Hiro felt stupid as soon as he asked the merchant if she took credit cards, especially with the way she scowled at him.

His phone buzzed before Penny could answer. Her heavily mascara’d eyes darted to his front pocket. “Are you going to get that?”

He hesitated.

“Well?” she asked, annoyance in her voice.

Hiro took out his phone and read the message.

“What if I rob a bank?” Hiro asked. There was bound to be a bank nearby, and he could possibly use one of his powers to get the vault open.

Hiro started to tell his Companion that merchant had just said she would accept any currency. Instead, he sent his phone back into his pocket, followed by his wallet.

“I suppose I’ll have to come back later.”

“Yes, I suppose,” Penny said. “Do you know where to find me?”

Hiro set a {Beacon.} “I do now.”

“Good luck, Survivor. And if you can, come back rich. My brother and sister merchants don’t have the same wares as me.”

“Am I allowed to see what you have?”

Penny slowly shook her head. “Aside from vape pen cartridges, and perhaps things you can affix to items you may receive later, I specialize in a unique set of powers based on human internet culture. That’s all I’ll tell you, for now. Visit later and see for yourself.”

****

Human internet culture, Hiro thought of what the merchant had told him as he took to the rooftops again and concluded that it could mean anything, really. If the Doom System hadn’t been the downfall of humanity, the Internet would have certainly taken a swing at it in the years to come.

Hiro was now high enough above the streets that he could get a sweeping view of Madison Avenue, a once expansive boulevard now riddled in craters and portions of the road that had collapsed into the subway system.

He had seen it before. Hiro had traveled directly beneath it, including through some of the subway lines that had rubble from the street level in them. Yet his current view—

“What’s that?” Hiro whispered as he peered ahead to see a line of people wrapping around a block. Impossible.

He had seen something like this before the Doom System came. Fashion brands often used these events to offload products or create hype for a new launch. They would rent out a place, make it look exclusive, and get people lined up outside, which drew further attention. The last time Hiro had seen a line this long had been at one of the food banks set up after the gate gave everyone powers.

It could be a trap, he thought as he perched on the edge of a building near an American flag that had seen better days.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

There was still no clue as to what the people were lining up for. The entrance was obscured by a thick red curtain, and the windows were boarded up. Yet they were definitely people standing there, at least Hiro thought this was the case until a man joined at the back of the line.

The man wore a black trench coat and a matching black bucket hat. He was shirtless beneath the trench coat, and as he turned in Hiro’s direction, it was clear that the Survivor didn’t have pants on either. Instead, he wore a pair of boxer briefs and crocs, no socks.

He leaned forward to speak to the person in front of him, and as he did, the man passed right through the person.

The Survivor stumbled, got his bearings, and passed through more of the people that had lined up for the sample sale.

“I’m going in,” Hiro said, even though there was no one around to actually hear him.

He placed his hand on the hilt of his blade and bounced to the streets below.

The Survivor, who had continued passing people in line, immediately turned to Hiro.

“I’m not the main character,” Hiro said in lieu of a greeting.

Now that he was at ground level, Hiro saw that the man had a thick beard that he had pulled into a point. He wore a pair of red sunglasses more appropriate for the beach than the post-apocalyptic cityscape. He also had a flowery fanny pack.

“Yeah?” the man in an Australian accent. “I’m not the main character either. You want to put your sword away, mate?”

“Not really,” Hiro said.

The man shrugged. “Funny mask you got on there.”

“It’s listed as a Roulette Accessory.”

“Same as my glasses.” The man ran his hand through one of the people in line in front of him. “Pretty strange, innit?”

“Do you know what they’re lined up for?”

“I do not. But there’s a way to find out.” He nodded to the front of the line. “Care to join me? I’m Samuel, by the way.”

“Samuel. I’m Hiro.”

“Hiro. Nice to meet you, mate. Don’t know if people are still saying that these days, but it’s nice to see an actual person. Met a few of them, some crazier than others.”

“Same.” Hiro slid his katana back into its sheath. He placed a hand in his pocket instead, where he gripped his Buster Kunai.

“Apparently, the bloody Doom System wanted us to see this. I don’t know why, but these people looked bloody real from a block away.” Samuel leaned in, observing a woman with her hair in a bun. He stepped through her. “Oi,” he called to the people in front of him, “if any of you are Survivors, let me know. Otherwise, I’m going to run into you.”

Once he didn’t get a response, Samuel ran to the front of the line, passing through a dozen people in the process.

Hiro caught up with him, the two now standing in front of the curtain. “Well, what do you think?”

“I was going to ask you the same question. Curiosity killed the cat, but by this point, that cat has been dead for a while, I reckon. I’d say something like fortune favors the bold, but that’s what mad men tell themselves before they commit atrocities. It’s definitely bait, whatever this is.” Samuel pointed at the red curtain. “Bloody Doom System. Question for us is whether we want to take it or not.”

[Hello, Survivors.]

“Ah, shit, here we go,” Samuel said. Strangely, he didn’t produce a weapon like Hiro did, who instantly drew his katana.

[You have discovered a Doom Sample Sale. Inside, you will be challenged by a Revenant through a unique set of battle rules. If you survive, you will be given additional access to the Doom System, your current follower count will double, your weapon proficiency will be automatically upgraded, and you will be given enough SE to move to the next level. Terms and conditions apply.]

The Doom System’s voice changed and accelerated, rattling off terms and conditions like the rapid-fire side effect warnings at the end of a medicine commercial:

[By entering the Doom Sample Sale you acknowledge the following: For every minute that passes within a Doom Sample Sale, the Sentry gains ten percent strength. Your current health will be quantized and converted into HP. You will be given MP as a multiplier of your MIND stat. One Hit Wonder skills are not accessible in a Doom Sample Sale. Roulette Skills will not be burdened by their normal cool-down times. Your likeness may be used for future Doom System Sample Sales. The cost of entry into a Doom Sample Sale is your life. Win, and your life is given back to you. Lose, and your life will be retained by the Doom System, your corpse subject to reuse in the Second Interim.]

Samuel turned back to Hiro, an uncertain look on his face. “Well, what do you think, mate? Do we give it a go? Do we see what’s behind the red curtain?”

Hiro didn’t skip a beat. “Let’s do it.”

Samuel steeled himself with a deep breath in. “Fuckin’ hell.”