The arrow punctures Luci in the chest.

A primal, bloodcurdling cry spills from my throat. “Luci!”

She still has a health potion, right? Please tell me she has a potion.

Her knees hit the ground. She coughs, blood sputtering from her mouth. Oh god, what if she’s too weak? What if she can’t…

Ditching the ignited prick, I sprint and slide to Luci’s side, my daggers clanging to the floor as I catch her in my arms.

She weighs nothing. How is she so small?

Okay, she can’t recover until the arrow’s out of there. I know that’s not normal survival 101, but it’s apocalypse-we-have-potions 101, so that’s what’s happening.

“Luci, I’m pulling out the arrow. Then you’re going to take the health draught, alright?”

She doesn’t speak. I have to believe she heard me.

“Here we go.” No time to think. I grasp the arrow, knuckles white, and yank.

Blood gushes from her chest, dark and viscous. It’s so much. How is it so much? It won’t stop. Do I press down? Do I wait? Even in the dimness of the cavern, I can see her light draining.

Her eyes close, and my heart stops.

A shiver courses through her body. The health potion. Did she take it? I wait and wait, the fire roaring behind me, weapons clashing, people screaming, grunting.

Eternity passes. And then, Luci’s eyes blink open. Slowly, she passes a hand over her chest, then lifts it, her palm coated in blood.

“Jerk shot me,” she says weakly. Then she squints. “Are you crying?”

“Oh god, Luce,” I laugh.

“Ow, that hurts.” She winces. “Why did you-”

I don’t know what makes me spin around in that moment. A sixth sense, I suppose. And perhaps an awareness that fire doesn’t last forever, and there was about to be one very pissed off bastard seeking his revenge.

Scooping my dagger up from the floor, I turn just in time to see the wisps of magic part. I don’t even see the projectile; I just slice through the empty air, snapping the wooden arrow in two.

I leap to my feet, seething. In his tattered, charred cloak, the archer slides another arrow from his quiver. Nearby, Elias is still locked in battle with the mage, a fiery sphere broiling in her left hand, her flaming sword slashing and clashing in her right. Ron is somewhat behind him. There’s an axe wedged in his thigh, but at least the berserker wielding it is having a hell of a time wrenching it back out of there.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I shout. “She’s thirteen.”

The archer snorts. “And?”

“And she didn’t do anything to you! Dammit, you could have been halfway to the visa quest right now. We didn’t have to be your enemy.”

“Oh, come off your high horse, sweetheart. Enemies? Heroes? That attitude’s old world bullshit. The new world is just a ladder of corpses to climb. I’m just the guy who knows how to get on top.”

He doesn’t wait for me respond. But neither does Luci.

An arrow whizzes past me, slicing the man’s cheek and piercing his ear.

He smirks.

That smug fucking expression makes it somehow even more satisfying when Elias charges into him. The man flails sideways, his whole frame buckling as he smashes into the cavern wall.

Even still, the prick must have a dozen potions on him. Before the axe comes down, the archer rolls and leaps effortlessly from danger. Elias gives chase.

That means the mage is open. She’s forming another fireball, her sights aimed at Elias’ back.

Oh no, she fucking doesn’t.

Luci nocks another arrow as I leap back onto the path and dash after the mage, my scian at the ready.

I’m going to kill them. I’m going to kill every last one of them.

“Hey, Melinda!” I yell.

The woman spins and, with no hesitation, thrusts her hand out and launches the fireball my way.

Heat bellows down the path, but I don’t break my stride. She must think I’m nuts. Just as the fire’s about to hit, I shadowstep behind her and plunge the dagger into her side.

Screaming, she whirls around, sword drawn. I knock it to the side and stab again, then duck under the next swing and stab a third time. They’re shallow hits. I can’t get an edge. She’s fast. Way faster than the dungeon guard. How is she so good with a sword already?

Then my dagger arm stops working. My shoulder burns, then aches, then screams in agony. There’s a deep gash cleaved all the way through the muscle.

New Status!

Crippled: Lose the ability to move or attack with the targeted limb for 1 second per enemy level.

With a grin, Melinda thrusts her blade. I bat it aside. She thrusts again. I pivot. But I can’t counter. Just like that, I’m on the back foot, fighting for my life.

And I’m not the only one. Ron’s on his last legs, his shattered gittern and a broken halberd at his feet. There’s no way he’s got any potions left. The fact that he’s still alive is just a testament to his own reckless perseverance.

