Tuesday Morning July 20th, 2240 ATE. Glorian Islands/Arctic Archipelago. North of Center-Island….

They traveled far for three beaten and exhausted students.

They traveled like they knew death loomed. Like they knew things were awakening in the water— rising at the scent and flow of their blood, sent into the deep in crimson rivulets every time they crossed an island and re-entered the blue.

Splashing. Heaving. Coughing. Roaring. The sounds were etched into Claude's brain. No one spoke— out of fear of being heard and energy conservation.

When night came it only grew worse. The temperature fluctuations finally reached a boiling point.

Tornados over the oceans turned to blizzarding hurricanes, throwing massive finned beasts on land and turning the air into a sub zero bladestorm that was near impossible to walk in without armor or proper clothing.

It was hell with a blue overcast.

They slept in a fallen log— once home to a creature of the wild based on the scents of feces and pockets of water resistant fur. But like all others, it was missing. Now, assumedly taken by the storms.

Claude dreamt as usual. Even with his sleep inconsistent and uncomfortable. He'd shut his eyes for a section of minutes and entered a new world— something barely better. Barely less dreary and hellish. Then he'd return to reality. Return to the deafening staccato of hail and harsh winds roaring to be let into their defensive log like a beast on the hunt for flesh.

The back and forth ended with the storms. His dreams prevailed.

Ended by a voice. One booming from the shadowy visage of a three-headed dog with the tail of a serpent. Its jangling chains reminded him of the hellish rainstorm. Clinking and crashing with every thunderous step.

The gates behind the creature were like nothing he'd ever seen, though. Climbing so high they pierced the flaming sky.

Despite all the noise, he heard the message just fine.

"Are you a guardian? Anubis spoke of the dead following in your wake, but can you keep them from rising? Can you protect the others from joining them unjustly in the under-realms?"

Claude didn't awaken calmly. But he couldn't shoot upward swinging. There wasn't enough room in the log. He listened— compartmentalizing the thought of another god scouting, to focus on the possibility of real world threats lurking.

Nothing but calm wind.

He shimmied his way out to a new world.

The smell of moisture and nighttime richness were thick as they rode the pre-morning winds.

Foliage and nature grown by his hand combed over the fallen log like hair. An attempt at extra defense. It lay in torn waterlogged rememberances of what it once was. Barely held up for even hours.

Just thirty feet ahead, a juvenile glacial-shark lay beached in the sand. It's black leathery skin was covered in lacerations were the blizzard hit the creature like a blade storm.

Its pure black eyes were circlets of rainbows as it reflected the beauty of the sky.

"Aurora borealis." Finn marveled as he crawled out of the log to watch the sky.

Claude looked back at him briefly. Deep bags circled his eyes. Tiny cuts and bruises covered his face and neck where his uniform left his skin exposed. He moved like more covered his body.

Claude wondered if he looked the same before looking up at the sky.

It was beautiful. Scary, even.

Lights like poorly drawn serpents slithered across the sky in heavy streaks and gashes for miles. They moved with the wind, vibrating and swaying in shades of purples, blues, greens and fiery reds.

"Have you seen them before?" Finn's voice was quiet— like he didn't know if he was supposed to speak or not.

"No."

"I come from the Glorian White-Steppe. It's just south of these islands. I can see the edges of them in winter if I come out early enough…. It's never this clear, though." Finn said.

Claude continued watching with Finn in silence.

The northern lights twisted and combined, only dispersing in bits and portions, making letters and numbers before their eyes.

"I've never seen that…" Finn mumbled.

Claude walked over to the log, kicking it a few times. "Ursula….. Ursula wake up."

"Ehm…. Five more minutes."

"This really isn't the place to sleep in." Claude said.

Ursula coughed, "Damn….."

Ursula was a large woman. To put it simply. Getting out of the log was a lot harder than getting in, requiring Finn and Claude to help her out successfully. Aside from her sleeves ripping off.

Somehow it fit her.

"Look." Finn pointed to the northern lights.

"Right… the leaderboard." Ursula yawned.

