“You are not supposed to be here,” Fleon said.

Boyd laughed, “No shit? I’m not supposed to be here? Man when I got up this morning you wanna know where I thought I was going to be right now? In the back of my pickup with one hand up Wendy Nelson’s shirt and the other hand undoing the button on her jeans. This ain’t exactly what I planned either.”

“I am unsure what is under this Wendy Nelson’s shirt, but instead you are here and we should explain to you what just happened.”

“I’m all ears. Seems like you fuckers were trying to kill me if you ask me.”

Jellybean Jenkins spoke first, “You are of Zenith.”

“I’m from Oklahoma. Haskell, Oklahoma.”

Salia shook her head no, “Not anymore.”

Gmol’s rune flashed through a number of symbols. Fleon said, “I’m afraid Gmol is correct. I know this won’t make sense to you, but you are…” Fleon said a number of words. His mouth continued to move but the sound didn’t come out for almost a full second later. “…playing for the wrong team.”

“What just happened? You were talking but the sound came later.”

“Right, that’s part of things. It also explains how you are able to communicate with us. You are clearly receiving a large measure of outside help I guess you could say. In fact, I know of no precedent for what you are or what you could become or even if I shouldn’t have let Gmol do what he intended. Your status as a Combatant is untenable at best. The long and short of it is that you are of Zenith now. The system has marked you as a component of itself. You are essentially part of The Maze. Somehow though, you are also bound to us as a Combatant. This shouldn’t happen. Usually, either you are a part of our Foray, or another Foray, or you are a part of Zenith, or you are somewhere else in the Universe but never before have I seen anyone who was a part of both a Foray and of Zenith.”

Boyd was extremely confused. “I’m from Haskell, Oklahoma. I don’t know anyone named Zenith. I’m not from Zenith. Ya’ll just keep throwing me curveball after curveball. I don’t know any of this shit. I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. This has all gotten way too stupid man. Like, it was one thing, when ya’ll were being nice and I thought this whole thing was just so I can get back to Oklahoma, and now I don’t even know what to think. The Slime thing and the Dog and the Bird lady all just tried to kill me.” Boyd, not normally one for emotions, realized that the fact that the only people he thought could possibly be his friends trying to kill him was the source of his discontent. He felt tears welling up, but remembered that crying was something he considered “for pussies” much like being a fan of the Dallas Cowboys and thus he did what he could to hold the tears back. “Then ya’ll drag me into this fucking simulator thing and we’re supposed to hunt down shit and there’s two dimensional cactus riding things shooting arrows at me and the Dog keeps trying to eat me and Salia is a fucking hummingbird in a space suit and this is too god damn much man…”

Gmol flashed white for a brief second and Boyd felt calm wash over him.

“Stop coddling him.” Jellybean Jenkins currently had the body of a wolf with a man-like face. He was curled into a sleeping position and was licking his rapidly regenerating leg. “Listen to me human. The creature that Assigned you was the same creature that operates this place. It is a being of immense, almost immeasurable power that even the most advanced races and species do not understand. I have no idea how or why you were allowed to interact with it, but it has claimed you. Your abilities are derived from Zenith itself. Typically, this would place you…” Jellybean continued to yip in his own language but the sound came later again, “…in opposition to us. You are effectively straddling two sides of a chasm right now. You are both a Combatant and of Zenith. You are both a member of our Foray and our enemy.”

“Look I’m not the enemy. I just want to go home. If Zenith is the enemy that’s between you and them or it or whatever.” Boyd asked.

Salia said, “Zenith is less the enemy than a mystery. All of us are here for the same reason. As previously noted, every 30 years the Forays into Zenith are held. We enter the Maze, groups claim whatever Mana Nodes they can, and we do it all again 30 years later. Why this happens no one knows, but the wealth that it brings is beyond measure, and thus everyone who can participate continues to do so. This comes at a price though. While we are in the Maze, our lives are very much at stake. In that sense, Zenith is most definitely the enemy.”

"But I’m not the enemy right? We’re a team!” Boyd clapped Fleon on the back. He edged away.

“I cannot rightly say Boyd. If your powers are derived from Zenith herself, then by all normal rights and measures, you are indeed the enemy. At least while we are in this Maze, the fact you draw your powers from Zenith would normally place you in direct opposition to our goals. Gmol tried to kill you as he assumed you were some sort of sleeper element. A spy of sorts. While the Maze is usually the same in structure, every time there are subtle twists. His assumption is that you were this year’s twist.”

