Daughton walked away from the impromptu meeting with the little girl, musing.

He had heard the rumors of the strange girl with the orange eyes in their encampment of the city, of course. He had even sent a few men to check for her, attempting to have at least some record of the Changed and their new powers. But they had always come back empty-handed.

And yet now the girl approached him, pleading with him about the upcoming patrol of one of the units under his command.

Daughton was...intrigued. Patrols weren’t necessarily kept a secret, but they also weren’t common knowledge, either, and the girl’s casual knowledge, coupled with her serious, glowing eyes, made Daughton hesitate to dismiss her words as pure fantasy.

Of course, he couldn’t just accept her at face value, either. He had some investigating to do, as well as some slight modifications to make to tonight’s patrol route. It wouldn’t be exactly what the girl pleaded for, but it wouldn’t be too far off, either.

Daughton didn’t trust the little girl, and he didn’t trust all the new powers the Changed were displaying. In the same way the Numbers disappeared, these powers could go just as quickly. But Daughton trusted his gut.

And right now, after weeks without direction...Daughton’s gut was telling him he might have finally found a way forward.

- Sgt. Daughton, Inclusion +20 days 09:58 hours

We’ve spent the last four hours socializing with Ms. Kathy and the twins. At first, the discussion was constantly intense as she updated us with everything she could remember from the news and internet. But as the hours passed the conversation settled on less serious topics, games with the twins and stories from Melete’s childhood.

But despite enjoying the pleasant reprieve of a calm evening spent with friendly humans, it couldn’t last forever. Eventually the sky dimmed as the gentle rain abated, and Ms. Kathy cited the need to put the twins to bed, excusing herself amid the pleading voices of the children in question. To the kids' pleasure, Melete agreed to help them get ready, but returned less than fifteen minutes to join us in a semi-private discussion.

“We can’t stay here,” I say. The only reason Ms. Kathy had been staying was because of Melete’s mom, who had only stayed because of Melete. A big city humanity had largely abandoned is one of the worst places to try and survive post-inclusion. I’m not callous enough to make these points in front of Melete, though.

“We’re not leaving them,” Melete says, her voice firm. She stares at me with an almost feral look in her eye, as if daring me to challenge her.

“Of course not,” I quickly reply, hands raised in front of me in a calming gesture.

“Bring them with us?” Styx asks skeptically. “There’s no way they’ll be able to keep up, not at our current pace.”

I shrug. “Sure, it’ll be harder, but like Melete said, we can’t leave them behind. We have the skills and Numbers to protect them, at least against most of the monsters we’ve seen. Traveling with us is probably safer than any other option they have. And besides,” I glance guiltily at Melete before continuing, “Bothell, and the military that’s supposed to be there, is our next stop anyway. It’s likely where Pallas’ family went. After we check Styx’s house, of course,” I add when I see Styx about to interrupt.

“If there’s any government there, we might be able to get a formal treaty with the Alatir,” Pallas adds, looking at Sam crouched hidden in a corner of the room.

That’s a good point. Since Sam decided to travel with us indefinitely, I’ve largely forgotten any motives related to Sam or the Alatir as a species. But if the government has some sort of communication network that can allow humanity, as a whole, to know that we can work with the Alatir…honestly I don’t know how big of an effect it might have. But even saving one life would be worth it.

Although, with everything that’s happened, what are the odds of there being any sort of functioning ‘government’ or other form of organized leadership? I don’t want to be pessimistic, but...our journey has just been a series of growing disappointments. Every step of the way, the next step in our journey has always been the one I’ve believed will let us get a better handle on what’s going on, the one that will let us reconnect with humanity and gather some semblance of normalcy. Yet each has left us worse than we were before. First at Aliston, where we first realized our troubles were more widespread than we could ever believe. Then at Carscott, where we learned that simply finding other humans might not solve all of our issues. And now Clayton, the largest city for hundreds of miles, we’ve found almost entirely empty, our families dead or missing.

What are the odds Bothell won’t just be more of the same?

I shake my head. I can’t afford to let myself get into that mindset. If I had known what was waiting for me here in Clayton...would I have had the strength to make it this far? I have to hold onto hope, as unrealistic as that hope may seem. We will find Styx and Pallas’ families. We will find larger remnants of humanity to join. If not in Bothell, then in the next city, or the next after that.

