[Attention!

The second wave of the apocalypse is about to begin. You have ten seconds to prepare.

Note: Prove your worth or fall further behind.]

"What… the… fuck!" John cursed and got ready for more carnage.

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A moment later, a pulse passed through the whole street, removing all the human corpses and leaving behind only pristinely clean piles of bones.

"That's…"

The second pulse of green light passed through and the piles started assembling into moving skeletons and throughout the street were forming new tears in space.

"...bad."

Looking for a cover, John ran into an abandoned shop on his left and willed his dagger to fly above his head. There were now dozens of zombies, and a few new beasts similar to dogs, but more than twice as large and one was currently sniffing around the entrance, slowly getting closer.

John replied with a preemptive strike and commanded his dagger to go for the neck. It curved around the dog's head and sunk into the mangy rotting skin under its jaw, making the monster whine in pain. Pawing at its neck and failing to dislodge the shining thing, it gave up, emitted a garbled howl, and stepped inside the shop towards John's hiding place.

By its behavior, he deemed this monster to be a bit different than the ones he was used to killing until now. The three major differences were the lack of instinctual knowledge of their attackers, the clear reaction to pain from the wound, and lastly the ability to bleed. Especially the third was very apparent as the monster was leaving behind a trail of black tar-like substance gushing from its neck.

This made John reconsider his strategy and guide his dagger to cut a deep, long wound through its belly. At first, the rotten flesh resisted the sawing attempts, but after John changed his tactic and repeatedly stabbed instead, the hole became big enough to pour out its entrails and the beast collapsed soon after.

This was followed by a dull blue ball of ash and another discovery. The corpse didn't crumble to dust after its death.

Making a quick checkup on his deck, he noticed the amount of blue ash was now at forty-six, which meant this beast was worth a single pile.

The sounds of meaty paws hitting hard pavement brought John out from his musings and a moment later, two heads peaked inside the shop.

Sending the dagger at the one on the left, he carefully retreated behind the register, listening for the telltale sounds of movement. Lacking the line of sight left him unable to further control his summon, but any extra second counted. In the last fight, it took over fifteen seconds for the hound to collapse, but after barely five, the steps were already closing in.

He could hear the wounded one frothing further away and decided to call his dagger back and be ready to strike the second assailant. His opportunity came a moment later when an ugly head peaked around the corner, spotting him, and barking twice to announce its success.

"Ugh, you are an ugly one." From up close, it looked like a dead bulldog left in a moist cellar, all bloated and misshapen. His dagger struck the moment it opened its jaws and stabbed into its throat, making it jerk back and garble a wet cough. Sadly, it wasn't enough to stop it and two seconds later the enraged beast pounced over the counter and right next to him, trying to take a bite of his shoulder and failing because of the dagger stuck in its throat.

The second monster tried to join in but missed as John was currently backing away and ended up falling on the first one, making them both bunched up in the narrow place between the back wall and the counter.

John, not wasting a perfect opportunity stretched out his hand and willed his new ability to go off.

A wave of force!

A meter-wide square-shaped panel of translucent force shot out, immediately collided with the two beasts, and with a sickening crunch of breaking bones tossed them both back.

Holy shit that's cool.

The one with the dagger inside its throat had its head at an unnatural angle, unable to move and only rolled its eyes in shock, and the second was slowly bleeding out from the cut on its neck and failing to stand up on its mangled legs. John willed his dagger to fly out, but to his dismay, it was struck there and unable to fly out. The struggling monster soon gave up on its previous tactic and was now slowly crawling toward him, leaving behind a trail of black blood.

"Oh for fucks sake, just die already," he yelled out, grabbed the metal register, and kept smashing it repeatedly on its head. The damned thing weighed at least five kilos and the wet smacks it made assured a brutal but quick death.

The first dull loot ball came after the fourth strike and then with the same tactic, John finished up the paralyzed one, ending the fight with two more piles.

Taking a breath, he sat down, calmed his adrenaline-filled body, and frowned. In the heat of battle, he forgot about his injured shoulder, but the dull ache and slight discomfort made barely any sense. It should have been sensitive for days, but after Richard popped it back in he felt fine and soon stopped paying attention to it, and even now after bashing the head with a heavy register, it felt only mildly irritated.

Maybe it wasn't as serious as Richard made it out to be?

Having a moment of respite, he also began planning his short-term goal. Thinking about it, it was clear the people were being rewarded for some specific actions, and by his guess, killing the new monsters should be the most likely task. Also on his to-do list was figuring out the reason behind the ash piles, and there, the best he was able to come up with was them having a connection to the shelters, which brought up another point. He still hasn't even tried his personal one.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Making a quick checklist in his mind, he planned today like this: First, hunt the new monsters before they get killed out, then return home and test out the shelter and lastly, secure a source of food and water. He knew the Valiant's stand surely had some, but that would be only a last resort, as he preferred to be self-sufficient and not reliant on others.

After that, he focused on the new ability. It was far beyond his expectations for a mere uncommon card, which meant some serious drawbacks, and the most likely one was a long cooldown. Stretching his hand out, he willed for it to go out, and instead of a devastating blast, he got a feeling of how long until it was ready. It was somewhere between one-tenth and one-twentieth of the time needed for it to become usable which gave him a rough estimate of a half hour.

Darn, good last resort kind of thing, but not suited for regular use.

In the meantime, his dagger had managed to make golden cracks throughout the dog's head and get itself free, showing him that they were still vulnerable to the blessed affinity, but not as much for it to be worth the wait.

