“Happy birthday, pumpkin!”

Gunfire raged outside as Jason hugged his daughter. She squeezed him tightly, heedless of the blood camouflaging into his coat, before she turned her face to the cupcake he’d stuck a candle in, and blew it out.

He beamed in pride, before an errant thought cast its shadow across his mood.

Eighteen. Shit, they grow so fast.

It seemed like only yesterday he’d watched her take her first shaky steps before falling over and crying for dada. Now she was becoming a woman, almost the spitting image of her mother, and the fucking world had ended.

“How did you even find a cupcake, daddy, let alone three of them?”

Two hours of fighting. Four dead, one captured. He’s probably spilling the beans as we speak.

Jason smiled.

“Well, you see, me and the cupcake fairy go wa-”

Vicky loudly groaned.

“Daaaaad, you never take my questions seriously. Mother Mary, I’m eighteen now! At least pretend to respect me as an adult!”

“I still remember when you believed everything I said.”

“Yeah, I’m realising a lot of your ‘life lessons’ are just bullshit you told me so I would stop asking questions.”

His smile took on a sad cast.

They’re practically twins. You would’ve loved how she turned out, Antoinette.

She even pouted her lip in the same bratty way.

“Come on, dad, that’s just unfair. You only make that face when something reminds you of mom and now I can’t continue without feeling guilty.”

He shrugged innocently.

“No reason for you to feel guilty. I’m just gonna go cry myself to sleep now because of your heartless provocation, and whe-”

He didn’t get the opportunity to finish as she playfully slapped at him, shutting up his teasing.

This was good. Truthfully, the wound was just as fresh, just as stingingly raw as it was fifteen years ago. He’d found out while on deployment in the Central African Republic. His wife, the brightest star in his sky, had killed herself.

He’d shattered back then, internally. Now, he was a Jason shaped container for all the shards of who he used to be. Now, those shards continually scraped him from the inside, slowly carving their way through the shell of his skin. Now, he was on a timer.

Eventually, he’d break. He knew it. He’d seen it, in war. Everyone breaks.

But as he looked down upon his daughter’s curly black hair and light brown skin, much lighter than her mother’s but with the same intrinsic glow, he also knew today wouldn’t be the day. She still needed him.

That’s why he engaged in play like this. It had happened when Vicky was young enough that she barely remembered her mother, and he didn’t want her to associate that memory with pain. At every possible turn, he minimised it, no matter how much agony it brought him.

He’d never lied to her, but he’d never described it as anything more serious than “an angel too good for this world, returning to heaven”. The dark irony was that in some small part of him, he believed it. He’d missed all the signs. He hadn’t seen anything to suspect she’d even think of suicide.

His only thought was that something had happened to her while he was gone, but as he spent months upon fruitless months looking for a smoking gun, he’d eventually come to realise there was none. In his darkest moments, he blamed everyone. He blamed the ambulance for not arriving faster. He blamed their neighbours for not noticing sooner. He blamed Antoinette for not saying anything, for not speaking up so they could work on it together. Most of all, he blamed himself. He hadn’t been there.

She’d needed him, and he hadn’t been there.

She lived on however, in their daughter. And Jason would slaughter anything that threatened her.

“Fine you want me to be more serious? I made a special effort to get you this because you made it through your first Trial. I’m proud of you, millions failed to do what my badass daughter did.”

He remembered what happened after they killed that Mini-Boss and two of his Ascendants failed their second Trials.

He shuddered.

She smiled, her teeth perfect and free of braces for the first time in a long time.

“Only because you’ve been so insistent on teaching me how to kill. You know, before all this kicked off, you were consistently endangering a child by letting me handle so many weapons.”

He spread his palms.

“And look where we are now? As usual, I was right. No need to applaud, really.”

She just rolled her eyes.

Teenagers.

“Learning bladework was much more important than your tiktaks or whatever you call them.”

“Oh my god dad, I swear you do that on purpose! You know that it-”

As Vicky launched into her usual spiel about the different types and kinds of facebook before the system, James thought back to the mission he just came back from.

Truthfully, it was just a scouting mission that had turned into a protracted engagement after Jason had realised Little Lisbon, the [Tiny Settlement] they’d discovered after invading this Partition, not only had a massive store of food, but they had a working bakery.

