I take inventory of the current situation. My [Ether] is almost completely drained. I’ve got less than two seconds of [Barrier] available. My [Health] is barely over a third, even after Chloe has healed me. My fibula is no longer cracked thanks to her healing spell, but I’m still full of bruises and absolutely do not want to move, let alone have to engage in another encounter right now. Worse still, this isn’t some dumb beast approaching, nor a territorial robot content to follow its duties without question and ignore anyone who voluntarily leaves their domain.

The irony of being not so different from a robot isn’t lost on me.

Officer Whatshisname blasts his bright headlights in my face. He gets out of his car and straddles over toward me, all while Chloe sits down and catches her breath. Despite the apocalypse over the past week, he looks quite well fed, most likely having taken the time to raid a donut shop or three during his patrol. He hasn’t yet moved toward his gun, but I know these bastards are trigger-happy and love to shoot first, second, third, and maybe fourth for good measure. Again, not earning the wrath of the law while I’m still only level 10 seems like a good idea.

A small bit of tension leaves me as I confirm that this isn’t the officer from before. He doesn’t look happy, though, although it’s hard to get a read on his face as I try to squint and get a look at his facial features. Short, salt-and-pepper colored hair, plenty of five o’clock shadow, otherwise clean shaven, so far as I can tell in the bright contrast.

“What are you two ladies doing out after curfew?” he asks.

“Trying to find someplace to stay tonight. We were attacked by a Razorfeather Eagle just before you arrived.”

He looks unamused. “Alright, I’m going to need to see some identification.”

I’m surprised I actually have my ID on me, considering how useless it is these days. I hand it over and briefly consider making a run for it. The fact that Chloe and I both need more time to restore our [Ether] reserves, coupled with the fact that the pig in front of me is now documenting my identity, gives me pause. Note to self: Ethertech-based fake ID, for the next time this conversation happens. Shouldn’t be any reason why Ethertech can’t perfectly mimic the security features built into the cards from old Earth.

“Alright, and you aren’t home because?”

“Well, sometime shortly after System Integration, someone broke into my home, killed my mother, and looted the place, robbed us of all our food, shattered the windows, and left the door kicked in. I was thankfully at my friend’s house, but after I stopped by to pick up the few outfits I could salvage, I’ve not wanted to go back. Well, that’s a partial lie. I’d like to give my mother a proper cremation rather than just leaving her to whatever dogs and rodents eventually got to her. But, you know, not much I can do about that on my own.”

Normally I’d just invoke my Constitutional rights and shut up like a smart person would. The problem with that is twofold. First, that doesn’t get you out of the arrest, only the subsequent charges. And secondly, feigning cooperation is a great way to buy more time to restore my [Ether]. I’m gaining one point about every ten seconds now, and after having used every bit of it in the last fight, I’ll take every point I can get for this one.

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even blink. Just scribbles more stuff on his notepad, not showing the slightest bit of empathy for a woman who lost her mother not even a week ago. If I were being charitable, I’d say that it’s not the first and won’t be the last time he’s heard such stories since the apocalypse. But the law has never been charitable toward my type, so I feel no desire to show him any empathy either.

“I’m afraid that I’m going to have to ask you to come with me. You’re in violation of curfew.”

“And where do you plan to take us?” I ask.

“Will you take us back to my home?” Chloe interjects. “It’s on the far side of town, though.” She hands her ID to the man, who looks at the address and jots more notes down before handing both of them back to us.

To my absolute shock, he agrees. Way, way too easily. Though, there’s something I vaguely remember from seeing a video on this very topic, and find a way to buy more time.

“Before we depart, can I see your badge and commission card, officer?” I ask. “With so many people getting new powers thanks to the arrival of the System, how do I know you don’t have an [Impersonation] skill, or you have a [Rogue] class and stole an officer’s uniform and patrol vehicle?” Obviously, those can be faked as well, but just seeing his reaction will give me some indication of how this confrontation will play out.

He looks displeased with me, but again, to my shock, he does comply. Unfortunately, I don’t actually know what a genuine police commission card looks like in this state, so I can’t confirm its authenticity. I am convinced, however, that this isn’t a rogue operative, and that I’d really rather not cause any unnecessary issues now that I’m in the system.

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I sigh. “Very well. But I’d like to get my sketchpad and a few pieces of food out of our pack first. It’s been a long day, and fighting giant birds is pretty draining.”

He— Officer Whitney, according to his card— makes no secret of his disdain toward me and my attempts to stall. However, whatever his reason, he makes no attempt to interfere. His hand moves to his weapon, and I make sure that my movements are slow and methodical, giving him no excuse to ‘fear for his life’. I grab a sack of trail mix, hand it to Chloe, then grab my sketchbook and a pen and motion toward the car.

