Reid wiped blood off of his knife blade and slowly turned his head to take in the new coyotes. There were 25 now, all closing in with snarls and growls. They carefully stepped around their downed packmates even as their eyes never left Reid. This encounter had gone from a done deal to... problematic.

The last bite that Reid let through had done enough damage to his leg that he was wincing every time he repositioned it. His sock was wet from the blood soaking into it. But more importantly, he was starting to feel a bit winded.

Most people didn't understand that one of the biggest issues with getting into a fight, any fight, was how quickly you'd run out of steam. Keeping yourself tense, throwing all your strength into a few blows - it didn't matter whether it was against a drunk driver that killed your parents, or a pack of coyotes in the woods. Fighting full out for more than a minute or two was damn tough for any person. Reid was still athletic, even now. A schedule of office softball and rec league soccer had seen to that. But he'd been jumping around to reposition himself, and flinging the knife around with all he could handle.

His musings were interrupted by a trio of the new arrivals rushing in to nip at him. Reid was about to swing low when the first jumped up, mouth open. In a regrettable automatic motion, Reid lifted his left arm to meet its open jaws.

The coyote sunk its teeth into his arm, enough to draw blood and try to pull him over before he was able to swing his blade around and catch it in the side. It kept going, and Reid had to put two more stabs into it before it let go. Meanwhile, the other two attackers had gone for his legs, and Reid's thighs burned as he tried to keep himself from being yanked into doing a split. Thankfully, neither of them had actually gotten his legs themselves. One point for baggy pants.

His next swings wounded one of the pant-biters before it released him and retreated. The other went with it before Reid had time to turn and stab at it.

Reid wiped his arm on his shirt as he tried to catch his breath. New blood welled from the puncture wounds and prevented him from seeing just how much damage had been done to his arm. If he had time, he could pull a first aid kit out of his pack and - wait. Oh crap. He'd handed his pack off to Susan when he went to the outhouse, and hadn't taken it back before he was transported to the white room. He didn't have his water, or his poncho, or any of his granola bars. Or the first aid kit. Or his phone.

That last part might not mean much. Phones never worked in post-apocalyptic games, right? And even if they did, the cell towers were probably overloaded with traffic that wouldn't get through. And there was no way GPS still worked, right? Not if the Earth was changed like the forest around him. But he could really use some of his other supplies. If the wounds on his leg and arm got infected, he'd be-

REID. Focus. You are in the middle of a fight, where you are putting on a rather poor showing. Finish up here, and get to a beacon, and everything will be fine.

"Enough about the beacon." Reid tried to take a step forward, but his left leg caught and was pulled out from under him by two of the coyotes. Reid went to a knee, and a flurry of fur and teeth closed in. White hot pain bloomed across his back, and he swung wild with the knife. For a moment, it almost seemed like it was working. Then, his other leg was pulled back, and Reid fell face-first to the forest floor.

Teeth tore into him from every side. The pain was everywhere now, overwhelming and dull at the same time. He could smell moss, dirt, and pine needles. One of his ears was ripped off. The forest floor was soft against his stomach. He lost his pinky and ring fingers to the jaws. Something was yelling inside his head. Reid tried to lift himself up with his right arm, but jaws pulled it away again. His toes curled inside his boots. One sock was wet. His right sleeve was tearing at the shoulder. shirt buttons were straining under his stomach and dug into him. It was less comfortable than the forest floor. Something rooted deep within him stirred. The spots of light filtered through the canopy high overhead were warm. Jaws sunk into the back of Reid's neck.

#

You are hopeless.

Reid saw the same room he'd been transported to earlier. He was standing uninjured at its center. A mote of swirling purple and orange floated around him.

Just because you HAVE system protection doesn't mean you can go around losing fights. Or picking fights. Really, you should just avoid fights. It's bad for your health and you suck at it.

The mote pulsed as the voice spoke. The swirls morphed and changed with each sentence, punctuating the words.

"Am I... Did I die?" Reid managed to get out. His neck felt stiff and he had trouble turning his head to look at the mote.

Reid. My buddy. Your ears should work in here. SYSTEM. PROTECTION. Come on. Gonna keep you ticking till you get to a beacon. Probably. But you've gotta snap out of this helpless idiot thing you've got going on.

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

"So, I'm safe? You healed me? If we're here... can I teleport back to Earth in a safer location?" Reid was still disoriented and stiff, but if he was healed - if he could get to a safer location - he could definitely make it to the beacon.

No teleports. You're still here on Earth, playing chew-toy for some of the weakest beasts in the forest. I guess I have to explain EVERYTHING for you, don't I?

The mote swelled to twice its size, then shrank as a low wind sound filled the room. Was that a sigh?

