We stood then and just breathed. After my little rant, the thought of all the deaths, we needed some time to decompress. Janet held Roxie in her arms, while Tanya stroked its little head softly. I started to try to pet it, but I swear, the little thing looked at me with a ‘males not wanted’ look.

“Did you see that?” I asked.

“What?” asked Janet.

“That look your mouse gave me,” I replied. “It’s like it hates me. What did I ever do to it?”

“Well, other than threatening to kill her with a sword and complaining about her eating your cheese, a lot, and then, calling her fat, nothing,” Tanya said.

“You think it remembers that?” I asked.

“Apparently so, oh, and calling her, it too,” said Janet. “Don’t you remember that, hmm, Roxie? Ooh!, you’re just the cutest thing ever. I won’t let the big, bad man-boy hurt you. No, I won’t,” she cooed to her pet.

‘Oh lord!’, I thought. ‘Just what we need, a spoiled rat-mouse. And what’s with that man-boy thing?’ I wondered. ‘100% American male here!’

As if summoned by my thought, suddenly all three of our visions were taken up by a big blue box. Another notification and this one didn’t seem optional. Strangely, I thought I saw Roxie’s head jerk at the same time we all did.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Welcome to Day Two of Your Apocalypse

Another day, another 1.52 billion people. WE are not happy. Currently, 15% of the world’s population has died, while another 25% is injured. That exceeded OUR best day two casualty estimate by almost 20%. That’s right, 40% of your world’s humans have died or been injured. In one day.  It could have been worse, but it could have been 20% better.

Do better!

And as soon as I finished reading the last word, the blue screen didn’t close, but it released its hold on me, so I could close it, which I promptly did.

“What in the absolute FUCK!” said Janet. “Did you guys just read what I did?”

“You mean the bit about a billion people dying?” said Tanya.

“That totally blows,” I said. “I figured it would be bad, but not that bad. We still need to get stronger and make it to my mother’s house.” I must have raised a flag, because, of course, just then, the system had to interject.

Congratulations, Heir of the Duchess of Northern Tulsa

You have been designated the Heir of the Duchess of Northern Tulsa. As a result, you now have access to additional information in your interface. Check out the government screen for more information.

“Oh crap!” I said.