I harbor no delusions as we’re beckoned into the car. We’re not being cuffed, read our nonexistent rights, or otherwise being formally processed, but we’re definitely being detained and transported to the city jail. Still, I play along anyway. We’ll get halfway back to Chloe’s house by the time we make our timely break from freedom, we’ll get a chance to sit down and rest for a bit, and we’ll be able to get our [Ether] regenerated in relative safety.

The car sputters for a moment as the engine starts up, and before long, we’re off. The roads are nearly empty of any actual traffic. Parked cars are plentiful on the sides of the streets and in driveways, with people having dragged them out of garages whose doors don’t function. There are some flickering lights coming from some of the houses. At first I thought it was those lucky few who had a generator available, but most of these lights are coming from the orange glow of fireplaces providing heat and comfort to the families within. Now that I think about it, it’s also the one way enterprising people have to cook a meal. I doubt gas stoves are working. Or maybe they are? My class and Skills give me no guidance on this question.

The trip is pretty slow, and for whatever reason, the kind, gentlemanly officer— I giggle. I can’t even think that with a straight face, let alone say it aloud. The agent of the state refuses to take the highways for whatever reason— probably his own laziness, or desire to make another donut run— giving us even more time to rest.

I am not at all surprised to see the local Waffle House open, with a long line of cars congregated around it. Come storm or hail or even tornado or the literal apocalypse, it’s good to see at least one sign of the old world desperately fighting to preserve vestiges of the convenience of the old world and the promise that normalcy might eventually return. Though whatever form the new normal will take, will surely be far different than the normal from before.

I play around with the locking device, tracing the glyph of [Locking] onto the inside of the door and channeling a small amount of my [Ether] into the reverse of the sigil. It takes a bit of time, and I need to draw a few additional sluice lines to channel the [Ether], but I am ultimately successful in disabling the lock. It reactivates about five seconds later. The officer doesn’t seem to notice or care about my little experiment, to my relief.

Had we been less fortunate and been put in cuffs, I suspect the glyph probably would work on them too, given how flexible it seems to be. I’m glad I don’t need to test that at the moment.

As expected, as we approach downtown, he avoids the roads that lead further south to where we want to go, instead continuing west toward the local detention and criminal injustice center. My [Ether] is now just under half, and with Chloe’s healing, my [Health] is sitting around five hundred.

The officer stops his car at an intersection just outside the inner dispersal loop, and I prepare to make my move. I turn to Chloe and we share a wordless nod. She grabs her bag and takes my hand. We stop at another intersection, and I make my move. I unfasten my seatbelt and [Unlock] the door with my glyph, and the two of us dive out of our jail on wheels, Chloe slamming the door behind us.

We have hardly a moment to catch our breath before the cop turns around and again attempts to impound us. I ready my [Barrier] as he gets out of the car, gun in hand, and points it at us.

“By my lawful authority vested in me by the state and my commission, I am placing you two ladies under arrest on charges of reckless endangerment, obstruction of justice, and interference of the duties of a police officer. Get on your knees and put your hands on top of your head. Now!”

I shake my head. “Legal authority or not, the System has changed the dynamics at play. You don’t have the physical capability to enforce that declaration. Rescind your declaration and go about your business, and no harm will come to you.”

“Are you threatening me?” Officer Whitney asks.

“Are you prepared to shoot us to enforce your declaration of arrest?” I really, truly have no desire to be involved in this situation. This was supposed to be an opportunity to study and develop new theories about Ethertech, gain some levels, maybe learn a little bit more about my past. I succeeded in all three of these endeavors, and yet the gods-damned cops are trying to ruin everything. Damn I hate the police. Never show up when they’re needed, and always crawl out of their fetid lairs when they’re not wanted or welcome.

He shoots once. I get up my [Barrier] just in the nick of time. The bullet completely bounces off the shield, flying back and indenting itself into the back of his cruiser. He fires again, this time ricocheting into his back-left tire. The third shot grazes his ankle, sending him down to the ground, clutching his injury.

Without missing a beat, Chloe rushes out and heals the officer, making sure there’s no trace of the bullet lodged in his flesh, and giving it a once-over to ensure the bones are all set and healed correctly. I grab the gun, stashing it with the rest of my belongings.

“I tried to warn you,” I say. “We can’t hide behind the old doctrines and paradigms of the previous status quo any longer. Everything about hiding in our homes, observing curfews, trying to maintain the same civilian and military order that existed a month ago? That’s going to get us killed in the long run. The threats around us, born from the System, are only going to get stronger. The only chance any of us have is to seek danger, advance our levels and classes, and be prepared to meet those challenges when they rear their ugly heads. If you can’t do that, you’re not a noble officer, protecting and serving. You’re just a thug with a badge and a fancy uniform.”

Without another word, Chloe and I take our leave, as Officer Whitney is too deep in thought or utterly dazed to try and stop us.