Because we’ve made it this far -- nothing we’ve faced has stopped us yet, and nothing we will face will be able to stop us.

With the solidifying of my resolve comes decisiveness. “We’ll travel together to Bothell, all of us. But first, we need to check for Styx’s family, and Ms. Kathy and the twins shouldn’t come with us.” Before anyone has the chance to voice arguments, I continue. “Styx’s house is further in towards the city where there likely are more monsters. They don’t need to face that risk. But we won’t leave them alone here either.”

There’s a beat of silence as my friends process my words, Styx the first to understand what I’m suggesting. “You’re saying we should split up.” Realization dawns in Pallas and Melete’s eyes, Melete looking immediately angry, while Pallas just looks resigned.

“Yes. Not permanently -- just for a quick trip to Styx’s house. Less than a day, and with my skill we’ll be able to stay in constant communication.”

“But you NEVER split the party!” Melete exclaims, completely confident in her assertion.

The way she’s speaking makes me think she’s referencing something more than just our situation. But I ignore it, chalking it up to regular Melete weirdness, and continue. “I don’t see any other options. Not unless we plan on bringing Ms. Kathy and the twins with us, which I don’t think is wise. The less they have to travel through the city, the better.” I don’t mention the other options to avoid splitting our group: not checking on Styx’s family at all or leaving Ms. Kathy and the twins unattended. Because I know that those aren’t truly options.

Silence follows as my friends each consider the possibilities, trying to come up with better alternatives. After a moment, Pallas, at least, finally accepts that it’s our only course of action.

“Who’s going, then?” he asks quietly.

“I will,” Styx immediately says with fire in her eyes, daring anyone to argue with her.

“Of course,” I say placatingly, “no one else would be able to find your house.” Styx blows air into her cheeks, looking embarrassed by her outburst. “The big question is: who else?”

I’ve already come up with what I think are the ideal teams, but I give everyone else a chance to chime in with their opinions, first. But when no one speaks up, I continue. “Melete, you should stay here.”

“...but what about my skill?” she responds, a rare look of uncertainty on her face.

“It’s definitely our strongest combat skill, but this is going to be a stealth mission. We’re separated, and so we’re going to do whatever we can to avoid any confrontations: running, hiding, anything. And as strong as your skill is, it isn’t exactly subtle, and stealth is more important than power while we’re not together. Which is why Sam should also go.” I say, Melete nodding along.

“Who else?” Pallas asks, assuming we won’t be sending Styx out alone with just Sam for backup, with which I agree wholeheartedly. As much as my trust in Sam has grown, I still don’t fully understand its priorities or way of thinking. While for now I believe Sam’s on our side, what might cause that to change?

I take a deep breath before continuing. “I think I should be the last one to go.”

A small smirk appears at the corner of Melete’s lip, “Is this just so you can get...”

“No,” I cut her off as my face heats up, hurriedly explaining my reasoning while pointedly not making eye contact with Styx. “My skill will allow us to stay in touch, but it’s limited. I can explain what’s going on to whomever I’m bonded with, but talking back is harder -- I’ll have to be actively listening using your ears, and you’ll have to be talking out loud for me to hear. If we’re trying to stay stealthy out there, it’s best if I go.”

It’s the most logical approach. We want the one who can communicate silently to be on the stealth mission. Looking at it completely impartially, it’s obviously the correct choice.

...and if it allows me, rather than Pallas, to have a day alone with Styx, with only Sam as a chaperone? I can’t deny that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind.

Melete’s still smirking as she gives me a conciliatory nod. “Sounds like a plan then. Leaving tomorrow?”

I finally have the courage to look at Styx, happily noticing the slight blush in her cheeks. Less than the tomato of my own face, but still present. “Yeah. Hopefully we’ll be back before it gets dark.”

With almost perfect timing, Ms. Kathy walks into the room with an armful of blankets. “Well, the twins are both in bed and presumably asleep -- although I’m sure they’ll be up in a few hours with nightmares. Don’t let them bother you, just send them to me if they come in here. I’ve got a roll-out mattress the girls can use, but you boys are going to have to use the furniture.”