The northern lights had shifted into a glowing scoreboard laid across the sky, naming and numbering every student on the island.

From one to seventy five. The last ten places were crossed out. Assumedly student deaths. The rest hovered and shifted, seemingly ready to move at a moments notice. Ursula and Finn hovered around the late teens.

To his surprise, Samuel wasn't first place.

He was fifth. His name hovered in dark purple. Samuel L. Third Wave. One-hundred and twenty-five points. Right before him, Claude's own name shone in bright forest green. Claude G. Fifth Wave. One-hundred and thirty-five points.

The next three were as followed…

Third, Isaac A. First Wave. One-hundred and sixty points.

Second, Tai L. Third Wave. One- hundred and seventy points.

First, Nasreen C. First Wave. Two-hundred and fifteen points.

"There you go, Claude! That's how you get some revenge." Ursula punched him in the shoulder.

Finn warmed at her forced excitement despite her tired eyes before looking back to Claude.

"Why aren't you celebrating? Ursula spoke like this was a moment for celebration." Finn commented.

"I didn't do that." Claude replied, "I got lucky. I still can't beat him in a fair fight. Students are still dying for no reason. This is….. wrong."

"What do you think a hero is?" Ursula questioned.

"A savior. A public servant... this is—"

"Incorrect." Ursula interrupted.

"What?"

"You live in a forest. None of your relatives are Reborn. You're out of the loop. I tried telling you before. Reality is disappointing sometimes. Especially when it's covered in a blanket of propaganda so thick you could suffocate in it."

A well of anger born from disappointment and fear rose within him. "No."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Ursula laughed. It wasn't the throaty fresh cackle it usually was. It was icy and hard. More like a snarl, "What do you mean no? Are you trying to tell me I'm wrong?"

"Yes. You're wrong."

Finn looked between them and swallowed. "Guys—"

"Shut-up." They both replied.

"Look around! Look at the sky again if you need to." Ursula pressed him, standing over him in all her bulk, "I know this place— my brothers and my father did it and they all learned the same lessons. This is where your precious heroes are made, Claude. That term isn't synonymous with good people! In my experience it's the opposite. You're made into a killer here. We've got our weapons, we've got our battle grounds and the easiest way to survive it is to be a cutthroat hardass like Burp. No spine, no integrity, just a will to survive and level up."

Claude didn't back down, "Then what about Trey?"

Ursula looked around with squinted eyes, as if she was waiting for this Trey person to appear somewhere, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Trey. He's a healer I helped. He's the reason we were even able to escape." Claude explained.

Ursula threw her hands up, "Oh of course! The one man who shot someone in hiding for us! Of course. I was totally wrong about heroes in modern society. Forgive me, baldy."

"So… you really think there's only one Trey out of seventy five like Burp?" Claude felt his view of Ursula change.

"I think there's ten like Trey— like you. And every week I think two become like Burp so they fit in— so they don't die." Ursula spat.

"Then why are you here?" Claude questioned.

Ursula smiled like she was going to do that laugh again that made him uncomfortable, "You think everyone here wants to be a hero? Can you imagine Tai stepping between a demon-lord and a little girl knowing he'll die? People come here because they're drafted. For fame and money—"

Finn stood with his hand raised in the dark. He spoke when Ursula looked at him, "You still haven't said why you're here…. Hehe.."

Claude nodded.

"I'm here out of spite."

He deflated at her response. It wasn't as grand and on the nose as his own motivations. It was born from jaded complexity and simplified by one emotion.

It fit.

A berserker driven to heroism… purely by rage?

They both calmed in the silence.

"So, you think no one here graduates a hero?"

"There are systems— rules, that make it so they can't. Heroes save the world? What if this world is sustained by that never happening?"

Finn shivered.

Claude shook his head, "No. That doesn't make sense."

Ursula sighed, "Ms. Callisto was right about you."

"How so?"

"You're annoyingly stubborn. You're doing this out of ignorance."

"I guess… I'll start doing it out of spite." Claude wasn't confident in his words but he was angry and tired of everyone showing and telling him his life was a lie.

