“Steven, it’s Clark. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten ahold of you sooner. Things have been hectic on my end; I’m sure you understand. I heard you lot have been helping out around the city recently; good for you! Brought a grin to my face when I heard that.”

“I hope we can meet up before the restrictions drop, but if not, stay safe out there.”

“Clark.”

Steven read over the email one more time before setting his phone down. It was a relief to know the man was alright. He’d assumed he was when he’d heard about a man matching his description, but it was nice to have something concrete.

Steven turned his mind to presenting matters. Specifically, the cast on his arm. He flexed his hand. No pain, not even a twinge of soreness. He already had Micheal’s buff running through him, and the man had healed him today.

The cast was coming off.

“Why can’t you just give us the magic and not all this other shit?”

”Package deal, I’m afraid.”

Steven scowled. An injury that would have taken months healed in a few weeks, and Micheal wasn’t a healer, not really. It was more of a side gig for him.

What could a true healer do? Could they heal diseases? Even chronic ones? Disfigurements? How much could they do if they were too busy trying to survive this bullshit.

Well, maybe if we do our job well enough, things can return to some form of normal.

As pleasant as that thought was, Steven knew it wasn’t reasonable. They didn’t have the kind of power to ensure stability, could they ever? Could five people stabilize a city, regardless of how powerful they were?

Steven doubted it.

It wasn’t just a matter of brute force. They could only be in so many places at once. They’d need infrastructure, and that was ignoring the fact that Steven didn’t want even half that responsibility or power.

”You’re thinking too small in terms of what the truly powerful can do.” The System chuckled.

“Care to elaborate?”

”No.”

“Fantastic.”

Steven sighed, then took a deep breath. “Markus! Get the saw!”

~<>~~<>~

Margie’s truck crunched over ice as she pulled to a stop, the buildings of downtown Anchorage looming overhead.

Del and Micheal had given them a list and a pat on the back before retreating to their camp in the living room. The two had been working nonstop, making Steven feel lazy even though he wasn’t doing any less.

The First Baptist Church was on their left, a real gothic thing, towering several stories high. It was made of dark stone, and the wide wall facing them made it resemble a castle more than anything.

To its right was the downtown park strip, a strip of…well park. It was broken into sections with roads cutting through, but all told, it was about a mile long.

The section they would be claiming included about a football field's worth of park and the church.

“It’s a little public, but it’s not the first place people will think of.”

Margie nodded. “I agree. It would feel kind of weird claiming a church, though. But if the big guy upstairs exists, I don’t think he’d mind. It’s for a good cause.”

Steven didn’t ponder that. He didn’t have the energy for it right now.

“It’s a little out of the way. It’d be hard to defend.” Steven murmured.

Margie’s eyes scanned the road, her hand tapping against the dash. “But it doesn’t produce a resource or offer any benefit besides Scenario netting.”

“Definitely a mixed bag,” Markus said as he climbed out.

They followed, and the instant Steven’s boots touched the ground, he felt a small burst of energy course up his legs. The hell?

He glanced around, ready to call a shield in an instant. People were walking about. The weather was mild today, hovering in the low twenties, and while the streets were far from crowded, Steven could still make out a few groups.

No loners. That change had finished over the last week. You still saw the occasional loner walking around, but it was a notable sight. People walked around in packs, clinging to one another for comfort.

That was natural, but a cynical part of Steven couldn’t help but see it as another line of trust-breaking down. They don’t think it’s safe to go out alone anymore.

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They are probably right.

No one was looking at them, so what was that jolt?

“Did either of you feel-“

“A jolt of energy?” Markus finished for him. “Sure did.

Margie grunted. “Like my feet fell asleep for half a second.” Buford sneezed, and Noodle barked.

“Okay, so we all felt it. System?”

“Del and Micheal accidentally landed on something interesting with their first pick. Might be useful if you actually go for this spot. Or harmful. Or it might just make your feet tingly.”

“Well, thanks for clearing that up.”

The System sent Steven a heart emoji.

“Aren’t you a fucking comedian.”

He sighed and turned back to the truck. “Come on, guys, let’s go see if spot two makes our hands tingle.

