arm like a football. He looked up and saw his father’s face, eyes filled with fear, but resolute – his mother only a few steps behind. They ran towards one end of the room and stopped there, backs to the wall.

It was then that the boy saw a Virus for the first time. There were three of them, walking forward towards the family. They were like monsters straight out of the most perverse of fairy tales – humanoid shapes formed of black, curling smoke and red pinpricks for eyes that tracked them like a sniper rifle’s target from a movie too violent for him to watch yet. People ran around them in all directions, chased by several other black shapes, but these three only had eyes for the boy and his parents.

The boy’s father set him on the ground and slowly edged forward, baseball bat clutched in both hands.

“Jason, don’t hesitate, the second you see an opening, run.

“Daddy…”

The boy saw his father look back, once, and try to give him a smile, but his face couldn’t quite manage the motion. His mother was right beside his father, candle lifted as if it could ward away the monsters while she clutched the knife in her other hand with a deathgrip. She too turned back towards him and did her best to comfort him.

“Honey, we love you. We won’t let anything happen to you, okay?”

Between them, his parents blocked the monsters’ vision of the boy and the boy’s vision of the danger ahead of him. The boy stood there against the wall, too terrified to move. He hardly noticed the warm liquid traveling down his leg as he lost control of his bladder. His parents continued to walk forward until the Virus were only a few feet away and the world seemed to pause to take a breath.

Then all three monsters leapt at the boy’s parents. The boy covered his face and curled back into a ball on the floor – unable to watch as his parents screamed. Somewhere, as if in a distant memory, he heard his father telling him to run, but he didn’t have the power to stand-up, let alone flee.

When he finally moved the hands covering his eyes, the boy saw only a single figure in front of him. The Virus looked down at him, craning its neck as if studying him as it slowly walked towards him. One of its hands had transformed into a bladed weapon, and the blade’s end was covered with blood.

Suddenly, there was a crash from the front of the room and a howl ripped through the night. This was different from a human’s scream. It was long and mournful, like a wolf howling at the moon. The Virus in front of the boy froze and turned slowly towards the noise. The boy’s eyes tracked its gaze toward the gym’s entrance, eyes glossing over the two crumpled, bloody forms lying mere feet away.

There was a massive, gray dog standing in the entranceway, filling almost the entire gap that had once been filled by double-doors. Its chest heaved up and down and spittle flew from its bared teeth. Even from across the room, the boy could see the rabid rage in its eyes as they scanned the room, picking out the blood-soaked Virus and fleeing people. Then it opened its mouth, and howled again.

“{[Call to the Pack]!}”

The words blasted inside the boy’s head and he fought the urge to cover his ears once again. These were not words that entered through his ears, however. It felt as though they formed as thoughts within his own head, but thoughts that clearly were not his own. The air split in front of the dog and a huge glowing line cut through the air. It was as if reality itself had been sliced through by a massive sword and light was bleeding out of the wound.

The rip in reality pulsed with an intense, white light and the biggest man the boy had ever seen walked out of it. He stepped forward with powerful, but almost delicate steps, his calves and ankles flexing slightly over his leather sandals. Rather than looking stretched and too big for his body, this man looked like he had been born from a race of giants. Not one inch of his seven and a half feet was wasted – huge arms and shoulders protruded from layers of gold, silver, and bronze-coated armor that looked as if it had been forged in a time of legends. A breastplate bearing intricate etchings of running horses sat snuggly over his torso and a long, crimson cape billowed behind him as if stirred by an unseen wind.

The man’s face was covered by a dark red beard and matching hair curled down his neck to his shoulder. In one hand, he held a long spear with a golden shaft and gleaming point – in the other, a round shield with a huge rock wall standing above a breaking wave painted upon it. Blue eyes filled with sorrow and anger swept over the room, taking in the Virus and the mass of terrified people. He raised his shield and it felt as though the whole world shook.

“[Aegis of Apollo]!”

The room that had stopped in wonder to watch the man’s emergence from the rift in space swept back into motion. People remembered that they were fleeing for their lives and Virus resumed their hunt for blood. The boy saw his math teacher screaming as he ran from a leaping Virus. The teacher was too slow, and the boy almost looked away as the monster descended on the teacher’s back, but then a shield formed in the air – a perfect replica of the giant’s shield – and stopped the Virus mid-leap, blasting it backwards into a nearby wall. All around the room, similar shields formed each time a person was attacked and repulsed the Virus and protected the people beneath them.

