“NOOO!” Alex screamed out “Not my goop.”

The last time Alex cried like this was when he had heard that he would never walk again. Both were truly traumatic experiences Alex had suffered. He wasn’t sure if he would ever recover. He couldn’t focus on that right now, however. There were more pressing matters, people were injured and dying all over. He could hear the wails of their agony like a jagged knife through silk, cutting through the silence he'd so intimately known for hours.

He hurried over to the nearest group of injured Saxans. They were fleeing from a burning bunkhouse. Each bunkhouse was designed to house up to one hundred soldiers, so it was rather alarming that one had caught fire. There could potentially be a lot of wounded aliens in there. Alex helped a wheezing group exit the building before dashing through the doorway.

The smoke was thick and he could feel an almost physical resistance as he passed through the haze. Visibility was essentially nonexistent and he stumbled his way into multiple bunks. He walked, attempting to stay in the aisle in between the two rows of bunks, with hands outstretched to feel ahead of him. Each step, Alex swept his foot around hoping to feel for anything on the ground. He mostly just kicked at broken bed frames or pieces of the building. He walked for around a minute, barely making any progress through the long building. He kept his ears alert for any sounds of distress.

Alex got an odd sense of deja vu. He knew where it was coming from. It had been a situation nearly identical to this, that had derailed his life last time.

I’m getting the feeling that me and fire are not simpatico.

A few more steps and then suddenly something was different. He kicked into something hard, but it was much easier to move with his foot than the lumber from the beds or building were. He reached down to where he had felt it. It took him a few moments of blindly fumbling in the darkness for him to finally grasp what he had kicked—a leg. The leg of a Saxan to be exact. He felt around some more and found the rest of the body. Alex removed some fallen debris from the body and hoisted it up. Alex was now at least a little familiar with the environment even if he could see anything, so his trip back was much faster. He called over a Saxan nearby and handed off his unconscious kinsman before sprinting back inside.

Alex thought back to his makeshift gas mask that he had used in the park. It did basically nothing to block out the fumes and he had needed to stop multiple times to catch his breath. Now, with the help of his suit, he didn’t even feel winded. The suit had some way of filtering the air and Alex was extremely grateful for it. He had found out about this feature on a day his stomach was angry at him for something. His stomach was letting out all of its frustrations in the form of absolutely horrendous gas. At least that’s what Alex assumed it was. He knew he was dropping bombs, he could feel it. He couldn’t smell anything, however, the Saxans around him gave him roughly the same look they gave him after the crown had appeared on his head every time he let one loose.

That filtering was getting out to use now, otherwise Alex might not have even attempted a rescue. His suit really was super convenient and had many neat features. Alex would no doubt be finding little things like this for years to come.

As Alex continued his rescue effort, his energy reserves slowly began to climb from the heat. With that, the lights on his suit started to illuminate making it easier to see his surroundings. Each pass was faster than the last. There had only been eight Saxans in the scorched bunkhouse, only one of which was suffering serious injuries. All in all, successful mission. The work was far from over. Similar scenes occurred all over the camp. Alex aided in any way he could. He felt a sense of pride in his work. He always admired the heroes that helped suffering people. He had even seen multiple instances of heroes saving people that were staunch opposers of said hero. Right now, Alex experienced that firsthand. The Saxans did not like Alex at the moment, but he was glad to help them nonetheless. And help them he did. The next few hours were filled with Alex administering aid however he could.

Alex was out of breath. He didn’t remember the last time he had been so tired. With his enhanced body, fatigue was an issue of the past. He had pushed himself the brink of exhaustion. He sat, leaned up against a rock, looking at the smoldering ruins of the war camp. Smoke trailed up, carried by the wind, almost like smoke signals to the enemy saying, ‘Look over here. We are vulnerable. Come kill us while we can’t fight back’. The overall mood of the surviving members of the camp was that of utter defeat and despondency. Alex saw the slumped forms of aliens wailing, some with their head in their hands trying to shake this terrible thing away. Alex was glad that at least they had forgotten they hated him for the moment. That was until he saw Krizzik marching in his direction, anger plastered all over his facial expressions and body language. Anger that was directed solely at Alex.

“This is your fault grub! You have doomed us all. Everything was going well until you showed up. We were even beginning to push them back. We were winning. Now I don’t know what will happen to our armies. We have suffered a large loss today.”

Alex was tired of being treated like he was beneath everyone. His emotions finally boiled over.

“How is this my fault? I have slaved away for you for months! I have fought in your battles without so much as a complaint. I have killed a crap ton of your enemies. I even wiped out that supply cache even though I knew it was a suicide mission. I did all that and then came back here and still helped you all out. Absolutely ridiculous. I’m tired of this. I’m working my tail off and this is the thanks I get,” Alex yelled.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

In retrospect, the outburst was likely the buildup from his months of constant struggle after his awakening. Krizzik hadn’t deserved all of that. Alex was, at least partially, to blame for some of the bad things that had happened recently. Not all of it, at least he didn’t feel that way.

“Why would we thank you? You are directly responsible for this,” said Krizzik.

“How?” was all Alex said in response.

