Is my brother still alive? Jenny pictured Oliver’s face: his curly brown hair, his pudgy dimpled cheeks, and his thick glasses. She couldn’t imagine how he would've survived, soft as he was. Even though he was in the ninth grade, he was on the shorter side, and Jenny couldn't help but think of him as a baby who followed her around wanting to play games or talk about the latest movies. But if he was dead... if he’d died horridly here...

Jenny swallowed hard, waiting for the response. It seemed the thing was taking its time, as though it was searching or computing or... what if it was stalling? Or what if no time at all was passing, and she was just freaking out?

C’mon... c’mon! she urged. Aren't you some kind of all-powerful spirit thing?

Finally, the thought surfaced in her head:

> Oliver Spencer remains an active participant in the Survival Challenge.

She let out a long breath, feeling like a balloon deflating. Her shoulders relaxed. She raised her face to the ceiling. The little idiot was still alive. He was still alive!

But that meant Oliver must be fighting too. Had he figured out how to use the system? She bit her lip picturing him dealing with this. He was just a kid for God’s sake.

Or maybe he was with another group like this one. Maybe he was safe. Only a few people in the library were higher than Level One, but they’d at least fought off a few angels and survived. Other people had to have too, even if the human population had dropped so much. But if people were alive, that meant people were either fighting or had found a safe place.

That was when she realized nobody else here had weapons.

Dr. Lee had studied her armor and found it to be biological, but surely, he would’ve made some of his own? She felt her heart rate quicken. Why didn’t they have anything here? What was going on?

No equipment or armor or anything. She looked around, trying to spot anything that might have been created like her hatchet or Susan’s prod or Mr. Kim’s hammer. There were a few bloodied textbooks scattered on the floor.

Had they really just survived using their bare hands and flashlights? Jenny stared at the others in disbelief. Maybe the system wasn’t so intuitive after all? She’d had to explain to Susan how to use it before, too. It must just seem like a fever dream to people.

She licked her lips. Had Oliver managed to figure it out? They’d heard shouting earlier, and those angels on the second floor were chasing someone. Mabe a few someone's. Poor Mr. Lee had managed to create a hammer. Other people must have, too. She concluded that most people were too panicked to make sense of anything.

Someone came up and sat beside her. It was Mrs. Monique, the librarian. A dark-skinned woman with her hair braided to one side. There was an ugly gash on her face. Her right eye was covered by a piece of torn cloth taped to her forehead and cheek, but it was still bleeding. Blood ran down that side of her face. Her sweater was torn all over, the soft blue fabric covered in dark stains.

> Human (Level 3)

Mrs. Monique looked like she wanted to say a lot of things. She wasn’t that much older than the seniors; she was sweet and caring and always someone anyone could talk to when they needed a friendly ear. But now she looked as though she’d crawled through hell. She touched the remnants of Jenny’s armor, what was left of the maroon scales that lined her torso and arms.

“Where did you two get this stuff?” she asked. Her voice was ragged like she’d been screaming. It was no longer the soft welcoming tone Jenny was accustomed to hearing every time she walked in during her free periods.

Jenny swallowed the lump in her throat. Her hand slid off Susan’s knee and she took Mrs. Moniqe’s, giving it a squeeze. “We made it,” she said, finally finding it in her to say something. An overwhelming wave of sadness washed over her, and a part of her knew it was stupid to relax after the system had told her Oliver was alive. But she couldn’t help it, and that immense relief had opened the floodgates to all her other feelings.

Beneath all of that, there was that throbbing, burning rage at how unfair all of this was. How unfair everything was. She wanted to kill. Slaughter. She ground her teeth even as Mrs. Monique touched her injured hand with a delicate finger. She wanted to get away and question the thing in her head more. Wanted to know if it was in anyone else's head too.

> I am not.

>

> I have chosen you, Jenny Huang.

The thought came, and she winced.

Mrs. Monique withdrew her hand quickly, apologizing as though she’d hurt Jenny.

But Jenny shook her head. She looked at the glistening blood on the librarian’s cheek and pushed the creepy vibes aside. What could help Mrs. Monique, she wondered? The thought nudged her:

> A Minor Potion of Healing will cost 100 Energy. Sufficient Energy

She’d still have 338 Energy remaining. How many angels had she and Susan killed near the lobby? And hadn’t the energy received from the angels doubled at some point? Did that have to do with the Energy Core? She sensed that the system or that entity was about to respond, the thought lingering at the forefront of her mind, but she needed to help Mrs. Monique first. She’d figure the rest out as soon as she could be alone.

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Golden light solidified in Jenny’s hand turning into the familiar glass vial of red liquid. Mrs. Monique stared in awe, and Jenny didn’t say anything as she pressed it into Mrs. Monique's hands.

Several of the students wandered over, as well as Dr. Lee who squatted down and adjusted his glasses, staring hard at the vial.

“This looks like a lighter variant of the vial Mrs. Susan Brown left for you,” he said. When Mrs. Monique looked up at him with a questioning look, he motioned for her to drink it. “It’ll heal you.”

Mrs. Monique held her phone up to the vial and swirled the liquid. For a second, Jenny wondered if they had any access to the system at all. Couldn’t they see what it was? Then one of the students, Leslie Garcia, read out what it was called. A minor potion of healing. Understanding seemed to dawn on Dr. Lee’s and Mrs. Monique’s faces as if it had just registered for them too.

