I started and sat upright in our shared bed. Cold sweat matted my hair and a drop ran down my back. An attempt to wipe my face clean ended up waving my stump around instead. Fuck, it felt like my arm was on fire - phantom pain.

Jen had enough. “This is the third time already Gabe, we’re doing this. I’m cashing in the rain check, right here, right now.”

She got up and breached the miniature barrel, gifted to us by Barry and Jeb. ‘So you’ll still let him hang out with us,’ they’d said. It had G-heart-J scratched on the side. A sword pierced the heart instead of an arrow. It poked a bit of fun and told me a good job for staying alive. Next, she removed a few plastic cups off the stack we kept and poured both of them to the brim.

“Looks like I’m not getting any sleep anyway, so might as well.” I downed a mouthful. “I’m not any good at this though. Honestly? I feel mostly fine, it’s just the nightmares.”

Concern mixed with consideration, clouding her usual brightness. “I like the tough-guy act, I really do. But you don’t need to always keep at it. If everything stays bottled up you’re going to explode eventually.”

“I get where you’re coming from, but it doesn’t feel like that for me. Maybe. I think the thing is… it reminded me of the Godstrike, I saw it happen. I’d been smoking and stargazing at the time. Felt the explosion sear my eyes. The double overcharge at the end… It was like the same thing happened again.”

“Gabe, think for a bit. Are you sure that’s what this is? Because you killed someone, hell, you killed several. They might’ve been enemies, but they were still people.”

It… didn’t bother me - no clue why, not really. Another drink punctuated my lack of clarity. She deserved my best guess at the very least. “I don’t think so… I mean, I don’t think I feel guilty. It’s messed up I know. It’s just the way the games are set up, right? If it’s them or me, then picking ‘me’ isn’t wrong. Fuck ‘em.”

“Well, you’re going to have to open up about something or we won’t get anywhere. How was the rush?” Our last talk was about my addiction, had to explain away my seemingly suicidal tendencies, like jumping off the cliff. She finished hers and refilled us both.

“Different this time. It was intense - really intense. More like total concentration, flow I guess, clean almost. It keeps changing. It’s weird. I can’t really say for sure yet, but it feels like I’m maybe good for a long while?”

She brushed my cheek ever so gently. “I’m worried. You see there’s a pattern right? The more reckless you get, the better you feel. It’s going to get you killed. It might get someone else killed.”

The fucking pain, now my feet were being electrocuted – arm wasn’t any better either. I rubbed my stumps for a bit. “I know, but I don’t know what to do about it. Don’t suppose you know how to make anti-anxiety meds?” She chuckled.

“I wish, I’d be rich. Well, we’re rich anyway, I guess. I’m not going to let you change the subject by the way.” We paused for drinks again. I scratched my head and struggled to find something meaningful to say.

“There was one thing, it was at the end. It reminded me of the beginning. Felt like I was high as a kite, but sober. Didn’t feel my body at all, it was pretty nice, anyway – it felt like something was coming to a head, in my head.”

I lost myself for a moment in her eyes, and then continued. “I could feel myself repressing stuff, like I had a neat little box in the back of my brain to put the trauma. It worked too, calmed me down. But now… It’s gone. I remember thinking it would explode soon, so the same thing you’re worried about, I guess. Was it the same for you, during the interface tour, I mean?”

She considered for a moment, and then shook her head. “Nope, not like that. I was calm for a while, confident even. But started freaking out soon after, lashing out. Almost walked into a vinesnap because I couldn’t keep it together. Maybe you should ask around?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. Not really my style but I can give a little for your peace of mind. It’s also starting to bother me a bit. The contrast was loud y’know? Like a storm brewing and then suddenly boom, clear skies. Honestly, that’s been happening a lot. Putting away the unease in favor of focusing on what’s in front of me has been mostly effortless.”

She sighed. “It’s not supposed to work like that. I know a little and when people put stuff away, they rationalize… Make up reasons and stuff. They’re not supposed to just think ‘nah’ and done.”

“You think the System is fucking with our heads? I mean beyond the obvious.”

“Maybe..? Could be the Errant too. But there are no brainwashing skills or anything. Only the ‘hubris’.” She sighed again. “But I don’t think so. It doesn’t make any sense, right? What would be the point, make you fight like a mad dog so you can die from doing something stupid? And why you? No, I don’t think so.”

“Then what? I’m kind of out of ideas here, and I’m trying.” Goddamnit, my fucking arm again. I rubbed the stub. Jen looked at me with pity, or maybe empathy. Probably the last.