“That’s fine, Ms. Kathy,” Pallas says, patting the recliner he’s currently relaxing in. “We also have some of our own supplies, and I’m sure wherever we sleep is better than the forest floor.”

“Why aren’t you a sweetie, but that’s not much of a bar to cross, so hopefully we can be at least a few steps up from camping in the wilderness.”

----------------------------------------

Styx and I receive hugs goodbye from Ms. Kathy and exit her apartment, Styx holding the door open for an extra second for the invisible (at least to Ms. Kathy and the twins’ senses) Sam. I give a final wave through the window before proceeding down the stairs as silently as possible.

Before leaving, I set up a bond with Pallas so that we have a method to communicate on our excursion. I’m worried that the bond might fade with time or distance -- I’ve never tried to maintain a bond for longer than a few hours, much less while asleep, and the furthest I’ve ever been separated from a bond-mate is thirty yards. My impression from my skill-vision is that I should be able to maintain the bonds indefinitely, regardless of time or distance, but...how much can I trust these foreign instincts on the skill? Even if the instincts are entirely valid and inherited directly from the hive queen, do those rules apply to my current level of the skill? I’ve had it for only...has it even been a week, yet? It’s hardly shifted color from the original red, and is far behind my first skill’s color.

But no one else has questioned my skill’s limits, so I’ll just have to make do with what I have. I’ll use it as long as I can, and try to warn Pallas if I feel the bond about to break.

I at least have the consolation that my skill is getting plenty of practice. While I’ve more or less become accustomed to the constant ‘weight’ of non-stop modifications with my Adjust: Self skill, the Bond: Mental skill has an entirely different cost associated with its use. While Adjust: Self is dependent on willpower and my wisdom Number in order to make and hold steady multiple modifications, practicing it feels more like exercising a completely new muscle to its limits.

Bond: Mental, on the other hand, is much more cerebral. It doesn’t feel as if I have to ‘push as hard as I can’ to use the skill, not like my first skill does. Instead, if I maintain too many bonds for too long I’ll get a splitting headache that ruins my concentration and focus, and trying to form more bonds than I can handle will mean I can’t process information from any of them without getting disoriented.

I guess it makes sense -- the word ‘mental’ is right there in the name of the skill. Although...I’ve always heard the brain is a muscle too, and just like other muscles needs to be ‘worked out.’

For now, I keep a second bond formed with Styx as we sneak away from the apartment building. While I’ve been able to keep three bonds going simultaneously for much of our walk through Clayton to Ms. Kathy’s, I don’t want to push myself now, not when I can’t afford to drop one of the bonds. Because despite not knowing the range that I’m able to maintain my bonds, we’ve been able to easily test how close I have to be to form a new bond: less than ten feet.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

If I drop the bond with Pallas, it’s not coming back. At least not until we meet up once again.

It pains me not to push my limits as much as I am able, though. With everyone’s Numbers getting reset at the moment of the inclusion, it’s felt like a non-stop race to grow in power over the last month, a race with deadly consequences for losing. Any time spent not growing better in at least one area is time that everyone else is passing me by. And with the disadvantage of being human, of starting with zero Numbers and skills? We can’t afford to be wasting any time.

It’s at least some consolation that I notice my Adjust: Self skill has started to recover. The tattoo on my right arm is just noticeably brighter than it was a few days ago, as if someone with a picture of my arm has been slowly turning up the contrast. I’m once again able to make small changes without any pain or resistance from my skill, and so have resumed that skill’s training of constant minor modifications to my body under my clothes -- with emphasis on the ‘minor.’ Anything larger and I encounter the same blank reaction from my skill that followed my original skill-strain, coupled with the collapsing of any active modifications.

Those small modifications provide little distraction as I follow Styx through the abandoned broken-down streets. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. On the one hand, awareness of our surroundings is paramount, as inattention before a monster attack could lead to our deaths. On the other hand...I wish I had something to take my mind off of my thoughts.

Trying to stay silent as we sneak along the sidewalks, there’s no way for Styx to respond to any messages I might send her through the bond, making any potential conversation hopelessly one-sided. And yet I can’t stop thinking about the girl I’m following, that we’re out here alone together with only each other for company...well, and Sam too, I guess, but Sam hardly counts.