As soon as Mrs. Monique pulled out the stopper and downed the vial, she seemed to relax. The jagged scratch marks on her face lightened to a dull pink, and she even peeled off the makeshift eye patch to reveal a gaping dark hole. It glistened with blood and what was left of her eyeball.

But as Jenny watched, even that healed over. The angry red of her socket softened, the blood flow ceasing. Mrs. Monique used her phone’s front camera to inspect it, her working eye tearing up.

“Thank you,” she whispered, sniffling. “The pain...” She wiped her nose, squeezing her one eye shut as she struggled with her words. “It’s a lot better now.” She took a deep breath to steady herself before reapplying her eye patch and securing the bloodied tape to her skin.

That was when Leslie dropped down and grabbed Jenny’s hand. “How did you do that?” she asked, her nasal voice obnoxiously loud as she jutted her nose in Jenny’s face.

> Human (Level 1)

Leslie Garcia was a short, brown-skinned junior who Jenny knew from the physics class they’d both shared last year. Leslie was ridiculously hot. With thick curls of blonde hair (that Susan swore was dyed), a high forehead, and sharp cheekbones. She was blessed by genetics, with curves that made almost every guy in school fawn over her, and she flaunted it too. Wearing revealing, tight clothes, and using her charm to finagle her way out of any trouble, or into any situation she wanted to be a part of. She already had modeling contracts, and everyone knew she got some of the nerdier boys to do her homework for her. And she was dating Kevin, the school rising football star who’d dumped Susan as soon as Leslie had shown interest in him.

Jenny had hated her instinctively. She clenched her jaws, almost wanting to summon her hatchet, but she jerked her arm away from Leslie’s grip. If she still had fingers on her other hand, she would’ve peeled Leslie’s hand off.

Leslie scowled as though she’d been burned, but sat back on her legs and haughtily shook out her hair. She was wearing a black sweater, zipped up just enough to highlight her lack of a bra. The white t-shirt underneath didn’t hide much, and her black leggings were torn strategically in several places to show skin. She wasn’t covered in blood. In fact, looking at her, anyone would think it was just an ordinary day at school.

“Well, are you going to tell us or not?”

The girl got on Jenny’s absolute last nerve. The sense of entitlement pissed her off like nothing else. Jenny squeezed her wrist, right below the injured hand, and explained as best she could about the guidance system.

They have access to it, don’t they? Jenny thought when she’d finished explaining. She downed the rest of her water bottle.

> Yes. All participants have access to the Guidance System.

Then how come they aren’t using it?

> A Human’s capacity to utilize the Guidance System directly relates to their grasp of imagination. Utilization necessitates an open mind and an open heart.

But it looked like the others could see things once pointed out. Leslie was only Level 1, which meant she hadn’t gotten her First Blood bonus yet and had no energy, but she still saw what the Minor Potion was and announced its name. Then Dr. Lee and Mrs. Monique were able to see it too, and they at least had energy they’d be able to use. She got the sense it was like studying math. It seemed impossible at first, but once the solution was pointed out, the rest fit into place.

Dr. Lee had stayed uncharacteristically quiet while Jenny explained, and he was still quiet. He’d nodded and observed, but was now staring intensely at Jenny. She didn’t like the way he was looking at her.

> He has tapped into the Guidance System.

>

> He is beginning to understand. As are the rest of the Humans in this room.

Jenny blinked and looked away. She saw Mrs. Monique talking with Leslie and two other students. Dr. Lee seemed lost in thought. So, if you’re in my head, how come you know what they’re doing?

> I am connected to the Guidance System while it remains confined in the Veil.

She didn’t like the sound of that either. She remembered the three-headed thing she’d met in the water. In that other world, where it had taken her after she’d passed out. She remembered kissing it. Feeling it inside her. Inside her body, inside her thoughts. What do I call you? Chaos? Eve?

> You may call me whatever you wish.

Jenny remembered the vision of the naked woman strolling toward the naked man. They had to have been the first humans. Had that woman been this thing? Or did this thing become the first human woman? Alright then, she thought. I’m going to call you Eve.

> Very well, Jenny Huang.

Can you talk like a normal person?

> I do not talk. I do not speak. I simply am.

So that’s a ‘no’. Jenny sighed. Still, at least it now had a name. And whatever it was, Eve knew enough of the system to know what others were doing. To know that Oliver was still alive. Maybe it could explain the system to her. Maybe she could use it to figure out a way to end all this. How many people are left? Is Oliver still alive? Is he safe?

> Human population remaining: 72

>

> Oliver Spencer remains an active participant in the survival challenge. His current location is the western end on the second floor of this structure. There are several Human participants with him.

That was the floor with all those angels. Her eyes went wide. And he was still alive? With other people? Hope flared up like a drum inside her chest. But the way Eve talked about the ‘survival challenge’ unnerved her. And what had that initial message said? ‘The victor shall be rewarded.’

Victor... Singular.

She inhaled deeply through her nose and hesitated. What if the answer to that question was exactly what she thought it was? But before she could make up her mind to question Eve, she heard a cry from her side. Susan dropped down and wrapped her arms around Jenny so tight, she thought her ribs might break again.