“The Great One has come for your head. He has come for retribution, for revenge. The apparition of that cursed object has incurred the wrath of the heavens. He tracked you to this camp. Had you been here, we would have offered you up as a sacrifice to appease him,” said Krizzik.

He continued, ”We have made an appeal with the Coalition. They have granted it. You are required to remain on Saxar IV for the entire duration of your tour and we cannot kill you either. We have been allowed to send you away from our camps. You are a danger to any around you. The Great One will not rest until the stain that is that crown is removed. We have great respect for the Sand Drake and will not make a move against him, but we also see now that he will not leave us. We had thought his ire was directed only at you, but it looks as though that assumption was incorrect. We have to remove him, or he will eradicate us and our hives. Your final mission is this—kill the Great One. Once you have done this you will be removed from Saxar IV. We will finally be rid of you.”

That seems a little harsh. I wasn’t that bad. I mean I caused the Sand Drake to attack the other day, and I guess this was related to the same thing, but still. He’s acting like I’ve been a thorn in his side since day one. I thought we were on pretty good terms until recently. Maybe I just wasn’t reading him as well as I thought I was.

“You will be given field rations and supplies. That is all we are required to give you. Once your supplies have been spent, you will be on your own. The Coalition will provide you with transportation off world but only after the completion of your quest. Your supplies are being prepared for you already. Follow me,” Krizzik began to walk away not looking back to see if Alex was following.

Alex ran to catch up. No more words were shared between the two of them. Krizzik wouldn’t even look at him. They just trudged forward. Alex trained his head at Krizzik’s back. He had been looking around, taking in the carnage around him. He grew tired of the scowls aimed at him. He hadn’t even had a conversation with most of these Saxans. Who were they to judge him? Now, Alex just stared straight ahead.

I can’t wait to get off this stupid planet and go back to Earth.

That was when realization hit Alex like when his grandma heard him say a swear word for the first time. Alex subconsciously rubbed his butt, the memory of the event deeply seared into his memories. But, Alex had realized he may not go home. They had said that he needed to kill that dumb Sand Drake before he could leave. Alex had grown a lot since he had arrived here but he still had a long way to go until he was able to beat that thing. It had been level 78 last time he saw it. He didn’t know if it had grown in power since then. It had attacked the Saxans twice and had been constantly attacking the Zotari the throughout their entire occupation. It wouldn’t be a surprise if it had grown. Come to think of it Alex hadn’t looked at his own growth in a while. He figured he might as well see the work he had cut out for him.

Alex Sullivan

Race- Human

Rank- Private

Grade- F

Class- Shift

Level- 22

Strength-115 (143)

Agility- 85 (109)

Intelligence- 52 (71)

Durability- 187 (227)

Endurance- 110 (138)

Health- 2,270/2,270

Stamina- 1,380/1,380

P.E.- 0/2,270

He had gained 8 levels during his stay here thus far. He had thrown all of his stats into intelligence because frankly, it was starting to hurt his feelings how low it was. His agility was also sort of low but with his other bonuses he was at least above one hundred. He had an extra 15% and his intelligence was still bad. Alex had noticed something somewhat alarming as well. He didn’t feel smarter. What was up with that? He felt like it would make sense if the stat made him actually more intelligent, but he was still doing some pretty dumb things. They weren’t on purpose, but they still happened with a frequency Alex didn’t appreciate.

It’s probably because I don’t have enough intelligence yet. I’ll just have to throw more in to see some of the bonuses.

Only time would tell. For now, Alex thought of ways he could get strong fast. He was 56 levels shy of the Sand Drake and he needed to close that gap somehow, and quickly. He had no desire to be stuck here for an extremely long time. Earth wouldn’t wait for him. If he didn’t hurry, he would get left behind. He had serious FOMO and didn’t like when he was left out of stuff. He had gone to a party one time two states over because he couldn’t stand not being a part of any inside jokes his friends had created had he not gone. He hated it. What made it worse is he hadn’t told his parents and when he got home super late, they grounded him for a month. That lead to him missing out on way more stuff. It was a problem.

Another problem was he was on his own. Before, he could do his fighting and go back to camp to recuperate. Now, he would have to fight, then go back to his camp where he would always have to be on high alert. He would probably have to be constantly moving as well to avoid the Zotari. If he stayed in one place too long, he would be too easy to track down. Worst of all, the only food he would have readily available would be field rations.

“Hey! You said that you were going to give me field rations. Is there any way I can get a different flavor or something?” Alex called to Krizzik.

He just huffed in response and kept walking.

Does that mean there aren’t any other flavors? There has to be. No way burnt sand is the flavor of choice among Saxans everywhere.

They arrived at the location of Alex’s supplies. There was no ceremony, no pomp. Alex arrived, they callously handed him his bags and sent him on his way.

“Where should I go? Can I have a map? Last time I wandered the desert aimlessly is when all of this started,” Alex pleaded with them.

“There is a map in your pack. The last thing we want is for you to make things worse than you already have,” the Saxan that handed him his bags said to him.

Geez. I feel like the desert is getting colder by the second. I thought only Krizzik was this open about his disdain for me.

The Saxan pulled out the map for Alex and showed him a few places that would be good to set up shop. With a direction and his supplies Alex made his way into the desert, leaving the war camp for likely the last time.