Two more golden rifts formed in the air beside the first one – an armor-clad knight rode through the first one, seated upon a white horse bearing a golden sword above his head and a black-cloaked shadow somersaulted out the other, throwing knives that whistled through the air from his hands toward nearby Virus. For a second, the boy forgot everything else and stared with wonder at the three heroes in the center of the room.

The man with the shield calmly guided people towards a corner of the room, stone-walling every Virus that attempted to attack them, while the knight sought out the largest shadows, running over them and tearing them apart with his sword. The final man was an indistinct shadow, impossible to spot until he seemed to materialize from the air behind a Virus, stab it in the back, and then disappear again. In the doorway, the dog continued to howl – one long, mournful note drowning out the sounds of the people’s screams.

The boy stood, legs finally working, and started moving towards the far corner where the man with the shield was attempting to gather as many people as possible. He took a few steps before stumbling on something below him. He looked down, trying to see what had tripped him up and froze.

They looked almost peaceful, lying on the ground below him. The baseball bat had fallen from his father’s hands and rolled a few inches away. He lay on his back, eyes staring sightless at the ceiling. His mother lay on her stomach right beside him, left arm resting upon his father’s chest as if they were lying together in bed. Blood still leaked out from both bodies in a slow trickle, soaking into the wood floor beneath them. The moment he saw his parents’ bodies, the boy’s legs stopped working again. He stood there, staring down at his parents, uncomprehending.

“Mommy? Daddy?”

He shook his mom’s shoulder and then his dad’s. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears as if he was hearing it played back over a recording.

“Come on, the heroes are here to save us.”

He tried to drag his mother to her feet, but he wasn’t nearly strong enough to lift her and her hand flopped limply back to the ground.

“Mommy?”

The boy’s lips trembled and tears formed in his eyes. He looked down at his parents below him, waiting for them to stand up and carry him away. His focus was so intent on his parents’ bodies that he didn’t notice the shadows approaching him. By the time he looked up, there were three forms hulking over him, staring at him with dispassionate, smoky stares. He stepped backward trying to run, but he stumbled on his mother’s arm and fell to the ground. The Virus moved forward, closing in on him and not knowing what else to do, he grasped his mother’s arm in both hands and held it to his chest.

“[Spirit of Enkidu]!”

The boy had no sooner felt the burst of light and heat behind him than a blur of gold shot past him into the cluster of Virus. The warrior ran forward and headbutted the Virus closest to the boy, sending it flying backward. Without hesitation, he turned and threw himself at the next Virus, tackling it and bringing it to the ground. One, two, three punches pummeled the Virus from golden gauntlets and its head exploded into a puff of smoke. The third Virus leapt at the warrior, but he was ready for it – catching the blade-arm inches from his face and redirecting it into the ground beside him. The boy saw the man grin, white teeth flashing from beneath his helmet, before punching upwards with both hands in a rapid flurry of jabs. Within seconds, that Virus dispersed as well.

The man leapt to his feet and turned towards the boy. He was still grinning, but the grin slipped from his face when he saw the body the boy was holding. There was a twinge of sadness in his eyes as he walked over, holding out a gauntleted hand.

“Are you okay, young man?”

The man’s voice was rich and deep and the boy felt a small measure of warmth flow through him as he looked into his s face. Every part of the man was golden – his armor, his skin, even his eyes were flecked with gold. He looked like a picture of a hero someone had drawn in a comic book as he crouched down beside the boy and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Come, let’s get you–”

“Look out! Behind you!”

The boy screamed as the black shadow leapt at the man’s back. The man reacted instantly standing and turning, but he was too slow. The Virus was already inside his guard, blade shooting towards the man’s face.

“[Immortal Blade].”

The cloaked man stepped calmly out of the floor. Dressed all in black, he looked like a Virus himself as he calmly raised his curved sword and cut the leaping Virus in half. The golden hero’s punch came half a second later, but by then the Virus’ form had already disappeared and the punch struck only air.