Gmol’s rune made a symbol that Boyd understood to mean, “Sorry.”

“While that is still possible, even if you are unaware of it, I have convinced the team that you should be allowed to continue with us based on a few simple facts. Foremost, you should know that you should never again mention your Inherent Abilities to anyone else. Ever. You have access to something that no one else in the known Universe has. Inherent Abilities are something purely of Zenith. While your current Rank is extremely low, if you were to cultivate your powers I cannot begin to explain to you just how devastatingly powerful all three of your Inherent Abilities are while we are here on Zenith. Just as an example, your Inherent Ability “Uncultured Swine” is one of the most powerful things I can imagine. The Maze runs off of an immensely complex magical system. While no one understands the underlying mechanics, critical failures are thought to be responsible for many deaths in The Maze. That is why we train so hard and specialize our skills. To avoid these critical mistakes. Not only are you literally incapable of critical failures, but you actively turn them into critical successes. What this means is that your extremely low rank may actually end up saving your life. In fact, one could make an argument that should you actively build towards using this. If I were to hand you the most complicated spell on the planet, there is a reasonable likelihood you could cast it successfully as is, as given the extremely strong chance of a critical failure, your Inherent Ability would actually invert this to an equally strong chance of a critical success.”

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Salia interjected, “When I dropped you from the sky, you instinctively tried to roll to save yourself. I couldn’t possibly understand how Fleon’s Bubble of Protection could’ve saved you, but it seems like whatever you did, you did so badly that it ended up becoming a critical success and you took no damage from falling from what should’ve been certain death, and you sustained the bubble.”

Fleon continued, “Correct. My Bubble did not save you. You saved yourself. Second, you should know there are many restrictions applied to us that will not be applied to you. I cannot say more than this, as you are a unique case. Combatants are held to a strict set of rules. These literally cannot be broken. It is impossible. Because you are of Zenith, I don’t know what will, and will not, apply to you. Simultaneously, this means you have potentials that no one else has.”

Boyd was getting interested, “Like what?”

Fleon shook his head, “I’ve spent my life studying The Maze to prepare for this moment, but you are a genuine anomaly. I am only posing conjecture if I am being honest. I have no idea what you can or cannot do yet, only that it is likely you are not like us. It is entirely possible that all other Forays have someone like you in their group. You may be this year’s twist on The Maze. You may be a genuine anomaly. Regardless, finally, and you should know this to be utterly true, the reason why you are being allowed to continue is that you are of no threat to any of us.”

Fleon let the last sentence hang.

“What I mean by that is that any of us could kill you instantly if we truly wanted and there is nothing you could do about it. I protected you from Gmol, but I will not be able to do that indefinitely if he really wanted you dead. The fact of the matter is that you are only here out of all of our good graces. If any of us ever decide you are no longer safe to keep around, we have made a solemn pack that no retribution for your death will be sought. As you are of Zenith, we will treat you as such. I would no more seek to harm my fellow Combatants for killing you, as I would seek to harm them for killing those Slenders earlier.”

Boyd stuttered, “What? Why?”

"We explained this to you as a simulation, a game of sorts. That’s true but it’s hardly that simple. You have to understand that while this is a facade of sorts, death is truly fatal in here. Moreover, the four of us are playing, if you would call it that, not just for ourselves, but for the survival of our civilizations. This is in no way a game to me. My people, the Filary, are dependent upon magic to survive. Our very Souls depend on it. If I fail in here, my entire civilization will crumble. Being High Paladin is not just a title, it is a duty of the highest level. I’m not the only one who feels this way. Gmol is the only living Gmol. His death would be equivalent to an extinction of all Gmols. Salia and Jellybean Jenkins have similar reasonings, though you should ask them those yourself. My point in all this is that none of us can afford failure. Continuing further with you in our party is a significant risk, although we have mutually decided the potential gain is too immense to pass up. We will continue to train you and level up with you. In the event you amass even a small amount of your potential, you will make us the most formidable Foray the Maze has seen in years.”

