Steven slowed to a stop, his tires crunching on the ice. His left foot tapped a steady rhythm as he stared at the red light.

Margie and Micheal complained about the weather while Buford and Noodle slept in the back, but Steven’s tuned it out.

He didn’t…he didn’t mind cars. Not when he was driving himself. But with other people? Steven’s shoulders had clenched themselves into knots, and he hadn’t taken a turn without checking it nearly half a dozen times.

If the truck on the right swerved into us, what could I do?

A tower shield would work, but only if he saw it coming. A Hand-Shield? It would break under the force. His hands tightened on the wheel. He couldn’t do anything.

He’d fought monsters and people with superpowers and had survived, had grown stronger.

He had powers that defied physics, and he couldn’t do a damn thing to save the others if the car crashed.

Too weak. He was still too weak to protect them.

The light flashed green, and Steven turned. His phone chirped, but he forced his eyes away from it.

Steven had wanted to take a different route, but he couldn’t justify it. This group had already tried to kill someone; lives were on the line.

He couldn’t afford to be selfish.

But god, he wanted to be.

The house came up fast, and Steven looked away.

He didn’t need his eyes to see it—two stories with brown walls and two birch trees out front, a sturdy swing hanging between them.

The old birch on the left had a chunk taken out of it but still stood firm. His- he’d gotten a long talk after that about caring for nature. It had stuck with him.

And right next to the tattered drive was a dip in the grass where he had started digging for treasure, convinced that if he dug deep enough, he’d be rich.

His hands ached, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

“…”

The feeling of the System's attention pulled his mind away from the two-story home and onto the god-like being that could peer into his head.

“What do you want?“

When the System answered, there was no humor in its voice. Only

Contemplation. “…Many things, Steven. Many things. But right now? Nothing. I am simply waiting to see how this plays out. Maybe you’ll die. Maybe you’ll succeed.”

“Oh, and what outcome are you hoping for?”

The System chewed his words over, and they’d nearly reached Markus’s by the time it answered.

“I would like for you to surprise me again.”

The System left, its presence vanishing from his mind without a trace.

Surprise the godlike entity that was who knew how old. Well, he hadn’t expected the System to want something reasonable.

~<>~<>~

Markus lived in a quaint neighborhood. Two-story homes with cozy yards littered with snowmen and forts of all shapes and sizes. It was the exact kind of neighborhood he could see an old grandpa living in, but that image clashed a bit with the unstoppable force that had been Markus.

Steven hadn’t been able to focus on him much in the contest. He hadn’t focused on much of anything except who needed the next shield.

But what little he had seen had been…humbling. The man didn’t move like the rest of them when he fought. It was like…like watching a professional skater versus a bunch of kids who’d barely touched the ice.

He’d mastered a language the rest of them were still learning the rules of.

But Micheal had insisted that the man was as friendly as could be.

Steven wished he’d had the wherewithal to get Clark’s number, but he’d been too afraid to think of…almost anything. He hoped the man was doing alright.

A kid waved at them from a bright yellow house. Steven waved back, and Buford let out a friendly bark.

Steven scanned the house numbers, but Margie pointed to a red two-story house first. It had big second-floor windows facing the yard, and said yard had a neat set of planters lining its edge.

“2047, that’s the one.” She snorted. “How’d the old woman find the little numbers before you two?”

Steven rolled his eyes. “You’ve never needed a pair of glasses in your life, and I doubt you ever will.”

She chuckled.

They climbed out of the car, and Buford danced in place, his tail wagging furiously as he looked around.

The front door opened, and Markus waved at them. “Come on in!” He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling with warmth.

They headed up the short drive, their boots crunching the ice beneath their feet.

Stolen story; please report.

Markus welcomed them into a long entryway with a shoe rack on the right and a line of coats on the left. Steven slipped his boots off and followed Markus deeper inside.

He led them up a flight of stairs to a small living room and open kitchen. The room smelled of coffee and cookies, and Steven noticed the oven was on.

A well-worn brown table sat near one wall, cushy seats around it.

A tall man in his mid-thirties with dark skin, shoulder-length black hair, and broad features sat at one end. Next to him was a stout, pale woman with round features around the same age.

The other wall had a handful of couches around a flatscreen. Three kids sat watching a cartoon.

They all turned to face them—two gazes full of exhaustion and worry and three overflowing with curiosity.

Micheal waved. Buford wagged. Noodle chuffed and walked over to Markus, and leaned against his shins.

Markus laughed and gestured to them. “Ella, Ron, this is Micheal, Margie, and Steven.”

“From the contest,” Ella said. Steven blinked. Being recognized was still utterly surreal.

“You had a team with Markus, Margie and Micheal? That’s a lot of M’s.” Ron said.

Markus chuckled. “I hadn’t realized that.” He waved at them. “Come, sit down. Let’s talk.”

