I crouched behind the overturned car, trying to catch my breath amidst the acrid smoke filling the air. Sirens wailed in the distance and the stench of spilled gasoline and blood turned my stomach. Gunfire crackled a few blocks away as panicked screams echoed down the ruined street.

When the world had gone to hell mere hours ago, I had been sitting at my computer, happily healing a Mythic+ dungeon in WoW. Then blue boxes had started popping up everywhere, the ground shook as explosions rocked the city, and horrific monsters had started pouring out of glowing portals appearing all over the neighborhood.

Just my luck. No good deed goes unpunished, as they say.

I peeked over the car's hood to survey the scene. Overturned vehicles belched black smoke. Storefronts had been smashed to pieces, their contents strewn across the pavement. A few pitiful survivors stumbled through the debris in a daze.

Suddenly, a huge reptilian creature burst out of a nearby manhole, its mottled green scales glistening with sewer water. Thick ropes of drool streamed between rows of jagged teeth as its eyes fixed on the nearest survivor - a woman in tattered office clothes. She screamed and scrambled backwards as the beast lunged for her with a guttural roar.

"Hey ugly! Pick on someone your own size!" I yelled, leaping up from behind the car.

At least, that's what I meant to yell. What came out was more along the lines of "uhhhHHhheeeyyyy..." as my voice cracked embarrassingly. Damn puberty, foiling my heroic one-liner.

Still, it got the monster's attention. It whirled to face me, greenish drool spattering the ground. I swallowed hard as I suddenly realized I had no actual plan for what to do next.

Then I remembered the shiny new "Skills" floating in my vision. I focused on one called "Holy Bolt" and felt a surge of energy through my body. All those years of hardcore WoW raiding had to count for something, right?

I thrust my hand forward and squinted my eyes shut. Please work please work please work...

"BOOSH!"

A blinding flash of white light exploded from my palm and struck the creature right between its beady eyes. It let out a pained shriek as holy energy crackled over its body. A second later, it toppled over backwards and lay still, smoke curling from its motionless form. A glowing text box appeared in the air:

[+50xp Sewer Lurker slain]

"Ha! Suck it, noob!" I crowed. "That's what you get for ganking lowbies on launch day!"

The woman on the ground stared at me with wide eyes before scrambling to her feet. "You...you saved me! Thank y—"

Her gratitude turned to a scream as a ghastly wail filled the air. I spun around just as a quartet of ghostly shapes rose from the ruined storefronts, trails of ectoplasm swirling behind them. Wraiths. Never a good sign.

I threw myself to the side as a shadowy claw swiped through the space where I had just been standing. Crap crap crap. My mana pool blinked red in my peripheral vision - apparently Holy Bolt had drained me dry.

As I scrambled for cover, an idea sprang to mind. I focused inward on the roiling core of life energy pulsing inside me, and projected it outwards.

[Holy Aura - All allies within 10m gain +10 HP/sec regeneration for 30s]

A soft golden glow enveloped me and the nearby survivors. The woman scrambling away from the wraiths suddenly steadied, her injuries visibly mending. Another man leaning against a storefront blinked in surprise as the gash on his forehead knitted itself shut.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Unfortunately, I had no such regeneration. As the lead wraith dove at me with an ear-splitting screech, I threw myself to the ground. Its claws raked across my back, tearing through my now useless button-up shirt. Searing pain shot up my spine and I screamed.

"Why...aren't...I...regenerating?!" I hissed as I dragged myself behind a concrete planter. A flashing red text box mocked me:

[Healers gain 50% reduced benefit from their own skills]

"Oh COME ON!" I whined as blood dribbled down my back. "Nerf heals more, why don't you? This is insa—"

Another wailing cry drowned out my complaints. Right, still about to die. I dragged myself to my feet, focusing on the golden glow around me. Only a few seconds left on the buff.

As two wraiths dove at me, trailing tattered shrouds of darkness, I thrust out my hand and focused. Blue energy gathered in my palm and burst forth in a cone of shimmering light.