~<>~<>~

As snow pelted the hillside, Del and Micheal sat around the living room, trying to decide which piece of land would give them unimaginable power.

The man’s shoulders were tense as he stared at the screen, one hand tapping his lapboard.

He didn’t like what they were doing. He’d made that clear. But he was still working.

Del respected that, but she also couldn’t help but feel a hint of resentment towards Micheal.

She was being reasonable. She wasn’t proposing that they take candy from babies.

She had gone out of her way to think of a way to obtain power without hurting other people!

Del wasn’t going to wait around for his hesitation to get her trapped under the boot of a monster.

She took a deep breath. Now, she was the one being unreasonable. Micheal had concerns; he had aired them, but he was still working with the team.

Micheal tabbed to the next option, and Del focused back on the screen.

A park on the east side of town. It was too big to claim with the restrictions still in place, but it would be a good target when they dropped in a few days.

Micheal started to tab over again before he paused. He tapped the air and glared. “System? Why can’t I see how many territory slots we have open?“

Micheal had asked, but the System answered both of them.

Del knew the man was getting a response like an old fairytale narrator, but for her, the System spoke in its usual tone, that of a slightly bored woman in her middle years. It reminded Del of a school teacher or a librarian who wasn’t particularly interested in their job.

“Because you’ve already hit your quota. The Dimond Mall is quite a big building. If you owned any other territories before trying to claim it, well, you didn’t try to claim it, but you know what I mean. It wouldn’t have worked. It would’ve been amusing if The Corners had one. They thought it would only count as one, maybe two territory slots, but if they’d won the claim, they would’ve lost all of their other territories.“

Ha. Good to know.

The Corners name made Del shift uneasily.

She couldn’t shake the feeling in her gut that they weren’t doing enough. That they were too slow.

No, not that we’re too slow. That she was. Too weak. She was pretending, but deep down, she knew that there was always going to be another Regan, ready to burn through anything she tried to-

A hand fell on her shoulder, snapping her back to the present. “Are you okay?“ Micheal asked. He was staring at her, concern written plain on his face.

She blinked. “Yeah, got lost in my head.“

He nodded. “Understandable. It’s easy to get lost these days.“

He paused. “Would you like to talk?” She stared at him. He looked so earnest, and oddly, something in his expression reminded her of Markus.

Del shook her head. “No! But thank you, I do appreciate the offer.”

Micheal nodded and turned back to the laptop.

Keys clicked, the sound suddenly too loud in her ears.

Her heart was pounding, and she couldn’t seem to get a deep enough breath.

After we finish with this, I’ll go to the manor, get some training in. Then, some more faction research.

Not enough. Not enough.

She closed her eyes. Logically, Del understood she was doing what she could. She was working hard; they all were. But logic didn’t factor in here.

It took her a second to realize the sound of keys had stopped. She opened her eyes to find Micheal staring at her again.

He pursed his lips as he settled back into his seat.

“Is… is there anything I can do to help?”

Del chuckled. “You know, I was rather annoyed with you, and now I feel like a tool.”

Micheal arched a brow.

“When you voted against going after more territory.”

“We didn’t exactly have a vote.”

“We were voting. If everyone had agreed with you, we wouldn’t be researching right now.”

Micheal nodded. “Yeah. But I’m working with you now. I understand the necessity.”

Del shifted, turning to look out at the Hillside. “You have to understand, Micheal, that I’m not used to…this. I expect you disagreeing with my opinion on territories to be followed by an attack. Either on my character, trying to undermine my position in the group, or literally.”

Micheal stared at her. “I assumed being in the Red Hand wasn’t fun, but I didn’t realize…” he trailed off, clearly at a loss.

“How could you have? You’re not a mind reader. I’m not saying that to try and get your sympathy; I’m trying to frame this properly. You have helped. Asking that, being here. All of you being who you are. Thank you.”

Micheal studied her, his smile soft. “Well, if you ever need to talk, my door is always open.”

Anxiety, embers of frustration that her emotions hadn’t realized she wanted to let go of, and a host of fears still burned in Del’s gut.

But now a torch of very real gratitude burned with them.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”