She reached across and grabbed my remaining hand, squeezing it. “I know Gabe, I know. But I’m glad you tried.” She smiled, forced. “It’s just another mystery, right? We’ll figure it out. Shit.” She’d knocked over her precariously balanced drink while shuffling closer. “Well whatever, I can just not feel it…”

I saw her intuition leap, and then fall off a cliff. “If only, I don’t think it works the same. No mind stuff, right?” I sucked my teeth. “Okay, now this is starting to annoy me.” She joined me in finishing a drink. We had some water next.

Now she smiled for real. “Well, they say the first step is to admit you have a problem.” The irony was palpable as she grabbed my pipe and lit up. “It’s progress, I guess.”

I motioned for her to pass it to the left. “Just don’t expect me to start believing in God, dude’s abusive. Terrible temper, really.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You have a history with that?”

“Nah, not really. Absentee dad, but it wasn’t his choice, or anyone else’s. Brain injury when I was still a kid. Spent a few weeks in a coma, and then woke up but he wasn’t the same. Lost most of his memories, couldn’t get new ones either. Broke my heart at the time. A bit before the end he deteriorated, I was supposed to come in to pay my respects but never got around to it since, y’know.” I waved my stump again, for fuck’s sake. I swept a curve of smoke to indicate our surroundings with my other arm but the timing made it weird.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“Sorry to hear it. You think he might be better now? Jeb had MS and he’s fine, it’s completely gone. Maybe your dad is the same?”

“Could be. I hope so but for his sake. It’s been so long, I don’t really miss him anymore. It’s like he’s just someone I used to know.” Background noises steadily picked up, people moving about.

“Well, yeah, I get it, I guess. What a sad shitty talk this turned out to be.”

“You’re just pissed because it’s about to be time for bootcamp. Probably shouldn’t have had those drinks. You nervous?” Obviously she was.

“No shit I’m nervous. But I’ll manage. There’s no way around it right? Can’t get stuck this early, feeling safe is the real danger and all.” We really needed to swap the sleeping sides for a while, I couldn’t comfort her. It made me feel strangely inadequate, apparently something got through to me despite a lack of any resolutions.

“Well I’d say that I’ll cheer you on every step of the way, but I’m fading fast again.” Recovery comas were a bitch. I’d be sleeping for half the day if the carted were anything to go by. I’d start nodding away soon.

“It’s okay, just focus on getting better.” She pecked me and got up. “Besides, maybe I can catch up to you now. Kick your ass for a change.” I’d been giving her pointers since her new fighting style was pretty close to boxing. Some advice was useful, some was not. She learned fast, then again – everyone did, probably something to do with lives being on the line.

“Yes, ma’am.” I gave her a sloppy salute. “Heal myself or die trying, understood.” I laughed.

“You better, or I’ll kill you.” She did too.

I passed out soon after, something had gone right since no more interruptions were forthcoming. Maybe talking about feelings wasn’t so bad after all. Alas, bed rest wasn’t what it used to be. The lack of entertainment chafed especially, but a close equivalent to TV took place outside. It was an action flick too, my favorite – the sounds of fighting penetrated even here. Might as well move around a bit.

Being a cripple fucking sucked, it really did a number on my mood.

An awkward shuffle brought me to the edge of the bed. Two controlled swords prepared a makeshift seat. Only superhuman power-to-weight ratios made a one-armed pull-up possible. Someone with System masonry helpfully modified a handhold upon my return, probably at Jen’s request. The blades carried my weight easily while a third formed a backrest. Up and down. Sourceless pain accompanied the gathering of my strewn about clothes. Now for the hard part, getting dressed.

Once done, I double dipped on summoned food because if getting dressed was overly complicated, preparing food turned into a nonstarter. Floating through the green and white hallways wasn’t much better, every turn threatened to pitch me off my precarious seating, forcing a return to pre-Godstrike speeds. Well, that wouldn’t be a problem tomorrow since we’d be moving out to temporary barracks for a month and a bit. HQ was getting remodeled. Unfortunately the plan wasn’t to make it nicer.

Instead, it would become something of a playground for hallway games. I wasn’t up to date on the details, but the idea was to simulate navigating the coliseum. The nerds had cooked up a bunch of rules to make it work and the malleability of our chosen construction material allowed for rapid refits, due tonight.

Three things greeted me outside. Sunlight, sounds of battle and a waving Barry – who was immediately sent flying by a right cross from a glowing Jill. She didn’t get out of it unscathed. A trio of micro bombs left her fist smoking, shrugged off with only a single stabilizing step back.

