I'd never been the kind of guy who chatted with others. While I always acted immediately to accomplish my goals, I was incredibly passive in starting conversations. Most conversations I was part of were one sided. That was how I'd discovered that the secret to being a great conversationalist is letting people talk about themselves. Whether they were people my age, elderly citizens, or children, I’d always let them do the talking while I listened.

It helped me form connections professionally and socially. More importantly, it helped me avoid telling people the details of my past. Most people were awkward at conversation, but that had never bothered me. Compared to the screams and shouting matches between my mother and father, even the most boring or inane conversations with others had become a fond memory with time.

Right now, I would've killed to be having one of those conversations.

Dust clogged my nostrils underneath my helmet as I heaved ragged breaths on the platform between flights of stairs. The moment I'd shut the door, the accumulated stress and damage of the past few minutes caught up with me.

My body was still hot under my armor from Miriam's flames, and my body was itching with adrenaline. My left arm wasn't hurting anymore, but the break in the armor that Glenda had made with her claw rattled with every movement. I eyed the entrance to the stairwell warily and saw Miriam doing the same.

The memory of the tentacled creature in the elevator was fresh in our minds. It could still be out there and if it snuck up on us then we'd be sitting ducks.

“Did it get out?” Miriam whispered.

“I don't know,” I shook my head. “It could be right there.”

“Or it could be on any other floor between here and the bottom of the skyscraper,” she added.

Both of us kept our voices down. My ears strained as I focused them to listen out for anything above or below us, but no sounds came. The stairway itself was insulated against the sounds of the floors around it.

We would have to open the door if we wanted to confirm anything.

Miriam’s body was twitching like a rabbit that was being stalked, and I didn't feel much better. I waved my hand in front of her and she jolted, her eyes tearing away from the door and landing on me.

"Let's go," I said.

“Wait,” Miriam’s voice echoed out across the stairway. “Um, please.”

“What? oh.”

There was a thump as Miriam collapsed onto the ground in a heap. Her body was trembling, and her hair flowed in a mess across her face and shoulders.

“I just— I just need to rest a bit,” Miriam stammered.

She tried to lift herself off the ground, but then she grimaced and fell. She clutched her shoulder where Glenda’s spoke had stabbed through her, and she shivered. Even after being healed, she had the memory of the pain and damage still fresh in her mind.

Looking at her made me acutely aware of how tired my own body was. It had been smacked around and hit by debris. I’d also gotten into a grappling match with an unspeakable horror. My legs were trembling, and my arms were falling. My spirit was willing to keep running, but my body was failing to keep up.

Both of us needed rest.

There was a time for action, but this wasn't it. Unfortunately, whatever had been coming through the elevator wouldn't follow our schedule. I needed to check if we were safe before we took a break.

“If there's something out there, we have to go,” I said. I could see that she wanted to protest, but then she clenched her jaw and nodded her head.

She knew what was at stake here.

“I'll carry you myself if I have to,” I added.

It was difficult to move quietly in my armor, but I made my way to the door and opened it carefully. The corridor was clear, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The elevator door was still ajar, and I could see it had crumpled where the creature had tried to push through it. Clearly it had failed.

More importantly, most of the ceiling was still clinging on fiercely. And the dust had settled. The worst of the collapse was over, and the building wouldn't fall on our heads anytime soon.

The tension drained from my body as I closed the door and made my way toward Miriam. The stairwell was quiet, and we'd be able to hear any other people or creatures entering it from a mile away.

I sat down beside my coworker and looked at the damage my armor had sustained. The section of gauntlet that had been slashed in the fight with Glenda was clinking together. A strange quirk of the hyper-flexible material. In the silence of the stairwell each rattle sounded like a gunshot. I could even feel a cool breeze washing over my leg from the hole Glenda’s spike had made. Thankfully the toxic weapon had disappeared the moment she'd died, or I wouldn't be able to walk at all.

Seeing the stairs reminded me that there was another problem that I hadn't considered. Moving down the steps in armored boots would be really hard.

“Why did this happen?” Miriam asked.

Her words brushed softly against my ear, but I didn't have an answer for her.

We sat in silence, but that lasted a full five seconds as I sat down, and my armor scratched against the concrete below me. Then the floor let out a screech of protest as I shuffled back awkwardly to rest against the wall and Miriam snorted.

“Are you even going to be able to walk down the stairs?” She asked.

“I have no idea,” I admitted.

This was the downside to being wrapped in a suit of metal. Even though it was lighter than it had any right to be, and much more flexible, that didn't mean that it was perfect. All of my major movements were more difficult to execute. My legs took shorter strides, and my ability to climb downstairs was heavily impaired.

I looked at the bottom of the flight of stairs. It wasn't a long distance. The designers had broken each floor into two flights of stairs that doubled back on each other.

“Maybe you can jump down,” she said. "Two quick jumps and you're already down to the next floor.

"I'm in a giant metal suit. My legs would shatter the moment I landed,” I said. “And I’d make too much noise.”

"Doesn't your armor protect you from that kind of stuff?" Miriam asked.