Boyd thought for a minute, “So even though I am from Earth, you guys think I am from Zenith because the World War 2 Nurse lady gave me these Innate things, but also I have to do this Foray thing so you can get me back to Oklahoma? What if I don’t get no stronger? Or what if I just don’t want to do this any longer?”

Fleon spoke gravely, “You’ll die. Or worse. Regardless, you won’t be my problem any longer.”

Boyd stared at the four Combatants. He realized the situation hadn’t really changed for him. None of these people were his friends. They needed him and he needed them. Even if they tried to kill him.

Boyd said, “What happens now?”

Fleon threw his pack at Boyd. “Carry these and start running. I make no others promises. We will make our way to Portcullis and cap any Mana Nodes on the way. We should be able to slay a number of Gorpling camps without much deviation from our paths. Ready your mount Boyd, it is time we ride.”

Fleon raised his hands and performed a number of motions. His long neck flung into the air and a golden beam shot from his mouth into the sky. The beam stopped and a golden Pegasus descended onto the ground. It was tall, the size of a Clydesdale on Earth Boyd thought, but slender and sleak. It had golden wings that looked like they belonged on an Angel. Fleon petted its nose as it stood beside him. “Ho there, Shal’minat, Lord of the Pegasi. Thank you for traveling to battle with me dear friend. We ride yet again.”

The Pegasus whinnied and everyone laughed, except for Boyd, who was still awestruck by a flying horse. He also had no idea what the whinny meant.

“Indeed! Let us sally forth. We shall make the town of Portcullis by nightfall, covered in the blood of our enemies!” Fleon said.

Salia’s VMR was already floating, powered by some technomagical jet packs in her talon-like feet. Jellybean Jenkins had fully transformed into a Wolf, leaving behind bits of tissue and blood. He snarled at the group and pawed at the ground. Gmolgmol Gmolgmolgmol disappeared into the ground and then reappeared several hundred meters away almost instantly. The rune in his stomach waved them forward and they understood it to mean, “Come on!”

Within a few instants the entire party was gone, hundreds of meters into distance. Fleon atop his Pegasus, Gmol leaving a mole-like mound of dirt where travelled in the ground, Salia buzzing away at the head of the pack and Jellybean Jenkins loping alongside.

Now knowing what to do, Boyd sat down.

Around what Boyd assumed was 15 minutes later, they returned.

Fleon leapt from atop his Pegasus. The group was already covered in blood.

“Friend Boyd, you did not participate in the last battle. Your absence was noted. Why have you not moved?”

“Uhh, ya’ll kinda left without me. I can run this fast, and uhh… not for long.” Boyd took off a brisk jog. The group’s pack bounced against his back. It hurt a little, and he slowed his pace so they didn’t jostle as much.

“This is a problem, Sir Boyd. You are… quite slow in comparison to the rest of the group. It would take a week to reach Portcullis at your pace.”

A number of solutions were proposed and tried:

* Functionally, the best scenario would be for Boyd to ride on Fleon’s Pegasus, but it was quickly determined that Shal’minat’s holy aura was actually toxic to Boyd’s skin and would likely kill him with prolonged exposure. During this experiment, Boyd felt pain for the first time on Zenith and also saw:

Life: 22/25. You are mildly injured.

This was disconcerting to him, but a quick spell from Gmol healed him right up.

* The second attempt was to have Salia carry him in her talons. In order to maintain any kind of speed, she had to grip him so tight that she got much closer to killing him. Even more disconcerting was:

Life: 9/25. You are greviously injured. You are losing 1 life per minute from bleeding. Your wounds are infected with Technopoison. You are losing 1 life per second from Technopoison. You will die from Technopoison.

Gmol again removed both the poison and provided some quick healing. Salia apologized for both the wounds and the Technopoison which she claimed she had “forgot she applied.” Boyd remained skeptical and had the real thought that he could die here for the first time. This left him very unhappy.

* The third plan put forth was for him to ride Jellybean Jenkins. This plan was squashed by Jellybean Jenkins himself, who viewed this as beneath his station.

* The idea of leaving Boyd behind was bandied about for a considerable period. Several votes occurred, and it was narrowly decided that they would allow him to continue, with all parties switching sides at various points. Boyd was the only steadfast vote in favor of yes.

Ultimately, they began walking. It actually took six days to reach Portcullis, but this did offer the chance to kill a number of Gorplings on the way.