Markus about gagged when he landed in the beauty shop. Not because of any childish distaste for makeup but because the scent of perfume was so strong it felt like someone was spraying a bottle up both his nostrils.

He blinked his watering eyes when Steven called.

Thirty seconds later, he pocketed his phone and turned to the door. He was pretty close to the Old Navy.

He took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. How had they even gotten it to smell like that?

He took another deep breath through his mouth.

Time was of the essence, so Markus didn’t let himself daily for long, but he allowed himself a moment to gather his thoughts.

Fighting again. And again. Did I know this would happen? Is that why I never promised to stay away, not even to myself?

He gave a dark chuckle and moved to the door.

He certainly hadn’t expected magic, but he had expected something would drag him back. He’d feared it.

At least you are fighting for something now.

One of the windows lining the store exploded as a woman dove through. She hit the ground and rolled to her feet, mumbling under her breath the whole way.

Markus recognized her.

She was short and stocky, with tan skin and hair cut short in a bob. He fought her during the Contest.

He waved. “Hello, young lady. Glad to see you’re doing well.“

She blinked. “Oh, come on! You’re with these goons?“

Markus shook his head. “The Corners? No, I was trying to get some shopping done.“

Her expression shifted. “Well, if you’re not gonna pick a fight with me again, we’re in business.”

She cracked her neck.

Markus eyed the windows she had come through.

“Are you being chased or?” He let the question trail off as the woman stretched one arm over the other.

“Sure am. The name is Doris, by the way.“

“Markus.“

The woman nodded, her eyes fixed on the window. “I brought protein bars with me, but this jerk blew them up before I could use them.“

Markus recalled her eating a granola bar mid-fight. She gained an immediate boost in strength after, so he was guessing her Class gave her a super metabolism or something along those lines.

“There’s a cookie shop around the corner and the food court further in. Mind helping me get there?“

“I’m trying to get to the Old Navy. The cookie shop is along the way.”

She beamed. “Wonderful.” Her smile grew a touch sarcastic. “Hopefully, this wacko doesn’t kill us before we get there.”

“Thank you for providing me with a good entrance.” A voice said from the hall.

The voice was deep and masculine and filled with the self-assured confidence that Markus associated with the young or the dangerous.

The man stepped into view, and he was… not quite what Markus had been expecting. He wore loose denim jeans and a loose white T-shirt tied into a knot around his waist, leaving a few inches of his stomach exposed in a makeshift crop top.

His shirt was stained with paint. Blues, reds, greens, and yellows marring its surface with no discernible pattern.

He looked like a handsome grade school art teacher, with a chiseled jaw and close-cropped reddish brown hair.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

He smiled, his light brown eyes full of confidence as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Hello. I’m Miguel.” He said with a smile.

Markus smiled back as he shifted his weight, drawing one foot back and to the side slightly.

“Markus.“

The man’s smile grew a hair. “Good to see someone so polite. The world ends, and everyone thinks manners have to end with it.“

His eyes flicked between them. “I don’t suppose you’ll just leave the mall, will you?“ He sounded hopeful, not for them to go.

For them to stay.

Markus scratched his chin. “I wasn’t planning on it, no. You people don’t have the best reputation. Killing is not a small thing.”

“It’s the end of the world like I said. Lots of people would say killing is a small thing now.“

Markus let the jovial smile slip from his face as his hands balled into fists.

“They’re wrong.“

The man’s smile gained an annoyed edge. “Oh, calm down. It’s not like we’re killing non-combatants.“

He stared him down. “I’ve read more than five different stories of you killing people trying to defend their neighborhoods. Their homes.“

The man looked genuinely baffled for a moment. “They had Classes.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world as if he couldn’t understand where the disconnect was coming from.

Markus started to nod and opened his mouth, then he activated his Skill and dashed forward.

The man cursed and backpedaled.

Markus closed in fast, but not before Miguel touched a hand to a blue stain on his shirt.

“Watch out!” Doris called, and Markus juked to the side as Miguel threw his hand out.

Blue paint surged up from his shirt, along his hand, and sprayed towards Markus like a firehouse.

He dodged most of it but a bit sprayed onto his foot. When that foot came down, he met no resistance from the floor, his boot sliding away like he was standing on ice.

Oh, well, that’s bad.

He went down, but at level 10, his reaction time was even better than when he’d been young.

An amber-covered hand slammed onto the tile before shoving off, rolling Markus to the side.

More paint splashed down where he’d been, and then he was hurling himself to his feet.

Doris charged in on the right, and Miguel retreated, peppering her with sprays of paint.

Markus kept an eye on his Meter; it had almost bottomed out there.

Miguel left the store, and Markus kept on him.

“You’re a quick old man!” Miguel smiled, his white teeth flashing as he reached down to his side.

His fingers brushed a section of red paint.

He hurled his hand out in a wide arc, and paint sprayed.

Doris ducked under the spray, but Markus was a little too tall to get low enough.

Some of the paint splattered on his back and shoulder.

Hot!

The paint burned like fire as it stuck to him, and Markus was certain his skin would already be cooking if not for his Skill.

Miguel threw his hand back, splattering blue paint down the hall.

He turned, took three running steps, then jumped and spun in the air.

He hit the paint and started sliding down the hall backward, the paint carrying him like he was on skates.

Markus kept after him, and thankfully his new Trait considered this combat, even if he wasn’t punching anything yet.

Nature Is War

Effect: Gain 20% more Meter in combat. Gain 15% less Meter outside of it.

His Threshold Trait was a simple choice. If he wasn’t in combat, he didn’t need to fill his Meter rapidly, but in combat? He’d be a fool to say no.

His Meter was over half full now, and he pulled ahead of Doris.

Miguel was fast. He was sliding along the floor at a sprint and could pepper Markus with attacks the whole time.

Markus dodged another spray of red paint when Miguel frowned. “Fine. Be that way. He touched a spot of green paint near his chest.

The paint flowed into his palm, gathering itself into a ball.

He cocked his arm back, then frowned. “Oh, come on!” He brought his other hand to his ear. His scowl grew, and he hurled the ball at Markus.

He dodged, but the ball exploded mid-air, covering Markus in the paint.

Some of it got on his shoes again, and his foot stuck to the tile like it was glued there.

He stumbled, nearly losing his shoe. “I’ll be right back, don’t run away. I was just starting to have some fun!” Miguel practically sang.

There was a flash of lavender light from around the corner, and Miguel jumped from his paint slide, the blue vanishing from his shoes as he disappeared around the corner.

Markus’s Skill dropped, leaving a wave of exhaustion to slam into him.

“Ah, he left….” Doris trailed off, running a hand along her hair. “Does that count as a win for us?”