Doom and I clashed again and again. The pattern repeated itself in a cycle that could stretch into a futile eternity. I would outmaneuver the lumbering creature and shred its flesh, hacking chunks of meat free, scoring it with wounds that should have ended it. But nothing seemed to last. Every wound just melted away. For Doom’s part, the exercise was just as fruitless. Under POWER, I was simply too fast for it to be able to pin me down with a physical attack. The fire beams threatened me, and there were too many escapes that were too close to call.

As a column of fire walked behind me, scoring a long groove into the surface of the earth, I sprinted and dove over one of the jutting rocks that composed the entrance to Doom’s home. Panting, I strained to examine my HUD. The edges contained lots of little numbers and symbols that I had long learned to ignore. One of them must indicate my POWER reserve. I had had enough time to play with this feature that I felt foolish to be scrambling to identify it now, in the heat of battle.

I released POWER for a moment and saw one of the sets of digits suddenly pause. I watched the digits, grasped POWER again, and saw the numbers fall. Then I released the attribute, and the numbers rose again.

“Three?” I said to myself. “Three out of how many?”

Enki said, “Out of 21, you dolt; you get as many units of POWER as your overall level plus your POWER level.”

The three on my HUD ticked up to a four as I lay there, my back pressed against the cool earth. Doom was lumbering beyond; I could feel it and hear it, but it wasn’t coming for me with abandon. It sensed that I was a danger, which meant that it had some fear of something I could do to it. Which, in turn, meant there must be some way to really hurt or kill the thing. Maybe I had to cut its head all the way off, but that seemed like a feat that exceeded the level I possessed.

Enki said, “So what’s the end game here? Let’s assume for just one second that you can’t kill the thing. What’s it gonna take for you to quit on it?”

I growled, “I’ll kill it.”

Enki’s voice sounded like hands thrown in the air; its exasperation was complete. “What’s wrong with you, Tibs? I’m all for leveling and taking chances; that day against the Hordesmen was super fun, but this fiend is too far above you. You’re not hurting it. You know, I’ve never seen you back down from something—that’s a valuable skill too. You know, the good ol' tactical retreat. Live to fight another day. I really, really want you to live.”

I said, “Imagine how much it will grow me.”

Enki said, “Sure, sure, but only if you kill it.”

I crept to the corner of the protruding rock to see what Doom was doing. I ducked back instantly as heat energy blasted the point where I’d stuck my head out.

I said, “No, that’s not how it works.”

Enki drawled, “Oh, do tell me, the being that has lived an eternity in the suits, how they work.”

I frowned. The four ticked up to a five. “I got a level from fighting Perdinger, and I never killed him. I got a level from fighting Danefer, and I didn’t kill him either.”

Enki said, “Oh, alright, fair enough. Levels aren’t just from killing. The suit and your brain are entwined; leveling is kind of a positive reinforcement game, setting neural connections—you know, neurons that glow together grow together kind of thing.”

I did not know.

Enki said, “The suit-brain connection is rewarded, grows stronger, when you have successes. In combat, the most substantial way to succeed is to kill, but smaller victories can trigger an increase as well. When you basically won the fight against Perdinger, you grew. When you put Danefer on his ass, you grew. Nothing—and I mean nothing, kiddo, that you’re doing against Doom is succeeding at all.”

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A shadow fell over me. POWER had just ticked up to six as I grasped it and propelled myself away from where I lay. The huge paw of Doom smashed down onto the rocks, shattering them, showering me with dirt. I spun, and CUT glowed as I cut at the paw. Again, the same: blood and gobs of flesh flew in the air, Doom roared with pain, and then the wound started to mend. Its capacity for healing seemed inexhaustible.

Fire and lumbering but deadly paws lashed at me as I skirted around Doom. I was aware that I was moving away from cover, aware that my POWER was ticking down again as I moved.

I screamed in my mind. The frustration was overbearing. I had to kill it; I had to get to 20. Maybe Doom wouldn’t get me all the way there, but a fiend like this had to be worth a level or two.

Enki said, “You don’t have to get to level 20. It was a suggestion; you’re fixating. Step back and assess the situation, this is not a winner.”

Assess!

It seemed almost pointless, but equally, it cost me almost nothing. I reached for the skill, and information flashed on my HUD.

Subject: Doom

Status: Gut-reactor

Class: 10

“Jacob said it was a class 9! Class 10 means it’s more like a Level 20 fiend!”

Enki said, “Where’d you get that information? Assess works on Griidlords, not—”

I rolled in the dirt as a claw murdered the ground behind me.

I hissed urgently, “Don’t worry about that now! Fucking help me!”

Enki spoke quickly, “Well, fiends grow too. Doom is pretty old, so I guess the bastard leveled itself lately. This isn’t a great spot to be in, but…”

Fire exploded near me, the edge of the tight lance clipping me. The pain and heat were staggering, and I heard myself cry out.

Enki went on, “It’s a Gut-reactor; know what that means?”

I gargled in pain, rushing slice CUTs at any point I could find, desperate to hit something vital. Doom lumbered and turned its body, keeping its huge maw facing me.

Enki said, “It should be obvious enough, really. Where does it get the fire it’s blasting? I’d love to give you the full science class, but fiends have connections to Order and Entropy just like the suits do. Somewhere in this pretty little fella’s bowels is an organ that can use concentrated Entropy to cause matter itself to become undone. The energy that’s released is the source of the fire. It’s a little nuclear reactor, kind of.”

I hacked, I CUT, I pulsed SHIELD, fired BEAM—I did everything. On one level, it was remarkable and exciting to be standing alone against such a monster. It was a validation of everything I had become. I was a hero battling a dragon. But I was getting nowhere. POWER ticked down to three. Doom was between me and the cover. If POWER depleted, then I was done for. Even then, it never occurred to me to flee. I needed to reach 20. I needed to show them, I needed to do my part.

Enki said, “If you smash the organ, Doom will lose control of that concentrated Entropy field it’s using to go all Albert Einstein on matter’s ass.”

I roared, hearing Enki. I sprinted under Doom’s limbs, to where its huge, bulging torso dragged on the ground. CUT flashed again and again as I hacked. But nothing would get through. For every gaping wound I opened, the flesh reworked itself too quickly, the demon pressed too hard, turning and twisting, bringing those massive paws smashing at me, driving me back.

Enki said, “Look, it was a nice thought, but you’re just not ready.”

“No!” I roared. It was like a battle cry. POWER dropped to two.

I attacked again, frenzied, abandoning defense, putting it all into this one strike. Maybe I could cut faster than it could heal if I just committed to it, do or die.

Meat flew in the air as I sliced at its side, trying to burrow into the fiend’s body. Doom kept twisting its body away from me, retreating the wounded side. I kept chasing, following the rotation, cutting and cutting, maybe getting somewhere, maybe getting just slightly ahead of the healing rate, the wound widening.

Doom was old. Doom wasn’t stupid. It stopped retreating suddenly and shocked me. It snapped its huge body back toward me, where I was pressing with abandon. It struck me with the full force of its mass, like a gigantic boulder.

Suddenly I was on my ass, 10 yards from the mouth. POWER ticked down to one. Doom’s eyes glowed, and it opened that gigantic mouth, aiming at me. In a fraction of a second, nuclear fire would erupt from its maw to consume me. And escaping meant almost nothing now; I only had moments of POWER left. Any move to evade the attack would be almost pointless.

Once I ran out of POWER, the fight would be over.