The group had then punched their way through the faction’s weak picket line and blown a hole through the settlement wall to enact their heist of the now-rare confectionaries. They’d managed to get away, but only after losing a few Legends. Still, it had been worth it. They now had accurate intelligence about their enemies’ defence capabilities.

And Jason had made his daughter smile.

The gunfire outside had neared, and now it sounded like they were fighting on the other side of the wall. He sighed.

“Baby, I’m sorry to interrupt your very important info dump on instabook, but the situation outside needs me. I’ll be back.”

She pouted again before he ruffled her hair and she couldn’t control her laughter.

“Fine, fine, go. But this isn’t over.”

Jason smirked.

“It never is.”

With that, he left the room and, calmly taking stock of his battle-readiness, nodded to himself before kicking the door open, revealing the battleground outside.

Men lay groaning and crying as they bled out from bullet holes, crossbow bolts and old-fashioned stab wounds in the crimson-stained streets.

Immediately, Jason started getting pelted by bullets from either side of the street. He shook his head, chuckling. These guys hadn’t learned about third Rung yet. His Legends had enacted a fighting retreat to get reinforcements and he told them he’d stay behind with Vicky and deal with the men that had chased them from Little Lisbon. But today was his girl’s day. She had earned the chance to rest.

He’d do it on his own.

Calmly walking towards the first group of assailants hidden behind concrete barricades, under a hail of gunfire, Jason quickly pulled up his status, to see how he was doing on the rankings.

Status.

Ascendant Status

Name: Jason Blake

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Title: Conqueror (+)

Ascendant Class: British Redcoat

Position: 2,014,517

Level: 3rd Rung

Bloodline Avatar: Coalescing…

Quintessence: Ascendant

Potency: A rivulet

Symbiosis: N/A

Faction: Victoria’s Court (+)

Skills (Bloodline):

N/A

Skills (Weapon):

Brown Bess:

· Musket Ball

· Volley Shot

· Rifled Shot

· Bayonet

Ultimate (Bloodline):

N/A

Flintlock Pistol

Hmm.

When he’d first hit third Rung and had his body reforged, he’d been around one millionth. This was two million potential Conquerors, just as powerful as him, all running around trying to do the same thing he was. The thought scared him. All of his abilities scaled, getting stronger with each Rung. How would Victoria survive in a world filled with fifth or sixth Rung Ascendants?

The only guarantee was power. She’d be safe, as long as he was strong enough.

Putting his hand out to the side and manifesting his [Brown Bess] musket, he set his war face on. These poor enemy Classless.

Aiming down the sights of his gun, he shot a [Musket Ball] directly into their barricade. As soon as it penetrated, the bullet expanded to the size of a beach ball before dissipating into golden sparks, leaving a gaping, crumbling hole in their defence. Jason waved at the shocked gunmen as he steadily approached.

He could only fire a [Musket Ball] or [Volley Shot] once every ten seconds, and a [Rifled Shot] once every minute, to say nothing of his pistol that had an even longer reload time, but the sheer offensive force of his weapon skills made up for their difficulty of use. And there was always his trusty [Bayonet].

Bullets peppered his back as he aimed over the destroyed barricade at the now running gunmen. With a [Volley Shot] that doused the area in gunsmoke, they all collapsed into bloody messes, shot to pieces by the mass of illusory muskets that appeared around the grinning man.

His eyes piercing through the persistent, obscuring smoke of his skill, he saw the gunmen on the other end of the street searching around for him, firing blindly into the cloud.

Activating his [Rifled Shot], his vision telescoped in, focusing on the face of one of his panicking assailants. He was a boy, probably no older than Vicky. Jason set his mouth in a grim line.

He squeezed the trigger.

The youthful face turned into a bloody gushing crater as the high speed lead ball zipped across the street, smacking into the boy’s skull with a wet slap.

His friends yelled, redoubling their efforts to shoot him within the cloud of smoke.

First rule of warfare: Don’t pick fights with people stronger than you.

He considered just walking through their bullets, but no doubt one or two would get wise enough to simply run and report back to their Hegemon. He refused to give up any information advantage, no matter how small. Everyone that had followed them into this abandoned town had to die.

Raising his musket again, he unleashed another [Volley Shot] and smoke rolled over the gunmen’s position, covering them completely.

Crouching down low, Jason tensed, before launching himself forward towards the other barricade. Blinded by the smoke, the first they knew of his presence was the glow of his red-hot [Bayonet].