Upon closer inspection, this and no doubt similar impacts mangled her hand, like it had been burned and then cracked in a vice. Not that she cared. Most people sported various wounds, but unless you had the mending cantrip you’d be shit out of luck. Healing only happened at the end of the training day. They got back to it.

I wanted a nice chair with some popcorn on a table beside it but settled for some runescribing practice and a floor-seat against the compound wall. What used to be a serene grassy field had transformed into a mishmash of mud tracks, scorch marks and small craters. Everyone sparred. The only exceptions were me and Elias, who supervised.

He went around, gave tips, and pointed out idiocies. Dude had a good eye for such things. I was warming up to the guy, he’d not only kept his word but also taken my advice to stop saying messed up shit. For the most part at least, he still remained as unapologetic as ever but apparently pretending to fit in wasn’t as bad as it used to be. We also didn’t press him on the matter.

He walked up to me after finishing his rounds. As usual, he maintained a perfect poker face while speaking. “I read your accounting of the games.”

Lack of empathy was one thing, but I hadn’t realized it came paired with a disregard for privacy. “Did you, now? Any takeaways?”

He leaned against the wall. “Reckless, at the end.” Christ dude, if you’re going to start a conversation at least put some effort into it.

“Well thanks, I’ll be sure to work your feedback into my fighting. You go, girl!” Jen landed a gut shot after finally closing on Mel, doubling her over. She didn’t actually hear me over the chaos. It’s the thought that counts.

“As if you would listen. Regardless, it is not what I wanted to talk about. Freeport is in uproar. I was listening this morning.”

His sensory shenanigans suited spy-work particularly well. When he originally called it a trick of his ability, he meant a skill. The censorship committee gave up entirely not too long ago, for reasons unknown. At first, I thought it a quirk of ascendance, but everyone benefitted from the uplifted ban on free speech. Regardless, the rarity of his class added to the ignorance. Bruisers weren’t common at all, suffering an exceptionally poor survival rate for some reason. No clue why either, the man was a beast.

“Oh? Anything interesting?”

“You could say so. Could you describe the peacock you mentioned in the report, with more detail?”

Well, shit. I see where this is going. Once he finished listening to my recollection, a sign of emotion crossed his face - a slight frown and furrowed brows. First time for everything. Worse yet, it was contagious.

I was tired of being kept in suspense. “So, out with it. What’s happening? We got company?”

He sighed. The world must be ending, again. “Contact has been made with another settlement far to the east. Not entirely accurate, a refugee made contact with Freeport.”

“Let me guess, bird-people? Pffff.” My snort interrupted our conversation. Quiet Carlos bullied Jeb, tied him down ten different ways after the craftsman extraordinaire took a single step. He rolled and writhed while the former watchtower guard teasingly offered him a hand.

Elias waited patiently for me to finish slapping my thigh. “No, there are three human cities in relatively close proximity there.” The fact he made the distinction was telling. “But even further east, past them, yes - and a different species to their south.”

The System could suck a dick. What the hell was this about? Reconstituting our planet was one thing but repopulating it quite another. “Anything else?”

“Oh yes, they arrived shortly after the eclipse.”

“Well, that just raises more questions than it answers. Hah, serves him right.” Kim clutched his knee. A speed fighter with a sense of style had smacked it with a metal stick, one out of two. I would’ve paid a lot of crystal to hear the cursing.

“There is more. The southern species, clearbloods they call them, are pacifists. Some bandits saw opportunity to take advantage. They were defeated, but not killed. Fifteen men, of which three Ascendant, and all humiliated by a child. A holy one, supposedly.”

“No shit? Some kind of prodigy?”

“That is the interesting part. It did not use System powers, the so called bandits claim. Quite intriguing, no? Especially considering how the rumors stress their ability to determine such a fact.” Ah, the kind of well-organized bandits which came back and made reports – they probably earned salaries too.

I felt the beginnings of a headache, a long one. “Well, shit. At least they’re peaceful, for now at least. What about the feathered folk?”

“Decidedly not. An altercation occurred. Apparently, they do not consider humanity a threat anymore since. No wonder, with how merely one of them defeated a, and I quote, ‘battle group’.”

“These refugees are surprisingly well-informed.”

“I concur. What do you make of these events?”

I swept my gaze over the field full of previously peaceful people learning how to fight, preparing to kill. All for the sake of power. The System warned us about the dangers, but it had been focused on the Errant. As usual, it neglected to mention important details. “We’ll see.”

“Indeed.” Satisfied with my promise, he walked off towards Jill. She’d so far failed to avoid the backlash and paid the price for every hit she landed. My arm acted up again.

Just what we need, more bullshit.