But no, I can’t think of this trip like that. What if she doesn’t reciprocate? How can I ask her without ruining everything?

But...we’re literally on our way to find out if her parents are alive or dead, not on some romantic vacation. This isn’t the time or the place to be having these thoughts.

And as the possibility of ‘dead parents’ comes up, I shiver, pausing where I stand and taking deep breaths as I push those errant thoughts away.

By the time I’ve regained control of myself and cleared my head of any errant thoughts, Styx is almost twenty yards ahead of me, her long stride and impatient pace eating up the distance. I jog to catch up, and my gaze inadvertently drifts to the long legs that make Styx’s long stride possible...and my thoughts are back full circle.

I sigh.

----------------------------------------

It’s been three hours since we left, and the sun has well and truly risen. When we originally set out, the sun was barely more than a sliver on the horizon, the streets still shaded and the air brisk.

Now, it’s just starting to cross the line from ‘warm’ into ‘toasty’, the stillness of the air providing no reprieve from the beating rays of the sun, a sharp contrast to the chilly drizzle of yesterday. And our constant rapid pace, set by an anxious Styx, is giving me no time to rest.

At one point, Styx points to a crooked road sign, whispering she recognizes the road as one that runs within a few minutes of her house. After that, her pace increases even further, to the point that I finally ask her through the bond to slow down, worried we won’t be in any shape to run or fight if we do encounter a monster.

Her only response is a sharp glare thrown over her shoulder. But looking at my sweaty form, heaving for breath, she must finally realize how fast she’s been going, and she begrudgingly slows her pace -- if only marginally.

It’s at times like this when I wish I hadn’t invested so much into the mental Numbers.

Fifteen minutes later I’m considering asking Styx to slow down once more, when Sam’s voice cuts off any thoughts I have on the matter.

“Stop!”

After hours of hiking in silence, Sam’s voice is disconcertingly loud, and we both immediately freeze. It takes a few seconds for me to remember that its voice is only in my head, and I use my skill to offer Sam a bond.

Sam accepts almost immediately, but before I have the chance to ask any questions Sam is already speaking. “Do you feel that?”

My immediate thought is to ask, ‘feel what?’, but I put that response on hold in favor of actually checking my surroundings. Of course, I’ve been keeping a lookout on everything around us as we travel, my head practically on a swivel, but after three hours of a breakneck pace my attention has wavered.

Looking around, I don’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary. Focusing on my bonds with my two nearby companions, I don’t notice anything special from their points of view either, not even with Sam’s ‘motion-sensing’ vision.

But wait, Sam said ‘feel’, not ‘see.’ I focus on my bond with Sam, attempting to understand the sensations its body is sending me, trying to place anything that it might have deemed as out of the ordinary. This is more difficult that it would seem -- Sam’s body is completely different from my own, and so many of its natural sensations are just a little bit off from those of a human.

But I’ve spent time bonded with Sam before, and slowly make my way through those senses the bond is sending me, discarding those sensations I recognize as ‘natural.’ Yet still, nothing catches my attention. In just a few seconds, I’ve processed all of Sam’s physical sensations without successfully isolating what it’s referring to.

I open my mouth to ask for clarification, but slowly close it instead.

I’ve previously noticed that my bond transmits more than just the five basic senses. Pain, for example: while in some ways it’s similar to normal tactile feedback, it’s not quite identical. For one, the pain is thankfully muted. I can’t imagine how terrible this skill might be if I fully experienced the pain of anyone I’m bonded to. But the sensation of pain is different from a purely physical observation in other ways as well. While it does, obviously, have a small physical component to it, it carries a more general feeling of alarm and shock through the bond as well. When facing the flying monster a few days earlier, I was able to sense at least some of the terror my friends were experiencing through my bonds.

Is there any physical component to those types of feelings? Because if not...does that mean I’m reading people’s minds?

I shudder.

While so many people talk about how great of a superpower mind-reading would be, I’ve never been convinced that it would be anything but terrible.

But no, it isn’t mind-reading, at least not yet, not at my current level of the skill. More like state-of-mind-reading. Empathic, maybe?