"Against who?" Ursula put her hands on her hips.

"You."

Ursula scoffed, "Good luck with that, copycat."

"Thanks, downer."

Something growled to the left of Claude. He and Ursula turned to attention.

Finn looked down at his stomach briefly before looking back at the glacial-shark, "Oh boy. I hope arguing makes you guys as hungry as swimming makes me! I make a mean trout fry. I'm sure this sea-dragon is no different!"

Ursula calmed, "I'm always hungry. Let's see what you got."

Finn blew some warmth into his hands and walked over to the shark. Once he stood at its midsection, he stretched… as if he planned to lift the one thousand pound creature.

"Finn?"

In the darkness, Claude could've swore he saw his uniform tighten as muscles bulged unnaturally.

Then he bent down and lifted the shark. The entire shark. He looked as thin as a needle under the sea beast. Only there was no break under pressure.

"What the…"

"Alright guys! Let's go further in land where it's drier so we can start up a campfire."

***

Starting a fire wasn't easy right after a hurricane and ice storm. Most everything was waterlogged and mushy. For half an hour they used stones to try and beat grass into a dry paste that was more flammable to no avail.

Eventually, Claude got the idea to bring up new growth of trees from roots deep enough below ground to not be affected by the water. It wasn't easy.

Finn and Ursula broke them down and used it to start a small campfire. Claude used a sharpened stick to begin cutting chunks off the glacial-shark.

It didn't take long for breakfast to be served on leaf plates.

It was salty and tough like leather. But it was filling. He didn't realize how hungry he was until he finished his first cut of shark. Then he went back for three more.

They all ate in the silence. The sun still was an hour at least from rising, but he wasn't tired. He was thinking— about what Ursula said. About his dreams. About what it all meant for the future as the campfire spit orange embers skyward.

"Hey….. sorry about this morning." Ursula suddenly said. Sometimes it felt like she could read his mind.

"Don't worry about it—"

"Oh I will." Ursula persisted, "I get…. Cranky, in the morning. And I am passionate about well, I'm just passionate. Sometimes that can ruin how I want the message to be delivered. You're like my only friend in the last…. ever. My anger comes from a good place. I don't want you to die out here for people who would kill you to get a better seat in class. Not if I can do something about it."

"Is that an exaggeration?" Finn asked.

"Speaking of exaggeration, why are you so strong? Aren't you an archer?" Claude asked, sharing an understanding glance with Ursula.

"I am." Finn replied proudly, "My daughter said she wished for me to be the strongest archer alive! So that is what I've been doing. Building strength to be the strongest."

"Daughter?…. You barely look twenty." Ursula commented.

"Village people tend to have kids younger. Shorter life-spans… more help needed with labor. Strength in numbers." Claude explained. "Are you telling me you only upgrade your strength stat?"

"Why upgrade anything else? I just said I wish to be strong." Finn looked as confused as they were.

"Holy hell." Ursula's face fell in her palm.

"I guess this is the importance of being a legacy-rebirth. Resources, system-literacy. He doesn't even know how to build his class properly." Claude realized. Irritatingly, that only made Ursula's previous words hit home harder.

"How much do I really know?—"

Facing the campfire ruined his vision in the darkness— fortunately, the sun was just beginning to rise, causing the northern-light scribed leaderboard to fade and the bubbles in the ocean to be visible.

Four collections of white froth. They danced at the island edges, growing in intensity like burning pits of stew approaching sometbing past a boiling point. Something explosive.

Claude jumped to his feet and tossed Ursula and Finn his freshly grown sticks.

He didn't need to see them. They came the same way to Ronin in many of his written expeditions as OceanLord in his younger days.

"Fish-men!"

They came like they were shot out of a tube, exploding out of the water with an inhuman velocity.

They hit the ground hard, speaking to their weight. The density of their bones hardened by deep ocean pressure.

In the dark they were hard to see properly. Their backside and faces were covered in black scales— similar in color to the shark. Reflective like metal. Now given a shifting rainbow luminescence thanks to the sky. Their front sides/underbellies were translucent, allowing Claude to see their internal organs tighten with rage as they eyed the dead— partially consumed shark.

