Angelus leaned against the kitchen counter, still catching his breath from the chaos of the troll fight. The apartment looked like a tornado had hit it—couch cushions shredded, a suspiciously goblin-shaped dent in the drywall—but they’d survived. Lily sat cross-legged on the floor, clutching a throw pillow like a shield, while Marcus paced near the window, twirling his pipe like he was auditioning for a detective movie.
Sticky the goblin—named for his knack for grabbing anything not nailed down—was elbow-deep in the fridge, pulling out a jar of pickles and giving it a theatrical sniff. “No, Sticky! Drop it!” Angelus lunged, snatching the jar just as the goblin bared his jagged teeth in protest.
“Seriously, man,” Marcus said, smirking. “Your summons are one step away from staging a coup. Sticky’s already plotting to overthrow you for pickle rights.”
Angelus groaned, glancing at his stats scrawled in his mind’s eye like a video game HUD:
[Name: Angelus]
[Level: 4]
[Health: 80/100]
[Mana: 30/50]
[Strength: 6]
[Agility: 5]
[Intelligence: 7]
[Class: Legion Master]
[Skills: Raise Summon, Power Strike]
[Summons: 2 (Goblin, Troll)]
Trolly the troll hulked in the corner, scratching his lumpy head with a fist the size of a toaster, staring at the ceiling fan like it might attack. “At least he’s not smashing stuff,” Angelus muttered. “Yet.”
Lily peeked through the blinds, her voice barely above a whisper. “There’s more out there. I heard howling.”
Angelus straightened, shoving down his nerves. “We can’t stay here. The university library’s our best bet—big, sturdy, probably has other people holed up. We can make it.”
Marcus nodded, tapping his pipe against his palm. “Beats waiting for the HOA to fine us for harboring unregistered monsters.”
“Alright, let’s go,” Angelus said, slinging a backpack over his shoulder and cramming it with granola bars and a flashlight. “Sticky, Trolly, stay close. And Sticky—no stealing!”
The goblin stuffed a pickle into his ragged pocket, flashing a grin that promised nothing good.
New Haven was a nightmare—cars flipped like toys, smoke spiraling from busted storefronts, and eerie roars bouncing off the high-rises. Angelus took point, pipe gripped tight, with Sticky and Trolly shambling behind. Lily stuck close, clutching his sleeve, while Marcus brought up the rear, muttering about needing a survival blog.
They’d barely cleared two blocks when a guttural howl ripped through the air. Three dire wolves—[Dire Wolf: 80/80 HP]—slunk out of an alley, their fur streaked with soot, eyes blazing like embers. “Uh, guys?” Marcus said, pipe raised. “These pups don’t look friendly.”
“Attack!” Angelus barked, but his summons froze. Trolly blinked dumbly, and Sticky chucked a pebble that sailed wide, pinging off a stop sign.
“Great teamwork,” Marcus deadpanned as a wolf lunged. Angelus swung his pipe—[Dire Wolf: 70/80 HP]—and the beast yelped, skidding back. Trolly finally lumbered into action, slamming his club down—[Dire Wolf: 60/80 HP]—but the wolf dodged, snapping at his leg—[Troll Summon: 180/200 HP].
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Sticky, meanwhile, leapt onto another wolf’s back, clawing like a rabid gremlin—[Dire Wolf: 65/80 HP]. “Focus, Sticky!” Angelus shouted, landing a Power Strike—[Dire Wolf: 40/80 HP]—while Lily hurled a rock that bonked a wolf’s snout—[Dire Wolf: 69/80 HP].
“Nice one, Lil!” Angelus grinned, adrenaline surging. The wolf sneezed, dazed, and he seized the chance to finish it—[Dire Wolf: 0/80 HP].
A warm rush hit him:
[You have reached Level 5.]
[New Skill Unlocked: Legion Command – Issue basic commands to all summons simultaneously. Mana cost: 5 per use.]
“Legion Command: Target the left wolf!” he yelled, mana dipping to [Mana: 25/50]. Trolly and Sticky snapped to attention—Trolly’s club crushed the wolf’s flank—[Dire Wolf: 20/80 HP]—and Sticky’s claws finished it—[Dire Wolf: 0/80 HP]. The last wolf bolted, but Trolly chased it down, smashing it into the pavement—[Dire Wolf: 0/80 HP].
[You have defeated 3 Dire Wolves. Experience gained: 450.]
Angelus wiped sweat from his brow. “That’s how it’s done.”
Marcus clapped slowly. “Took you long enough to whip those clowns into shape.”
Sticky strutted over, brandishing a wolf tooth like a trophy. Trolly just stood there, panting and confused.
The university library rose ahead, its stone walls pocked from monster claws but intact. Barricades of desks and bookshelves guarded the doors, manned by a girl with a baseball bat—[Name: Tara, Level 4, Class: Brawler].
“Name and business!” she called, bat cocked.
“Angelus,” he replied, gesturing to his crew. “This is Lily, Marcus, and… my summons. We’re looking for safety.”
Tara squinted at Trolly. “Keep the big guy away from the rare books, and you’re good.”
Inside, the library buzzed with survivors—some nursing wounds, others clutching makeshift weapons. A scrawny guy with glasses—[Name: Ethan, Level 3, Class: Scribe]—scribbled furiously on a whiteboard covered in monster sketches and arrows.
“What’s the deal?” Angelus asked, approaching.
Ethan didn’t look up. “Rift opened yesterday. Monsters keep coming. Some of us awakened—like you, I’m guessing—but it’s a mess. Rift’s growing.”
Tara leaned on her bat. “We’re holding for now, but we need to shut that thing down.”
A notification flared:
[Quest: Investigate the Rift. Gather information from survivors. Reward: 500 XP, Unlock Rift-Related Skills. Progress: 0/3 Conversations]
Angelus sighed. “Guess I’m on intel duty.”
He spent the next hour weaving through the library, chatting up survivors. One guy swore the rift pulsed at night; a woman claimed she’d seen a glowing figure near it. Sticky, predictably, tried to swipe Ethan’s marker, earning a glare, while Trolly bumped his head on a chandelier.
After the third convo—[Quest Progress: 3/3]—the notification pinged:
[Quest Complete: Investigate the Rift.]
[Reward: 500 XP, New Skill Unlocked: Rift Sense – Detect rift energy within 50 meters. Mana cost: 3 per use.]
Angelus focused, feeling a faint pull toward the east window—where the rift’s purple glow stained the horizon. “Like a cosmic compass,” he muttered.
Lily tugged his arm. “Can we rename the troll? Trolly’s boring.”
He chuckled. “Sure, what’s your pick?”
“Mr. Smashypants!” she beamed.
The troll—now Mr. Smashypants—grunted, maybe amused, maybe indifferent.
Tara smirked. “Kid’s got a gift. Hold onto her.”
Marcus flopped onto a chair, pipe dangling. “So, Legion Master, what’s the play?”
Angelus stared at the rift’s distant shimmer. “We figure it out—level up, get stronger, maybe save the city.”
“Or at least the snack stash,” Marcus quipped, tossing him a granola bar.
With Sticky the klepto and Mr. Smashypants the bewildered at his side, Angelus felt a spark of hope. The Legion Master gig was wild, but he was starting to like it.