With all three dogs dead and a safe place around him, he opened his deck and linked the new card to his body. It was called Identify monster, and the description said a body modification card creating a small overlay above every monster, displaying its name and threat color.

Not knowing what to expect, he stepped out of the shop and looked around.

What the fuck is that, did I just get a video game overlay or what?

Above every monster was now floating a small black rectangle with text inside. The names around him were simple and written in white, likely to correspond to their piles. Dozens of good old zombies and here and there the skeleton of an unlucky deceased.

People were now coming out of their homes, carefully trying to kill the roaming threats, and forcing John to hurry up and join the fray.

After closer inspection, the skeletons were held together by the sickly green magic, and unless a major part of a bone was destroyed, they were able to ignore the cut and keep moving even with their leg cut in half and missing a small bit of bone in the middle. Luckily for John, they were extremely vulnerable to the blessed affinity, and the easiest way to kill them was to stick the dagger inside their skull and watch them crumble to dust.

"Nice," a woman followed by another woman and three men came closer, "you can handle yourself well, do you want to join us? We can use a competent ranged damage dealer."

Damn, she has pretty eyes, John thought, losing focus for a moment, but catching himself staring and making an embarrassed cough. "Depends, I planned on getting some kills, and I am not willing to share cards that are useful to me. If you are fine with that, I am in."

She lost her friendly smile for a fraction of a moment before schooling her features and turning to her group, arguing in hushed whispers.

A bald man with a rugged beard spoke out, clearly not happy with John's demands.

"Why should you keep all the loot for yourself? We will be the ones at risk, letting you stay safe behind us. Taking turns is fairer, right guys?" A few more nods, but John shook his head.

"I'll be frank with you. I am doing fine by myself and if you find my offer unfair, I'll head over there," he pointed towards the next street, "and leave you guys be."

After a bit more hushed whispers, they agreed under the conditions of him having the last pick of the cards they obtained, and him not trying to steal their kills under the guise of assistance. That he found agreeable and joined up.

It wasn't a group of friendship or camaraderie, but a simple convenience, and over the following hours paid off for both sides. John mostly focused on the skeletons and the big dogs—Rothounds by the blue text above their heads—and made sure the group wouldn't get overwhelmed, while the rest took apart all the zombies in the streets.

An hour in when they were ambushed by a pack of angry Rothounds, he was forced to choose between the likely death of their supporting member and the reveal of his second ability. Making a decision to help, he tossed the beast against the concrete wall behind it, saving Peter's life and earning some goodwill amongst the group. Funnily for him, he was rewarded a half hour later, when he obtained a blue drop from one of the Rothounds.

Sure, they were annoyed after seeing the uncommon card named Cooldown reduction but didn't argue, being well aware of his previous intention to keep the second ability secret. This card reduced the thirty-minute cooldown by twenty percent, making it not enough to be used often, but a little bit better nonetheless.

After that, the only other problematic situation was, when a different group of sixteen, all wearing some blue piece of cloth tied around their right hand, tried to pressure them to join up, and after being refused demanded all their cards instead. John, unwilling to directly kill, yelled, "run", and willed his dagger to strike the backs of their legs. Turns out, it is pretty damn difficult to chase a group of people while a flying dagger keeps attempting to hamstring you, and their pursuers have soon given up and left them be.

This unpleasant encounter, coupled with a little tiredness led them to turn back. Picking a different route, they continued to clear the streets, but the closer they got, the more often they ran into already cleared ones or the ones with a pack of Rothounds around a couple of torn-up corpses.

"So, this is it," spoke Josh, the bald guy and the leader of their group at the intersection leading toward the shelter. "Thanks for joining up John, we were a bit skeptical at first, but you proved us wrong and I am glad you had our backs. We will be returning to the Valiant's stand and getting some lunch." He patted his stomach with a hearty laugh.

"Happy to hear it Josh, and take care. Oh, one last thing, please, do keep my abilities to yourselves." After a few nods and mhms, the group split up, leaving him there alone.

Many people were now filling up the streets around the shelter, some returning, others running out, and John watched, with a somber expression, the chaos around him.

We were lucky the first wave hit in the late afternoon, if it hit during the peak hours, the death count would be significantly worse.

"You look lost, need any help?" A middle-aged woman in a black coat suddenly asked, making him jerk back. "Huh… I… Sorry, what did you say?"

"I was asking if you needed any help, you look a bit lost."

"Oh… no, I am doing fine, thanks." John looked around again before speaking, "It's just," he gestured at the new corpses, abandoned cars, and busted shop windows, "how could everything collapse and go to shit so fast, you know? It wasn't even a single day and already so many have died. Can't help but think of my parents."

She took a calming breath, before speaking. "My daughter lives on the other side of the city and I pray every hour for her safety. We must do the best we can and hope the others do the same for our loved ones." Then she pointed towards the beam of light shining into the sky. "That is my hope. Some brave man gave us the means to survive, saving hundreds of lives just before the second wave came and if it's true what they say, he hasn't even asked for anything in return. This is what fills me with confidence that no matter what, people will survive and inspires me to get out here and offer any help I can, meager as it may be."

Caught off guard, John only nodded. "It was nice meeting you, but I should get going. Take care and… thank you."

"Think nothing of it. Maybe the next time you see someone lost, give them a little nudge towards the right path yourself." She replied with a content smile and walked to a young scared girl with a green backpack peeking out from behind a crashed sedan.

"Hey there little princess, where are your…" The rest got lost by the people rushing around.

Leaving her to take care of those in need, he turned and slowly walked towards his apartment, his thoughts stuck on the conversation he just had.