But before I have a chance to delve further into my new understanding of my skill, and whether it might be useful to determine what Sam is feeling, I’m distracted by Styx’s soft voice, “The pressure?”

Sam responds with a confirming, “Yes,” before turning to see if I can feel it as well.

I debate continuing to examine the bond, but quickly discard that idea in favor of self-reflection. As much as I want to explore the limits of my skill, now is not the time and here is not the place.

But even after half a minute of quiet ‘feeling,’ I can’t identify anything strange or different.

I shake my head as I give up trying to identify the feeling. What is it like? I ask instead.

“It’s...strange,” Styx answers, her voice still a whisper. “I’m not sure if I know how to describe it. Maybe...you know how it feels when you change elevation, and your ears need to pop? It reminds me of that, but...mental, rather than physical.” I shoot her a confused glance out of the corner of my eye, and she sighs. “I know that’s a bad description, but that’s the best I can come up with.”

“I believe it to be the result of a skill, likely an aura skill similar to Melete’s, although without the sound component,” Sam explains.

I’ve continued to keep watch as we talk, but aside from the purported ‘pressure’, the street appears identical to the miles of abandoned roads we’ve already covered: hot, empty, still, and silent.

“We’ll keep an eye out, then,” Styx says, her determination to continue clear on her face. Sam’s large eye focuses on her, and it seems almost...hesitant? But after waiting a beat without any resistance, Styx turns and leads the way down the street, Sam following after only a moment. I hurry to catch up.

Ten minutes later I finally notice the sensation they had attempted to point out to me. It’s still extremely faint, faint enough that I’m unable to tell when the sensation started, or even if it was around when they first felt it and I was only oblivious at the time.

Like Styx said, it’s difficult to describe. The best word I can think of to describe the sensation is pressure, a pseudo-headache that is most apparent after movement. In fact, I first noticed it by quickly turning my head to find the source of a quiet rustle from a nearby house.

I’m not able to identify the noise, but the quick swing of my head finally makes me notice the slowly growing pressure. Through my bond, I let Styx and Sam know that I can feel it.

“Wisdom,” Styx whispers back. “It’s the reason you couldn’t feel it earlier. Your wisdom Number gives you the mental resilience to resist it.” She turns back to look at me, and winces slightly. “It’s much worse now.” I feel my bond with her break, and her face relaxes. She must have activated her own skill to fight back against the pressure.

“I recommend turning back,” Sam says.

I face Sam, surprised. “It’s that bad?”

Styx turns to stare at Sam with something more than just surprise, but she doesn’t immediately demand that we continue, which worries me. The pressure from the skill must be worse than I thought.

“It is not yet that bad. But it does not bode well for the strength of the creature creating this pressure. I worry for our fate should it discover us,” Sam says.

“Why?” I ask. “I mean, sure it might be strong. But it seems like half of the monsters we’ve faced have some sort of aura. Even Jeremy, back in Carscott, had an aura-like skill, making everyone afraid of him. I know we’re less strong without Pallas and Melete, but still? To turn back without even seeing the monster itself? How is this any different from all those other times?”

“This is not a fear aura though,” Sam replies, as if that explains everything.

“...why does that change anything?” I ask.

Sam sighs, and I contain my surprise. Since when has Sam been able to so successfully mimic human mannerisms? But Sam continues before I can think about it any further. “Not all skills are created equal. Auras of fear, for example, are one of the most common skills you will see. Powerful creatures naturally form a presence, one that causes all those weaker than them to cower. And those that are weak associate that presence with power. They desire that presence. They crave power, domination, and the subjugation of those around them, and to the weak, an aura of fear seems to accomplish those things. And it does -- at least for those who are weak, who only interact with others that are weak.

“The truly powerful, however, have no need for that aura. They may develop it naturally, or they may acquire it along the way, but it is not the source of their power. They have other skills that truly make them powerful. Melete’s skill, for example. Or…” Sam’s eye turns its gaze to Styx, “your nullify skill. It is extremely rare. And extremely powerful. There is a reason why the trolls, despite reproducing rarely, refusing to cooperate with any others, and being extremely unintelligent, are still a feared opponent to all creatures. They can invalidate the major source of power for almost anyone.”