“Fayed, how?”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

The golden hero looked somewhat shaken as he looked around at the remaining puffs of smoke fading from where the Virus had just been. He clenched and unclenched his fist and felt at the spot on his neck where the Virus had been aiming. The cloaked hero pulled back his hood, revealing a surprisingly boyish looking man with a smug grin on his face.

“I am never going to let you forget this. Never fear, Fayed’s here to save the day!”

He looked at the boy and gave him a wink while the golden man’s face turned red.

“I- I was looking after this boy.”

“Sure, sure, Ramon. You were probably too busy trying to show off.”

“Fayed! Look down.”

The cloaked man did look down and the smirk vanished off his face. He saw the boy still clutching his mother’s hand and gave a slow, sad sigh. Behind them, more heroes had emerged from additional rifts and the Virus were getting rapidly destroyed. Seeing this, the golden man turned back towards the boy and crouched down beside him, a solemn look on his face.

“Can you manage without me, Fayed?”

When the cloaked man nodded and flitted off, the golden hero let his form go, armor vanishing into puffs of light. Wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans he looked like an average person, no older than 30.

“I’m Ramon. Ramon Martinez. What’s your name, young man?”

The boy looked up at the man beside him while still clutching his mother’s arm that had started to grow cold. So many emotions had gone through him that he felt blank inside, unable to understand what was happening.

“I’m Jason. This is my mommy…”

The boy tried once again to lift his mother off the ground, but again he failed and she flopped back to the floor. A look of pain and sorrow crossed Ramon’s face as he fought back the urge to weep.

“Good to meet you, Jason… Do you know who I am?”

“You’re the Lord [Adventurer]!” The boy’s face seemed to brighten for a second before it almost immediately lost its luster. “You’re supposed to protect us…”

Now a tear did fall down Ramon’s face and he looked down at his hands. He gripped them tightly into fists before letting them flop down beside him. Slowly, he lifted his neck until his eyes found the boy’s once again. He could see the young child shaking, body seeming to realize what his brain had not. His eyes found the dark spot on the boy’s pajama pants and put a soft hand on his shoulder.

“You’re a brave boy, Jason.”

The boy's shaking grew worse and he seemed to fold in on himself further, wrapping both arms across his chest.

“N-no… I-I’m afraid of the d-dark.

Ramon smiled through his tears and held the boy close to his chest. For a second, the boy resisted, body rigid, but then he let it relax and fall into Ramon’s arms.

“You know what? I’m afraid of the dark too, Jason.”

“No you’re not, you’re a hero. Heroes aren’t afraid of the dark.”

“Hero’s can be afraid of all sorts of things. We just have to do our best to overcome them.” The boy looked at Ramon skeptically, so he continued. “Have you heard that Jason is an adventurer’s name? A hero’s.”

“It is?”

The boy looked up at him with big, round eyes. Ramon saw tears forming in them as well, but beneath the sadness, he saw a small bit of hope as well.

“It is. Jason wasn’t just a hero, he was a leader of heroes. The greatest of adventurers who set off on an epic quest to find the golden fleece. He traveled the land upon his great ship, uniting the greatest heroes of his time to find the fleece. They called them The Argonauts and Jason was their champion.”

***

Present Day

Jason Myers stirred in his bed, blinking his eyes open. On habit, he glanced over at the two candles smoldering on the table beside his bed. They were nearly stumps, but the torch flickering in the sconce on his wall still burned brightly, lighting his room in a flickering, orange glow. Looking out his window, he saw the sun hadn’t yet risen, but the first hints of dawn were peeking over the horizon through the open curtains into his bedroom.

For a few minutes, he lay still in bed, reminiscing on the bittersweet dream. That night felt like it was a million years ago and yesterday at the same time. He could still remember it with vivid detail – the fear on his parents’ faces, the coldness of the Virus’ eyes, the sadness and compassion on the Lord [Adventurer]’s face. He looked over at the picture frame beside his bed and the picture of two smiling people with a small kid nestled between them wearing a baseball cap and glove. He let his finger trace over the glass, wiping away dust that had settled over his mother’s face.

sighing, Jason stood up and walked to the corner of his small room, kneeling on the cold, stone floor beneath the shrine. It was a simple shrine – a Star of Ishtar engraved on the wall with the adventurer’s creed, ‘I walk the journey to our salvation; no obstacle will block me, no danger will stop me’, etched beneath it. Below that was a small bust of the Lord [Adventurer], a smile carved into his face. Doing his best to clear his mind, Jason sat back on his heels and closed his eyes, muttering the words softly as they came into his head.