System protection doesn't mean you just don't get in trouble. It means we can expend some of the System's energy to try and help you out when things get tough, or you get in over your head. Right now, we're expending a bit of energy so we can have an accelerated conversation within your consciousness. To heal you completely, we'd expend about five times as much energy as we're using right now. But that just heals you. We'll stop you from bleeding out, but it's not going to make you any better at fighting. SO, we're going to do something approved by the collective, and help you out a different way, too. We're going to use just a bit of extra energy to give you partial access to one of your skills. Neat, right? Almost nobody gets to use skills before they reach a beacon. And we're giving it to you, with a bit of healing, so you can finish off this dumb easy fight and actually make progress here. AAAANNNNNNDDD done.

**Skill restriction altered - Strengthening [Basic] partially unlocked**

Reid blinked a few times at the notification. "What does that mean? I'm going to be stronger now?" There was no answer. Instead, a part of him that felt physical and ethereal at the same time warmed up, and a new screen filled his view.

Strengthening [Basic] (Partially Restricted)

Scales with Level. User's base power is increased. With diligent effort and practice, advanced practitioners can manually control the application of this skill.

Reid flexed his arm, and felt a strand of warmth reach out from his center to his bicep. It felt... good. Really good. He twisted his neck back and forth, the stiffness from earlier gone. His calves flexed as he rolled up onto the balls of his feet and back down.

"This is incredible."

You are welcome. Now, we're going to let realtime continue here, and you're going to beat up some coyotes. Sound good? Great. Don't screw up again.

#

The room was gone. Reid could smell moss and pine. He shoved hard against the forest floor to get on his knees - only to launch himself into the air. The coyotes weren't biting him when he woke up - or came back to reality? He wasn't sure. Whatever the case, they had backed off and were now keeping a bit of distance. Reid stumbled into a less-than-graceful landing, and brought his arms out in front of him. The knife was still in his right hand.

A coyote snarled and darted towards him. Its paws kicked up loose dirt and pine needles as it went. It was about to jump at him - but then went low. Reid saw the change and slashed down. This was neat. He hadn't been able to focus on the coyote's movements before. He could react now, and being able to see what was happening would give him an edge, especially if he could land more accurate blows.

Skin parted and bone snapped under the blade as the knife plunged into the top of the coyote's head.

Then, it kept going.

Bone scraped along his wrist and arm, and Reid found himself elbow-deep in a gaping hole that used to be the top of the coyote's head. One ear, still intact, twitched once before the kill notification popped up.

"Holy shit. Holy shit! HOLY SHIT!"

Reid had to brace his left hand against the broken skull just to yank out his right arm. What was left of his tattered shirt sleeve ripped off, stuck in the skull's splintered bone. The corpse of the coyote fell limp to the ground. Blood pooled by Reid's boots. He took a moment to look down at himself. His shirt was bloody, torn and frayed. Most of the buttons were missing, and his one remaining sleeve was missing its cuff. His watch and his ring were gone, but he could still see the lines where his skin texture gave away years of consistent wear. His pants, somehow, were still on him. The bottoms were tattered, but fabric still reached his boots, which were, thankfully, in the best shape out of anything he was wearing.

The corpse at his feet looked like someone had shot a cannonball through it. A single blow, an accurate blow, was all he needed.

Reid's hand went to his neck, then each ear. He was whole again, and strong. Stronger than any person should be. If this was only part of the skill, what would it be like after he reached the beacon and fully unlocked it?

But even now, right now, he had landed a blow through a beast. He wanted to know more. He wanted to see just what he was capable of. He shifted the knife into his left hand and made a fist.

"You." Reid looked up at the coyote directly in front of him. "Help me with a little test."

He flew forward, arm cocked at the coyote. It barely had time to flinch before Reid was on it, hand descending at its back. A sick, wet crunch sounded from the thing's spine as Reid's hand buried itself to his wrist. Instead of pulling it out, Reid opened his fingers and rooted around for anything that still felt solid. He grasped, and gore shot up his forearm as something popped inside the wound. This was good. Reid dropped the knife and brought his left hand over, braced his arms against each other, and pulled.

Tissue slowly ripped. A kill notification popped up and disappeared. Viscera poured onto the ground at Reid's feet as he tore the coyote in two with his bare hands.

Reid dropped the halves on the ground as a wicked grin spread across his face. Something in him simmered just below the surface.

A coyote howled, and Reid responded with a roar as he ran to the next target. This time, he kicked out as the beast turned to run. Its ribs snapped under the force of the blow as it sailed into a nearby tree. Reid was already turning and throwing a punch before the kill notification popped up. His blow glanced off the hindquarters of another coyote, and its rear end crumpled even as it tried to drag itself forward with its front legs.

The rest of the pack had been making more distance, but ran in to harass him when they saw their injured packmate crawling toward them.

Reid's heel crushed the first coyote that moved in. He managed to grab the second by the neck, and swung it hard at the others. One nearly snapped down on his leg, and he grabbed its jaws with both hands, and pulled. He smiled at the crunching sounds of breaking bone, then roared. These beasts had tried to kill him.

He was going to make them all regret it.