She glanced back over her shoulder at the entrance. Our voices were growing louder as we grew more comfortable, but our vigilance never stopped. Both of us were on alert for the slightest sound.

"I don't know what this stuff protects me from. Heck, I don't even know what it's made of or where it came from. I don't know if I can take a bullet, or if a solid punch will break it,” I said. “I'll have to do some testing when we're not in danger.”

Metallic blue seams gleamed as I flexed my fingers experimentally in front of me. The card hadn't told me much about the armor itself, but it had said it would be compatible with my stats.

What were my stats?

The past few minutes had been hectic and rushed, but now I had a moment of time to think. The messages I'd been receiving flashed through my mind. Several had mentioned stats, and aspects. A few had also mentioned a core.

One of the blue boxes had told me that there was a specific phrase I could say. My memory was fuzzy, but after a couple of seconds two words came to mind.

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"Status screen.”

Name: Shane Decker.

Race: Human (#56).

Class: N/A (foundational cores: 1/3).

Streaming Rank: #6,156,265,635.

Current viewers: 2.

Cores:

Foundational Core (Defense): Progress 29%.

Foundational Core: N/A.

Foundational Core: N/A.

Stats:

Vitality: 9.

Wisdom: 10.

Intelligence: 9.

Defense: 18 (.54).

Skills:

Twilight Sun (tier 1/upgradeable): Level 2. +1 DEF. Bonus 3% DEF, 1% STR (locked), and 1% SPD (locked).

A single blue box filled with words and numbers engulfed my vision the moment I spoke. This time I was expecting it. I slowed my movements and Miriam paused beside me, alarm on her features. I raised my hand reassuringly.

“A blue box appeared when I said the words ‘status screen’,” I said.

Miriam’s head bobbed up as she listened.

“Status Screen,” she said.

Her eyes focused in front of her in a familiar motion as her blue box appeared. I couldn't see it, but I didn't have to. I had my own to examine.

It was light blue, and transparent. I'd seen the format before in old computer programs. The words shimmered as though made of water when I tried to look at them closely.

What I read unnerved me more than the creatures I'd seen on the thirty ninth floor.

Current viewers: 2

I was being watched. I’d had evidence of it, but this was confirmation. Someone or something was watching me, and they had sent me a message telling me to kill Miriam.

What was their intention? It was something I'd have to piece together sooner or later.

The other words and numbers meant little to me, but I could piece some things together. The stats seemed to be measuring things about me. My intelligence and wisdom had been reduced to numbers, and so had my vitality. But I didn't know how vitality was measured. It could be my health in terms of gut health or even how strong my muscles were.

Just thinking about it was overwhelming. I hadn't remembered taking any IQ tests or doing any body scans.

The cores were even more confusing. However, the single core I had was progressing toward something. And that progress had only increased when I'd taken part in killing Glenda.

Was it telling me I had to kill people to progress further?

“This is terrifying,” Miriam said.

I glanced at her, and I realized I could see her through the screen. The blue box was letting me look at her at the same time that I looked at it.

Then the stairs began to shake, and my mind came crashing back to reality.

This time the blue box disappeared before I told it to. I noted it in the back of my mind, but my focus was on my surroundings. Miriam had frozen on the spot.

The earthquake I was expecting didn't manifest and the tremor lasted only a second before disappearing.

Nothing came running toward us, but we stayed still for a full minute. We didn't dare move. We were in a safe space, but I'd learnt my lesson walking into Harold’s office. A single wrong step could cost me my life and I didn't know what else was inside this building.

I'd been considering taking off my armor to move down the stairs faster, but I quickly changed my mind.

“Right, the armor stays on,” I said.

Miriam’s head shot up and I saw hurt in her eyes.

“You don't trust me, do you?” She asked.

Clearly, she'd misunderstood what I'd meant when I'd spoken aloud, but I didn't dismiss her question immediately. There was truth to what she was saying.

“No,” I said.

I wanted to trust her. I really did. There was no better safety net in this kind of situation than a companion I could rely on. But Miriam was a stranger. I’d only met her today, and I had spent more time watching her burn her co-worker alive than I had getting to know her.

To my surprise my abrupt answer didn't cause Miriam to go quiet or be hurt.

She slapped my back lightly instead.

"Let's try a tit-for-tat,” Miriam said. “I'll tell you a bit about me, and you tell me a bit about you.”

“Really?” I said. “This isn't really the time or place.”

"I’m your senior at the company, and experience tells me that this is exactly the time for a team building exercise. We might not get another chance to learn about each other or build up trust. And yes, I do have a family,” Miriam said. “My dad is overseas and if I'm being honest his wife is part of my family too. She always annoyed me, but that just comes with the territory, you know what I'm saying?”

I saw sweat dripping down Miriam’s neck as she spoke, and I straightened my back against the wall. She wasn't as calm as she was pretending to be. But she hid it the best she could.

"He told me working here would lead me to an early death, but I don't think this is what he meant,” Miriam said. “I swear my dad spends every second of his time crying about me ditching the countryside for toxic cars and pollution.”

Her words drew me in. It wasn't the content, or the way she said them. An ordinary conversation seemed insane in this situation, but it was helping me take my mind off everything else. My nerves were stretched to their limits and her words were helping me feel normal again.