Luci’s one failed dodge from death. Elias isn’t dextrous enough to match the archer or strong enough to help against his counterpart.

Is this how it ends?

I don’t know who I’m angrier at: that fucking party or myself. I can’t believe I let them out. I can’t believe they’d come after us. I can’t believe any of this is happening at all. I just wanted some goddamn ice cream. Then I wanted to live, because why the hell not. Then help Luci, because god, she still had a chance, even a little chance for normalcy. For sanity. For self-love and hope. But what was I thinking? What was I thinking? It’s not up to me. It’s up to the assholes in this world, and all any of the rest of us can do is fucking suffer.

It makes me want to scream.

I don’t care. I don’t care. Crisis be damned. Epiphanies later. I have people to murder.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

In the corner of my eye, I spot the sleeper just beginning to wake. Using his staff as a crutch, he hauls himself to his feet, already muttering a new incantation as that gaseous green wafts around him. He’s still bleeding; his collared shirt is absolutely soaked in it.

But what does it matter? What does any of it matter?

Melinda swipes again. I block, just barely. I can’t keep this up.

Fuck this. With the last dregs of my stamina, I shadowstep - maybe for the final time - behind her. Before she even knows I’m there, I kick her in the back of the legs. She stumbles forward - not quite hard enough to fall. But I can help her with that.

I leap, one foot on the small of her back, one on her spine, and drive her down. Just as her face meets the floor, I raise my scian, primed to sink it right into her fucking neck.

Something giggles.

Like an alarming, dissonant chime, it cuts through the chaos like a knife.

At once, the wisps of magic blink out. The luminescence of the mineral veins dims. And from the darkness, piercing emerald eyes emerge. Two. No, four. No, countless.

Then, for the first time, it appears.

There’s only one. The rest hold back, their gazes twinkling with menacing amusement.

From the depths, back towards the tunnel, he staggers toward us. A little boy, no more than ten years old. He’s dressed in rags, his hair matted with dirt and grease. Around his neck is a thick celtic amulet. He lolls his head as though it’s too heavy to carry, his stilted steps alternating between a slow drag and a lumbering lurch.

Niall - The Unforgiven (Level 19)

The boy’s expression doesn’t change. His face is a frozen portrait of wry amusement. Only his eyes are alight with life.

Clutching the amulet, he focuses his haunting green gaze on the closest injured target: the wane man with the glowing staff.

“Are you hurt?” his small voice asks. “I can help with that.”

He laughs, and a choir of discordant giggles echoes behind him.

A mark scorches the air. It hovers over the man’s head, a number seared in black-red fire.

5

“What is that?” the man yells. “Do you see that?”

The archer rolls out from under Elias’ blade. “Ajay, what the hell? What’d you do?”

The boy is already gone, swallowed by the shadows that birthed him.

4

“I didn’t do anything!” His voice crackles in simmering panic. “It’s a- it’s a-”

“It’s a what, idiot.”

“A status! I don’t know!

3

“Well, cut it out!” the archer shouts back.

I’m not sure when Melinda and I parted, but I find myself back where I started, just an arms length away from Luci and Ron. Everyone is just standing there, watching, our will to fight momentarily shattered. Not like we can see anyhow. Once the fire along the mage’s sword sputters out, we’re left in utter darkness. There’s only the glow of those blinking eyes and the strange blazing brand.

2

“What the fuck, what the fuck? It won't stop. Get it off!” the man screams.

The rest of us back up.

1

0

Flesh tears, and his body erupts from the inside out. It’s a small, concentrated burst: blood, bone and shredded tissue popping like a firecracker and splatting in a circle where he stood. His staff clatters to the floor.

The boy giggles.

“Run.” I tug Luci’s hand. “Run!”

Pushing Luci ahead of me, I slip over curved stone until my feet find the path. Then I tear through the cavern corridor in a fumbling, reckless dash. It’s impossible to see. I can only go by how level the ground is, bashing, stubbing, and scraping against unyielding rock like they’re fucking bowling alley bumpers. Luci’s just ahead, and I can hear Ron heaving behind me. I can only hope Elias is following.

Behind us, the cavern shakes with childish chuckles and screams. Fire illuminates the walls in a burst of heat. After that, all I hear is indiscriminate shouting.

From then, it’s a blur. Minutes fly as my body becomes a canvas of bruises and welts. At one point, my head thunks against a stalactite in a way that screams concussion, but the pulsing ache fades quickly.

And then it’s just the sound of our feet thudding against stone.