“Lord [Adventurer], Ramon, thank you for watching over me and my unit. Please, help me find the path forward to where I need to be. Help me keep my friends and brothers safe. Help me find the strength to overcome the darkness.”

He opened his eyes and stared at the bust of the smiling hero. As he sat there, knowing there was no way he could live up to the example that man had set, he couldn’t help but finish the prayer in his head.

“And overcome my own doubts.”

Jason sighed again and stood up slowly, walking over to his small closet to replace the sweatpants he slept in with his swim trunks. In a quick motion, he snuffed out the candles and walked out into the hallway. He took little advantage of the perks offered to an army general, but he did appreciate having his own room in the barracks. Few soldiers minded having an extra shrine in a bunkroom – many rooms already had shrines laid out to each of the primogenitors – but convincing the other soldiers to let him leave candles burning through the night was a different story. He had gotten into several fights over that in the early years before he became strong enough that people stopped bothering him.

As soon as Jason exited the barracks, he broke into a jog, heading for the river. Despite the early hour, there were already many people up and about around the keep grounds, either taking a run through one the obstacle courses or sparring in the pits before either became too crowded. As he moved outside the keep gates, soldiers were replaced with craftspeople and merchants – blacksmiths were already hammering at forges, carpenters sawing at logs, and fletchers cutting arrows in the buildings lining the street.

Jason ran on, coming to the end of the commercial quarter and entering the neighborhood in which he had once grown up. It hurt him to see its state of disrepair – homes sagged on-top of broken foundations and it was more common to see shattered windows than whole ones. He ran past the apartment building that Zacharius, the [Builder] in his unit, was overseeing the repairs of in his free time, but there wasn’t a single worker on the site at the moment.

It was a relief when he finally broke out of the neighborhood and reached the river. He still laughed to think of what his parents or childhood teachers would have said if they’d known people would swim in the Potomac for leisure or exercise – back then it was a dirty, trash-infested river that swimming in was more likely to infect your lungs than improve their fitness. Today, most of the industrial plants that polluted the river were no longer operating and it was a key part of the city’s defense, meaning it was carefully maintained and cleaner than it had ever been since before the city of Washington D.C. was built.

“General! I was worried you weren’t coming. Today’s my day, I know it!”

Jason looked up at the young man standing at the wooden pier and couldn’t help but smile. If he had gotten a salute like this from any other man dressed only in swim trunks with goggles on his forehead, he might have thought he was being mocked, but he knew that no part of Tyus Knowles was disingenuous. Jason stopped a few feet away from the earnest, fresh-faced boy across from him and saluted back before taking off his own shirt and shoes and throwing them down beside Tyus’.

“Why? Did you awaken a Tier 2 hero overnight?”

“No… but I hit level 34 yesterday! Plus I’ve been working on my form – think how you’ll feel when you can’t keep up with a Tier 3 like me!”

Jason could see the pride written all over Tyus’ young face and fought back the urge to roll his eyes.

“Oh, I rue the day…”

Tyus was the newest addition to Jason’s unit, joining only six months earlier. He, like many other young [Adventurers], had begged Jason to accept him into the unit the moment he graduated school and like many of those same [Adventurers], Tyus had kept asking. And asking. And Jason had continued to give his practiced refusal. But unlike the many other people Jason had rejected, Tyus had taken it a step further.

The first time he had seen Tyus waiting for him on the pier he had dived right into the water, ignoring the boy until he had had to save him from drowning one mile into his four mile swim. He had thought that would be the end of it, but two days later, the boy was back. It had taken two and a half years, but somehow, the boy had done what nobody else had thought possible – he had worn Jason down. So on his 21st birthday, Jason had arrived at the bar Tyus was drinking at with his friends, swiped the beer from his hand, and told him that he had had enough if he wanted to keep up in training the next day.

Jason walked over to the water and splashed some on his face. It was bitterly cold, but also refreshing after his short jog through the city. Tyus came up beside him and did the same.