I could see that she needed to talk, but more than that I needed to listen, and to have something take my mind off the horrors I'd witnessed upstairs. A person had been burned alive in front of me. That wasn't something that would go away any time soon.

Miriam paused to take a breath and glanced at me. I knew what she was thinking. It was my turn to talk about myself.

“I hate hypnotism,” I said.

Miriam's head perked up at my words. I don't think she'd been expecting me to respond. There was curiosity in her eyes, and for a brief instance I saw an office girl with no horrifying destruction weighing on her mind.

“I’ve hated it since I was a kid, but I have no idea why. Heck, I didn't get hypnotized when I was young, and I never had a trauma related to it,” I said. “I always thought it had something to do with me being scared of control. Or rather, losing it.”

"I get that." Miriam said.

She took the strand of brown hair behind her ear and reached out and gripped her knees with her hands. Her eyes darted from the entrance to the stairs.

“You say heck a lot,” she said.

“You're hecking right, I do,” I said.

Miriam stared at me, and I saw a smile tug at the edges of her lips.

“Heck yeah,” I added.

“Ha,” she let out a dry sigh. “I think we would have been good co-workers. It might be the stress talking, but I probably would've made you my work husband. I've been wanting one of those for ages.”

I pushed my chin up with my hand and gave her a sideways glance. The helmet only made it easier to exaggerate my movements.

“A work wife? At my age? I'll have you know that I've still got a lot to live for. I can't be getting tied down like that,” I said.

Miriam punched my shoulder plate lightly.

“You ass. You'd be lucky to have a work wife like me,” she said.

“I believe you, Miriam” I said.

A strange sound echoed out across the stairway, and it took me a second to realize that I was laughing. Miriam smiled beside me and shook her head.

“Miriam makes me sound like an eighty-year-old woman,” she said. “Call me Mir.”

“Okay, Mir.”

We paused and fell into a comfortable silence. I knew we had a moment here. A chance to relax and forget the troubles that the world had thrown at us. But even if I was willing to rest when it was necessary, I was still a man of action.

So, I asked the question that wouldn't leave my mind.

"How did Glenda turn into that thing?" I asked.

Miriam’s laughter died down. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Finally, she pressed her lips together.

"She grabbed two cards instead of one," Miriam said. “A yellow one, and a blue one.”

The image of the three cards that had appeared in front of me was clear as day. The idea that picking two of them could've turned me into something like Glenda was horrifying. However, I'd passed that hurdle without even realizing it.

Instead, I focused on the information that was relevant.

"Yellow?” I asked.

I hadn't seen any yellow cards in my options.

"Magic. That's what the blue boxes called it,” she said. “I know because I picked a yellow card too.”

Miriam raised her hand and a small flame appeared in the air above it. The stairway was bathed in a reddish glow, but I couldn't feel any heat. Which was a good thing, because the flame was close enough to her skin to cause serious damage.

"I wasn't just resting my legs," she said. “Apparently this thing takes a few minutes to recharge. I don't want to call it a spell. After all, magic is something that kids believe in. Not me."

"If you ask me, that looks a lot like magic," I said.

Miriam clenched her fingers together and the flame disappeared.

“You didn't strike me as the magic type,” she said.

“I'm not, but my sister likes Harry Potter.”

There was a shift in the mood as I spoke, and I knew that it was time for us to head off. The calm was gone, and the tension was back. Miriam could tell as well, and we pushed ourselves up off the ground. By the time I straightened my back I was back to watching out for signs of possible danger.

I also felt completely refreshed.

My mind had benefited from our chat more than my body. The skyscraper hadn't collapsed around us, and I couldn't hear any more creaking. But that meant little when we were isolated inside the stairwell.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “But I can walk.”

Miriam brushed off her skirt and placed a hand on my arm to help guide me down the stairs. Despite my misgivings, it wasn't that much slower than walking normally. I couldn’t sprint down the stairs, but I would still make good time.

We reached the thirty eighth floor and I eyed the door warily.

A quick peek couldn't hurt, right? If there were more people inside, then they might need help.

“We can't.” Miriam’s voice crashed through my thoughts. "If there's something out there then we might not come out as easily as we did with Glenda. The message said we'd only be healed once.”

She was right.

The sound of my steps crashed against my ears as I turned away from the door. Then I paused.

It wasn't just my steps that I was hearing.

The door to the thirty eighth floor was rattling as something banged against it, the sounds echoing across the stairway. I swung my hands up just as the banging grew to a crescendo.

Then the door blew open in a haze of purple light. It washed over the walls and bathed me in its glory. Somehow, it tasted like liquorice.

"Holy crap," Miriam shouted.

A man burst through the door, coughing and wheezing. He had a loose bright red tie clinging to his throat and his blonde hair was mixed with chalky white dust.

"I know you,” he said.

His bright blue eyes blinked in surprise, and I reciprocated. Underneath the dust was a familiar figure. This was the man that I would've called my boss if the day hadn't gone to crap.

It was Harold Till.

Harold pushed his hands against my body, and he whispered a single word into my ear.

“Run.”