“Can we… take a break… man,” pants Ron.

I slow to a halt. “Luci. Luci!”

Her outline stops somewhat ahead. The silver veins threading through the walls are lighting our way once more.

Another set of feet thunders behind us, then abruptly stops. “Do we need to rest?” Elias asks. Placing his bag on a ledge, he surveys the party. “Who’s injured?”

Hands on his knees, Ron tries to speak between gulping breaths. “Pa…. pa…” He waves a hand, grasping.

“Potion?” I try. “I think we’re out.”

He collapses against a stalagmite, hugging the rock like it’s a liferaft. Christ. The man’s class makes him immune to bleeding which I now realize looks super fucked up in practice. His arms, no, his entire body is just a mess of gashes and gouges, splitting his muscles, carving all the way down to the bone.

“Ron? Ron, are you losing health or gaining health?”

His head against the stone, he gives me a weak thumbs up and then a hand waggle.

“Going up slowly?” I translate.

Another thumbs up.

“Alright, buddy.” I deflate beside him. “Elias, are they following us?”

“I don’t believe so. They chose to pursue the ones who killed their teammate. But it may not occupy them for long.”

With the butt of his axe, Elias starts bashing the floor.

“Um…”

“I’m manufacturing a pitfall,” he explains. “Unfortunately, collapsing the ceiling provides too many risks.”

“Sure.”

I exhale slowly. What a goddamn mess. In the corner of my eye, there’s the glimmer of a notification. I assume it’s credit for the guy’s death. Maybe a title for the honor of defeating a fellow participant. I dismiss them.

“Luci, you okay?” I ask.

“They’re not real,” she mutters. I can still barely see her.

“Luci…?”

She spins around. “You knew. Both of you.” She juts a finger at Elias and me, her face contorted in anger. “You knew there were other people.”

“I… yeah, we did,” I answer. “I saw them in the prison. But-”

“But what?”

“But I left them there. They seemed dangerous, possibly. I wasn’t sure… I just didn’t want to burden you with the responsibility of neglecting someone. It isn’t right. I just want you to be okay.”

“Why?” She swallows, shaking her head. Then her whole body trembles. The bow slips from her fingers as her face breaks. “Is there something wrong with me?”

Elias drops his axe. “What? Chispita, nothing is wrong with you.”

“There has to be! You don’t trust me. You lie to me. You don’t think I can fight.”

I jump to my feet. “That’s not true.”

“Is it because I’m not strong enough? I can get powerful. I can show you, I can-”

“Luci-”

“No, stop! Stop Luci-ing me!” she yells. “I can’t take it anymore! I can’t. I can’t.”

As I try to reach out, she shoves me away. Then her knees hit the ground. For a moment, she’s still. So still. Then she lifts a hand to her chest, feeling along the collar of that silly chainmail top until she finds her new scar, those small, small fingers tracing along the line. Her shoulders quiver as she’s suddenly wracked with heavy, hitched sobs.

She looks up, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I wanted them to die. Is that… is that why he died?”

I kneel beside her. “No, Luci. No. It was just an enemy. A stupid, horrible dungeon enemy. Nothing more.”

Her breath comes in shallow, frantic beats. “It could’ve… it could’ve been you. It could’ve been any of you. And I, and I…”

“But it wasn’t, chispita,” says Elias.

“We’re here,” I say. “It’s okay.”

“Stop saying that! Stop lying! You don’t know anything!”

Choking on her tears, she falls to her side. Again, I reach for her, but she bats me away as she quickly scrambles back against a rock, pressing her body hard against its surface as though she’s trying to sink right through it. Then she tucks her knees to her chin, clutching them tight, so tight that her nails nearly draw blood as they dig into her flesh.

“That man…” she croaks. “That man just… he just… And if that was you. If I couldn’t… I just can’t anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t. I’m so tired. Why am I so tired?”

I open my mouth, then close it. I don’t know what to say. Elias sits there, speechless. In desperation, I even look to Ron, but he’s crying too. The big teddy bear.

I can’t just say ‘Luci.’ I can’t touch her. I can’t tell her it’ll be okay. I don’t want to tell her it won’t be. That I’m broken too. That broken people can still fight. Is that what she needs to hear?

She looks up at us. Her eyes soften as she gulps back the last of her tears. “Guys, it’s okay. I’m okay. It’s not real.”

“Luci…”

“Really, it’s fine,” she says, her voice suddenly clear. “I’m a rubber ball, remember? I bounce back. I bounce back.”