“How far are we going today, sir?”

“Just two miles, we have a busy day ahead of us.”

“We’re heading out today, then? Already”

“I’ll tell everyone at breakfast.”

Tyus looked like he wanted to press further, but he fought back the urge and jumped into the water, emerging a few seconds later with a shudder.

“I can’t wait until summer…”

Jason smiled, lowering himself slowly into the water besides Tyus.

“There’s no better time to swim! Easier to go fast when the water’s cold. Short swim, so we’ll make up for it with speed, come on!”

“Since when is two miles a short swim…”

Ignoring Tyus’ muttered words, Jason shot out into the center of the river with the boy close behind him. They were two of only a few swimmers crazy enough to swim in the Potomac before the end of winter and they were joined by a few sculls in the water as well. Jason felt the water slide past his body and over his buzzed head and a sense of tranquility washed over him. The icy cold helped to clear his head and relax him as his measured strokes cut through the water’s surface.

Looking to his side while taking a breath, he noticed that Tyus’s boasts hadn’t been completely unfounded – the kid was keeping up with him, stroke for stroke.

“Let’s give him something to truly keep up with, then.”

Reaching the turn around point, Jason jumped into another gear, elongating his strokes and propelling himself forward with strong kicks. He started to suck in deeper and faster breaths each time his head exited the water every five strokes, but still he didn’t let up. He looked to his left, expecting the kid to be trailing far behind him, but was shocked to see him continuing to keep up. In fact, as they reached the last quarter-mile, he sensed Tyus picking up even more speed beside him.

“Oh no you don’t, not today kid.”

Jason burst through the water like he was powered by a boat motor and finally pulled a few feet ahead of his companion. He was moving so quickly that he hardly noticed the pier ahead of him until he nearly slammed into it. Tyus came up beside him a second or two later, breathing heavily, but with a big smile on his face.

“That… Was close.”

“Too close… When did the kid get so fast? It was like he’d suddenly grown up without Jason realizing.”

Jason smiled and clapped Tyus on the back as they both gathered their things.

“That was some swimming. You’re starting to look like you were born for the water.”

Tyus beamed and Jason felt warmth fill his heart.

“Can’t be an Argonaut without knowing how to swim, sir!”

“Don’t let Jeffrey hear you say that… You might fight yourself getting challenged to a match in the ring.”

They both laughed and started jogging back to the keep.

***

By the time Jason and Tyus walked into the mess hall, the sun was well up in the sky and the room was bustling – easily more than a hundred soldiers sat at the long, communal tables stretching across the room, leaning over steaming bowls of eggs, biscuits, and sausages. Some were sitting alone, but most dined with their units – the vibrant chatter mixing with the occasional clang of utensils on plates or coffee cups on tables.

Jason saw his unit gathered in their usual spot in the corner of the room, and both he and Tyus made their way through the hall to join them. He saw, to his delight, that there were already two steaming plates waiting for both of them – a sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich for Tyus and for him, an omelet stuffed with so many vegetables and pieces of meat that it looked like the plate was struggling to hold its weight. Jason sat down in front of the omelet alongside Zacharias, while Tyus sat across from him.

On one end of the group were the Graves twins, Jeffrey and Jeremy, having an animated conversation. And by animated conversation, that meant that Jeffrey was talking loudly and energetically, boxing gloves swinging from around his neck where they were tied together by the laces, while his brother, Jeremy, almost delicately placed food in his mouth as he silently listened. Despite being identical twins and sharing the same sharp jawline and dark brown eyes, their personalities couldn’t be more different. If Jeffrey was a dancing flame with his constant energy, easy confidence and playful smirk, Jeremy was an ice crystal – far quieter and more thoughtful. Jason would wager that for every ten sentences the pair spoke, nine of them came from Jeffrey’s mouth.

Next to Jason and Tyus were Zacharias and Manuel. Zacharias was the only non-[Adventurer] on the unit, a [Builder] who specialized in vehicle construction and mobile weaponry. He was a large man with huge, calloused hands and a stoic face who seemed like he was always covered with sawdust or stone fragments. Today he looked as if he had already been working on a project and still wore his tool belt and hard hat at the table. Manuel was a wiry, energetic person who looked as if it was painful for him to sit still. He was always eating or drinking, speaking with his hands or tapping his fingers to an invisible rhythm on the table. Today he was rapidly filling out a crossword puzzle, scratching out answers in between absent-minded bites of food.