[Mana Burn - 10 Mana. Deal 50 + Willpower magic damage and drain 10 Mana from target. If target has no Mana, stun for 2s]

Thank you, crappy off-spec abilities! The blast struck the wraiths head on. They shrieked as the magic seared their incorporeal forms...but kept coming. Mana Burn wasn't going to cut it. I needed a real damage spell.

Something. Anything.

A crazy idea sprang to mind and I went with it. I focused on the bleeding gashes across my back, gritted my teeth against the pain, and PULLED. Blood flowed out, swirling into a crimson sphere suspended above my hand.

[Blood magic skill created!

Sanguine Bolt - 20 HP. Deals 40 + Willpower magic damage. Converts HP to damage]

I screamed in agony as I shaped the blood into a crackling bolt of scarlet energy and hurled it at the nearest wraith. The sanguine missile struck true, punching clean through the specter's chest in a spray of ectoplasm. It let out a final wail and burst apart into motes of shadow.

[Wraith slain +100xp]

One down. Three to go. Black spots swam in my vision as I swayed unsteadily, my makeshift blood magic having drained my health to nothing.

The remaining wraiths circled like vultures, preparing to descend on their critically injured prey. I gathered the last dregs of my life force, ready to go down fighting—

"GET DOWN!"

I obeyed just a hail of bullets ripped through the air above my head. The wraiths shrieked as the glowing projectiles burst against their forms in flashes of argent light. I squinted against the barrage and made out a line of armored figures advancing down the ruined street, assault rifles blazing.

The wraiths withered under the magical fusillade, shredded into tattered strips of ectoplasm that dissolved on the breeze. As the figures approached, I saw they wore sleek black combat armor emblazoned with a silver cross over their hearts.

Paladins. I'd recognize that holy warrior vibe anywhere.

I shakily raised a hand in greeting as they approached...and promptly passed out.

When I awoke, I found myself lying on a cot in what appeared to be a repurposed office space. Cubicle walls had been knocked down to create an open barracks filled with bedrolls and wounded survivors. My bare chest was swaddled in bandages, and an IV line fed a glowing elixir into my arm.

As my eyes fluttered open, a stern-faced woman with close-cropped silver hair leaned over me. Her armor identified her as one of the paladins from the street.

"Report, healer," she said crisply. "I am Lieutenant Fairchild, Argent Crusaders, 4th Platoon. We're rounding up all the support classes we can find. You're drafted."

"Bwuh?" I mumbled dazedly, struggling to sit up. "Drafted for wha—"

"Cut the chatter, recruit. Only healers and paladins are waking up with their skills intact. We need your abilities on the frontline."

She thrust a bundle of white cloth into my arms - a healer's robe emblazoned with a golden caduceus on the chest.

"Congratulations, you work for the resistance now. We move out in five."

I goggled at her, trying to make sense of this whirlwind conscription. "Wait wait wait. I'm not a soldier! I'm just a WoW player! I sit in the back and spam heals and whine when people stand in bad! I can't—"

Fairchild grabbed me by the front of my new robes and yanked me to her face. Her gaze bored into mine, hard and flinty.

"Listen up, healer. The old world is dead and gone. You're part of the system now, like it or not. You can come with us and save lives, or stay here and end up as XP for the next pack of monsters that comes through. What's it gonna be?"

I stared into her utterly humorless eyes for a few moments before hanging my head with a sigh.

"Fine, I'm in," I grumbled as I pulled on the stupid robe. "But I better get a staff this time! You have no idea how much it sucks healing on progression content undergeared..."

Fairchild shoved me toward the door without a word. I followed her out into the hallway, pulling up my status screen as I went.

[[Status]]

Name: Jackson Hale

Level: 2

Class: Healer

HP: 80/80

MP: 60/60

Strength: 6

Dexterity: 8

Constitution: 10

Intelligence: 15

Wisdom: 12

Charisma: 11

Unspent Points: 1

Well...it wasn't a mythic raid geared Holy Priest. But it would have to do for now. At least until I could find a dungeon or two to run. I sighed as I jogged to catch up with Fairchild's squad.

I had a feeling it was going to be a very long apocalypse...