Markus strolled onto his front porch, a thermos full of hot cocoa in one and a small tower of paper cups in the other.

It had been three days since the System mandated contest, and Markus’s neighborhood had settled into an approximation of normal.

Three children were gathered in a circle at the edge of his front yard, their expressions deadly serious as they set to crafting a set of snowmen.

“I see you’re all up and at it early.“ He commented, his puffy jacket whispering as he walked.

It was early enough that it was still dark, or at least would have been if the dome wasn’t shimmering overhead.

Standing a few yards away from the gaggle of children were a few adults nursing mugs of coffee.

Nearby yards had their own assortment of kids playing and roughhousing in the fresh snow.

Lacey, a spindly brunette who had just turned 10, shot Markus a grin as she worked on a snowman’s head.

The girl rarely felt the need to speak, making do with wide smiles and equally severe frowns to communicate her feelings.

The old man chuckled as the other children shot his thermos hopeful looks.

“Is that for us?“ Tom asked, his tone of forced calm failing to hide his hope.

Tom, never Tommy, was a tall nine-year-old with bright blue eyes and a mass of brown hair that seemed to yearn for the sky, regardless of his parent's attempts to tame it.

Markus hummed and scratched his mustache. “I don’t know. Did you ask your parents if you could go play?“

Tom nodded, his eyes on the thermos.

“Yeah. We wouldn’t be playing around now if they said we couldn’t. We have to be extra careful now because…“ The boy's voice faltered as he looked up at the sky.

His heart ached for the children. No one should have to go through this kind of fear and uncertainty, especially not children.

“Well, then I suppose this is some hot chocolate for you,“ Markus quickly added, hoping to salvage the boy's mood.

The nearby adults looked on with complicated expressions, amusement and pained smiles trying to set up camp at the same time.

Markus handed out a round of hot chocolates, then went back inside. After securing his own cup of coffee, he joined the other adults.

Ella, Tom’s mom, was a stout woman in her mid-30s with short brown hair, round features, and a soft smile that rarely faded.

“Thanks for indulging them, Markus.”

The old man chuckled. “You know it’s no trouble, Ella. I don’t have any grandkids to spoil, so the little artist squad is always a pleasant distraction.“

Ron, Lacey’s father, chuckled and ran a hand through his shoulder-length black hair. “Lord Almighty, I hope I have your patience one day, Markus. Though I have a feeling when I’m your age I’m just going to yell at kids to get off my lawn.”

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Markus laughed. “Nothing wrong with being a grumpy old man, I suppose. They say the classics never go out of style.”

The others laughed, but there was an undercurrent of tension, one that everyone felt but refused to acknowledge.

And it was deeper than the general unease of the apocalypse.

They were…cautious of him. It wasn’t his Class. While they were all still getting used to the idea of magic powers, a few other adults in the neighborhood had gained Classes, so Markus wasn’t the only one.

No, what made them uncomfortable was what he’d done without his Class. In their first Scenario, he’d gone off on his own, so they hadn’t caught most of it, but they’d still seen him tear through the first wave of monsters.

People didn’t just forget seeing something like that. When the others looked at him, there was a question on their minds.

Who was he?

The friendly neighborhood grandpa shouldn’t be able to take out monsters alone. He shouldn’t know how to kill.

They still trusted him, but that didn’t remove the hesitation.

It hurt, but he didn’t regret it. He’d do it again in a heartbeat. Better that the others be alive to look at him with suspicion than to die because he hesitated.

They joked and talked, all while doing their best to avoid looking at the sky. Markus joined in, enjoying the quiet morning the best he could.

As Tom set the last snowman’s head in place, a prompt filled Markus’s vision.

Area claim!

You are currently in the zone of an area claim. Another group is attempting to rest control of this region, and since no other group has tried to stop them, they have automatically been given partial control.

You have three days to contest the claim before they gain full control.

Markus froze, his emotions stilling as he worked over the words.

“System, explain.”

The System answered him, its rich voice and subtle British accent making it sound like a documentary narrator.

”An area claim gives a group authority over a region. At this stage, groups can only attempt to claim small regions and the benefits afforded are limited. Benefits include increased energy recovery and information in the region.”

“What kind of information?”

”How many Class users are in their region, how many Scenarios are in their region, and if someone gains a Skill or Augment in their region.”

“Can they command the people in their territory?”

”No. However, at higher authority levels, they can make laws recognized by me.”

Markus felt a spike of fear, but the System continued before he could interject.

”I will not enforce the laws, but I will inform the controllers whenever a law is broken.”

Markus could immediately see ways that could be abused. Whoever controlled the region could make laws that demanded anyone with a Class identify themselves.

Or they could forbid anyone from participating in Scenarios or killing monsters. Since the System would inform them if someone broke the law, they would immediately be able to weed out people with Classes while preventing them from growing stronger.

The next step would be making it so that only people with their approval could gain levels and Skills, and from there…. Well, it wouldn’t be long until the ruling group had enough Skills and levels to enforce any law they wanted to make.

“How do I contest the claim?”

“Either make a formal System declaration to challenge the claim or force the would-be controllers out of the region before the time runs out.”

Before Markus could do anything else, a new System Message popped up.

But unlike his normal messages that spoke into his mind while appearing as plain white text, this message was a bright pulsing red, and the System’s voice carried an extra note of gravitas.

”Attention, residents. The region from Baxter and East Tudor to East Northern Lights is now under the control of the Red Hand. Anyone possessing a Class must go to Chugach Square for registration. You will be assigned to a group to be sent out in the case of a Scenario or other form of attack, and aside from that are free to live your lives how you wish.“

Markus blew air through his mustache. “Well, that didn’t take long.”