They pulled out seats, with Buford and Noodle sitting next to Margie, their gazes intent.

“…So,” Micheal asked. “What do you know so far?”

Markus scratched his mustache. “First things first, you should probably ask the System to catch you up on the area claim.”

Steven glanced towards the sky. “System?”

“Huh? Area claim?” The severe tone it had spoken in before was gone, its usual cheer back in full force.

“Some schmucks wanna take over this area. No one stopped ‘em, so they can do things like issue announcements and know how many people have Classes on their turf. To stop them, you either issue a challenge for the area or force them out of it in the next three days. If they lose a challenge, they can’t enter the area or make a counter challenge for 90 days.”

“And if they refuse the challenge?”

”Then they automatically fail the challenge. Cowards don’t win challenges.”

Steven turned his focus to the table. “So, are we issuing a challenge or forcing them out?”

Markus clasped his hands. “A challenge is probably for the best. Either we…” his gaze flicked to the children, who were trying and failing to act like they weren’t listening in.

“Take care of them in the challenge or by surprise. Or we win the challenge without that level of force, and they are still forced out for at least three months.”

Everyone, probably including the kids, understood what Markus meant.

His stomach turned. These people had already tried to kill someone. And they were effectively making a coup. He understood that this wasn’t a game. But the thought of killing another person made bile rise in his throat.

Could he do it? If he had to. If he had no other choice?

Steven clenched his hands in his lap.

Maybe, but he wasn’t going to find out if he didn’t have to.

He quickly opened his character sheet and pulled Shield Pull off of Hand-Shield, and slotted it on Lumbering Tower-Shield. Then added Paci-Fist to Hand-Shield.

“What are the rules of the challenge?” Micheal asked, dragging Steven’s attention back to the conversation.

For a moment, Micheal stared off into space. It seemed the System had taken that as a question aimed at it.

Micheal grunted. “The challenge would be a one-on-one duel or a fight between both groups at an agreed-upon time and location. Each side can ask for a group or single duel. If they can’t agree on which, the System will flip a coin to decide.”

“Okay,” Margie said. “So we wanna try to sneak up and beat the shit out of them? Run them out of town, so to speak?”

Markus shook his head. “I like the idea, but I don’t think we can pass up on the opportunity. A challenge forces them to fight or leave, no other options. And they won’t be able to run or try anything else. They either win or lose to us right then, right there.”

He frowned.

“But we are facing an information issue. We don’t know how many we’re facing. I have a loose estimate of between 6 to 9, but I don’t know if that’s the entire group or if they have a larger organization backing them.”

Steven blinked. The man had put far more thought into this than he had. An organization behind this group hadn’t occurred to Steven, not even the possibility.

“Lots of someones are going to make power grabs, Steven.“

This was happening already. It seemed too soon, but there would always be assholes who decided they didn’t need to focus on surviving; they had to control other people while they were at it.

Markus cleared his throat. “This is dangerous, which is why I’d like to thank you three for coming at all. I won’t forget this.”

Steven shifted in his seat. The earnestness in the man’s gaze made him uncomfortable.

Margie smiled. “Of course, anyone who fights off a horde of people with me can call for help when they need it. But back to the matter at hand, what do you propose?”

Markus pointed at Noodle. “We need information. So, with that shadow Skill and my own Skill, the two of us should be very good scouts. If he comes back without me, you’ll know something went wrong. And with you all here, I won’t have to worry about the neighborhood if something happens while I’m gone.”

Margie scratched her chin. “Where are you scouting exactly? Running through the whole area looking for these people doesn’t seem practical.”

Markus nodded. “The Red Hand made another announcement earlier today. The strip mall, the one with the Kaladi’s and the Subway?”

“I know it,” Margie said.

“They’ve taken it over and told people to talk to them there if they have questions.”

Micheal leaned forward. “So you’re going to scope it out?”

“No. I’ll scope out the people they have looking for people scoping it out.”

Steven arched a brow. “You think the announcement’s a trap?”

Markus waggled his hand. “Not completely. They want to quickly establish themselves as a small authority in these trying times, so having a place people can see them is important.” He narrowed his eyes. “But they also know that someone is going to fight back. I told Micheal about what happened earlier, and I assume he shared?”

They all nodded.

“Well, since Carson undoubtedly told me, they will be on the lookout.” He leaned back in his chair, the cushions squeaking at the motion.

“They’ve been extremely proactive so far. I wouldn’t be surprised if they are the first people in the city to make a power grab like this. Or at least among the first. And they immediately started fishing for threats and tried to eliminate them the moment they were found. They’re not going to sit idle.”

His eyes hardened. “And neither am I.”

Ron and Ella had been quiet for the most part, but now Ron spoke up. “Are you that confident in fighting them, Markus?”

The old man met his eyes. “If the challenge lands on a one-on-one duel…well, unless their fighter has a Class purpose made to counter me, I am going to win.“

Steven believed him.