“Yeah, but what does that have to do at all with this pressure skill?” I ask impatiently.

“It is clearly a skill, as shown by Styx’s ability to nullify it, rather than a natural phenomenon. Since we haven’t yet been attacked, it is likely that the creature creating this skill is not aware of our presence, which means it is a passive skill. Or at least an active skill the creature uses constantly. We have traveled over a half-mile since first noticing the aura, and it has only gotten stronger throughout that time, which means the aura has a radius of at least a half-mile, potentially much more. And we are in a once-populous city that, since the inclusion, has been overrun by various roaming creatures desperate for battle and the Numbers that come with it.” Sam cites the facts in a rapid-fire list, and finally pauses before stating what I’ve realized is the inevitable conclusion to those facts. “This creature creating this aura is not subtle. Any other creature within a half-mile of its position would be able to track its location and attack it. That it is still alive in a major city a month after the inclusion means it has faced a lot of battle. And that from those battles, it has come out victorious, and stronger for each victory.”

I gulp. An aura a mile wide, minimum? And every monster in that area either dead by its hands, or hiding from it? How powerful might this thing be, after a month of battling, and winning, against other aggressive monsters, unwilling or unable to hide its aura?

Styx, however, is not so easily deterred. “That’s not the only explanation,” she says derisively. I look around us before gesturing for her to keep it quiet, and she looks ashamed for a moment before continuing at a lower volume. “There are plenty of other possibilities. Maybe it only activates the aura when it’s ready to fight and is looking for prey. You said lots of monsters want skills like that? Maybe the skill has been passed around like a hot potato for the last month, its wide aura and inability to hide killing each new owner the day after they get it from constant battles, each of them weaker than the last. Also, we’ve been walking through this city ‘swarming with monsters’ for the last three hours, without seeing hide nor hair of anything. You’ve said cities attract monsters post-inclusion, but I sure haven’t seen much evidence to support that.”

Sam responds to her points immediately and in the order they were made. “If it is only releasing its aura now because it is looking for prey, that is even more reason for us to avoid it. And while the skill may have changed hands...I think you are vastly overestimating the chances of obtaining a skill. Less than one in a hundred fights will result in a skill being transferred, maybe not even one in a thousand, depending on those doing battle and the skill in question. And a newly acquired skill must be learned and practiced before it gains any significant strength. This aura is not a new skill, not with the range and power it possesses.” I withhold any comments on the apparent power of the skill, understanding that they’re suffering more than I from the pressure. “And as to your third point...where are the humans, then?” Sam’s voice becomes uncharacteristically sharp as it continues. “You stated this was a city of thousands, yes? Where are they? I will tell you where they are. They are dead, or they have fled, or they cower, awaiting their inevitable death. Because those who did not flee or cower, who continued without caution, perhaps following the same logic that you have presented, were killed. Population centers immediately post-inclusion are death traps. For only the lucky few they are unequaled opportunities of growth, but because of that any creature with instincts and blind aggression will flock here, to their deaths, the fodder that strengthens the lucky few.”

Styx’s eyes are wide as she stares at Sam, taken aback by its sudden assertiveness, as Sam continues after another mental sigh. “Of course, that is only for the time immediately following the inclusion. Now, a month later, it will be safer in some ways, and yet more dangerous in others. Because now, after a month of almost constant battles, only the lucky few are left. And that is what we will face if we continue: the source of this aura.”

Neither Styx nor I know how to respond to Sam’s speech. The silence continues for what feels like minutes, but surely is less than thirty seconds, until Styx finally breaks it with a whisper.

“...but my parents...”

I turn to her, and see the tears in her eyes.

If I had a moment to think about it, I probably would have questioned, second-guessed, and hesitated to do what I did next. But in that moment, looking at the girl who always seemed so strong, so self-assured, broken as the hope of reuniting with her family crumbles around her, I don’t hesitate.

I step forward and wrap my arms around her, holding her close in a tight hug, a mirror of how she hold me barely a day ago. Her arms immediately wrap back around me, her head buried against my neck as she chokes back a sob.

S: 153

D: 144

W: 389

I: 362

C: 100

0

Skills: Adjust:Self, Bond:Mental