“Thanks for the food, Zach. I assume that was you?”

Jason smiled at the man beside him before digging into his food. Zach gave him a solemn nod, finishing chewing his bite of food before setting down the fork that looked almost child-sized in his hands.

“Aye, sir, figured you’d be hungry when you got here.”

“How’s the project going? I ran past the apartment building on my way to the river, but I didn’t see any of your crew there.”

“Mm…” The man’s grunt was a low rumble that sounded like two rocks scraping together. “Stewards have me working on wall repair instead. Seems like every time I think I’ve found a few minutes to work on one of the housing projects there’s something else more pressing.”

“Ah…”

Jason swallowed the lump in his throat that was only partially made up of omelet. Although he was 15 years older than Jason, Zach had grown up in the same part of D.C. Despite the transformation of the city after the Viral apocalypse, some neighborhoods seemed to never get the attention from the city that they needed or deserved. Jason happily gave Zach all the time he needed to work on fixing broken apartments and building new housing, but it seemed as if he was always getting pulled away to something else instead.

“Yo, General!” Jeffrey’s voice from across the table broke Jason out of his reverie and he looked up at the smiling pugilist. “What’s going on? The newbie says you’ve got something planned for us!”

Tyus rolled his eyes at Jeffrey, but all of them looked up at Jason with eager anticipation in their eyes. Manuel even put down his pencil and rested his elbows on top of the puzzle although his eyes kept peeking down at it.

Jason sighed and put down his fork, eyes scanning the group around him. Jeffrey and Tyus were practically jumping out of their seats while even Jeremy and Zach looked like they were yearning to know more.

“All of you heard the stewards’ orders yesterday. We’re setting off today to start working on building out the infrastructure between here and Richmond.”

“Wow, today, already?”

Tyus’s eyes gleamed as he stared at Jason. He’d never been on a full campaign before – there weren’t many expeditions out of the fort – and had been more excited than anyone when they had gotten the orders the day before. Jason gazed evenly at all of them, scanning their faces before continuing. There was a mix of emotions present on their faces, but all of them looked excited to set out.

“No time to waste. The stewards have given us 300 soldiers – mainly [Adventurers], [Defenders], and [Builders] – to support us, but I’m in charge, which means I need support from all of you.

“Aw, you mean we’re not going to get to watch the new unit on their first day?”

“Jeffrey… You have better things to do with your time, regardless of where we’re stationed.”

Jason’s voice was chilly and pointed, but it seemed to wash right off of the pugilist.

“I wanted to see that new girl fight! I can’t believe we found another Tier 2… A little jealous, mind you, but wow…”

Jeremy rolled his eyes at his brother and opened his mouth for the first time since Jason had sat down.

“Maybe if you spent more time training and less time watching youngsters fight you wouldn’t have to be jealous, Jeffrey…”

Jeffrey gave his brother a mock hurt look before laughing and raising his arms. It looked like he was about to respond, but Manuel broke in ahead of him.

“So what’s the plan, General? How far are we going?”

“Our orders are to get to Herndon and establish an outpost there. If we can hold it, then we’ll get reinforcements and we can expand further into the forest.”

Manuel’s eyes widened.

“Herndon? That’s more than 20 miles… Is 300 enough to get all the way out there?”

“It has to be…” Jason stared at all of his men and saw the mix of uncertainty from some and overconfidence from others. “This is the first time we’ve ever done a mission like this to reclaim land. The stewards and generals barely agreed to give us even this much – they’re scared we’ll get attacked here and not have enough people back home to defend the walls.”

“Then we better do our jobs well.”

To Jason’s surprise it was Tyus who spoke. He could see the apprehension on the kid’s face, but also the grit and determination.

“Here, here.”

Zach raised his coffee cup and was quickly joined by the rest of the unit. Jason looked at the group around him and felt his heart swell. He loved these men – they were the only family he had left and he would give his life to protect them.

“We’re waiting for you, General. Don’t let our coffee get cold.”

Jason smiled at Jeffrey and raised his mug.

“To the Argonauts!”