"SHAAAAAA!!!" The leading fish-man roared. The barbed frills lining its eelish jaw flared in the wind.

"I think we ate their dog…." Finn commented.

The fish-men spun, whipping their giant fin-bladed tails through the sand, throwing a tidal wave of wet sand and dirt their way.

Claude turned and ran. Finn joined him. Ursula charged, swinging through the sand to press the beasts on the other side.

It didn't take long for her to join them as she was knocked backward like she weighed nothing.

She rolled to a stop at Claude's feet.

As she got up, his mind did what it did best under pressure. Prepare. Memorize factoids manically. Anxiously.

"Ronin helped Tangent teretologists make some of the most important breakthroughs in fish-man anatomical studies. Their humanoid physiology should make them awful swimmers since they don't process oxygen at high pressure like most fish….. but their bones. Calcium-cartilage hybridized and fortified by buoyant muscles allow them to move like bullets through the water. They're even worse on land. They feel like they're made of metal. Some are poisonous. More so in tropical areas. The diet here is too simple. They're just strong… The glacial environment forces them to be lager for more warmth. Which means they need more energy. Exploit it."

"Claude! Hello?!" Ursula yelled past his mental ramblings, "Did you hear me?"

"No. What?"

"I'll take the two up front. You and Finn take the smaller two and then help me after."

"We can't."

The fish-men sent another wave of sand.

"Why?!" Ursula yelled through the pellet barrage.

"We're too weak, we can't kill them fast enough and you can't take on two alone." Claude replied as he coughed through the sand waves.

"Wanna bet?" In the beige darkness, Ursula's aura shrouded her stick, turning into an icy energy spear.

The waves of sand stopped, leaving the three of them standing in awkward silence.

The fish-men were gone. And so too was the shark.

"Oh thank the over-worlds…. We got lucky!" Finn blew a kiss to the sky.

"Yea…" Claude mumbled as Ursula and Finn took a seat.

"Did we though?" He thought.

Luck didn't seem involved at all. Not when he thought about what Finn said.

Was the glacial-shark a loved one? A family member even? Would he not have a similar reaction if he woke up and found Frosty's half-eaten corpse surrounded by crocs in a river?

But that didn't make sense.

"Fish-men aren't stated to be as advanced as even the least intelligent elves. They form schools similar to tribes of the OldWorld…. Native Americans, Aztecs…. Only minus the farming and social aspects. They need numbers to survive the ocean. That's it."

"Are you reciting a data entry…. word for word?" Ursula looked up at him.

"Yes." Claude couldn't take his eyes off the water.

"Why?"

"None of that explained what the fish-men just did, Ursula." Claude replied.

The morning sun had begun to rise, casting orange arcs across the sky, almost matching the deep drag marks in the sand where the shark once was.

The ocean surface reflected the dark orange skyward ambience. It almost looked sinister. Unsure in its color pallet as it shifted from glacial night to fiery day.

"I'm sure it was a fluke." Finn provided, "Nothing to worry over! We're alive. We ate. It's time to find our friends. I wanted to bring them some fish too but this is fine. We can find more on the way."

"That's the spirit, Finn." Ursula got up and helped Finn to his feet.

Claude couldn't stomach looking at the waters anymore, causing him to turn and look further into the island, now more visible than ever with the rising sun.

His stomach twisted— reminding him of the fish-men's exposed organs. As if he needed a reminder.

Smack dab in the center of their small decimated island, no more than a hundred feet away, a statue lay in waste.

It was large. Made up of bone, dirt, stones and deep sea gems pressurized into a Diamond-like beauty. Even broken and weathered, he knew it was a shark, once held up by fish-men hands. A physical telling of how they venerated the simpler monsters as gods…..

He wondered if every day on the island would plunge him deeper into confusion.

He wondered if anything he knew was simple truth— or if it was all debatable.

He wondered if he could take it.

"By the way, what's a Cerberus?" Finn asked.

"Why?" Ursula replied.

"Claude was saying it in his sleep."

"You can't be serious…."