Then the screaming started.

Contrary to popular belief, stabbing someone with a searing hot weapon doesn’t simply cauterize the wound. In reality, the tissue melted and fused around the blade, and when he pulled it out, a large chunk of flesh came with it.

The gunmen learned this intimately.

Once the last of them had been dropped, Jason went on the hunt. He was sure there were a few Legends hanging around and they couldn’t be allowed to leave.

He kept to the shadows, hiding in alleys and ducking behind buildings as he carefully combed the town for enemy Legends. He couldn’t treat them with the same nonchalance he had the Classless.

Coming upon two Legends, a [Light Spearman] and a [Heavy Dragoon] by the look of their loadout, sitting in an ancient-looking jeep and chatting, Jason got ready to ruin their day.

These guys have a working car? What a great find!

Humming satisfactorily, he zeroed in on the [Light Spearman]’s head and squeezed. Feeling the familiar tug on his quintessence as the infinite well within his soul released a small rivulet of power, the [Rifled Shot] sped across the intervening space and turned the man’s head into a pink mist with bright red blood fountaining out of the stump of his neck as the headless torso slumped onto his friend.

The Legend with him screamed, pushing the corpse off him and activating a skill to start the car!

Did he claim it with a [Rider’s Bond]? How is that even possible?

The man didn’t get a chance to do anything else as Jason landed heavily in the back of the jeep and shoved his burning [Bayonet] through the back of his skull. Immediately the jeep fell silent and even lost a light sheen that Jason now realised it had possessed.

All the other cars he’d seen had been completely killed, probably because of all the microchips in everything, but this jeep from the eighties had an honest to goodness carburettor instead of a computer inside it. And he’d just seen that Cavalry Legends could claim one.

Shouts sounded from behind the nearby buildings.

The rest of the Legends most likely.

The child in him wanted to sit down and play with this blast from the past. He still had happy memories of helping his father work on his own jeep. But enemies were approaching, there was no time for reminiscing.

Keeping his [Brown Bess] raised, he listened for steps, before turning and firing a [Musket Ball] at a Legend that had just rounded a corner, running at him. The projectile took him in the chest, then expanded, displacing him into disparate meaty chunks with a squelch.

Four more Legends sprinted round the corner at the scarlet-clad soldier, and he stood where he was, waiting until they were nearly upon him before bursting into motion.

Shoving his burning [Bayonet] deep through one’s gut, he lifted the groaning man and threw him bodily at one of his friends, tearing out his weapon along with a decent amount of the man’s abdominal flesh, before swivelling his head and seeing a shimmering sword come thrusting at his torso.

Getting stabbed through the chest was a weird feeling. One usually didn’t feel anything inside one’s lungs aside from air and occasionally smoke. Going from a lifetime of that to suddenly having to adjust for thirty inches of cold steel sliding between your ribs was jarring to say the least.

But he didn’t get the heart.

Twisting, ripping the sword out of his assailant’s grip, Jason laughed as he kicked the man away, then brought his [Brown Bess] around and unloaded a [Volley Shot] from close-range. Both of his remaining attackers were riddled with holes and collapsed where they stood as smoke inundated the street.

Wincing, he pulled the sword out of his chest and threw it aside as his energy got to work healing the damage. Looking around for the attacker he’d dropped with the body of his friend, Jason activated his [Bayonet] skill and the sharp blade began glowing an ominous red within the cloud. The survivor panicked.

“No no please don’t use that on me! Please!”

Attention snapping towards the Legend’s position on the floor, Jason saw the man trying to crawl away. It looked like his leg was broken.

He stepped towards him.

“WAIT! Wait, please, I- I can be useful! I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, please! Anything!”

Jason paused.

“What’s your Hegemon’s Class?”

The man almost tripped over his words, rushing to answer.

“He’s a [Portuguese Conquistador]! He’s only second Rung, but we invaded a Partition where the native Ascendants hadn’t killed their original Hegemon yet, so we gained our settlement! He left in the morning to survey the territory, he should be back soon! Please, don’t kill me!”

Jason considered the info. He stepped forward again.

“WAIT WAIT NO please! I know lots! Everything in fact! I know this entire part of Mozambique like the back of my hand! Please, I- I can be your sp- urk-”

Gurgling with his final breath, the man’s pleas died with him as Jason ended things, the smell of roasting meat filling the air as he pulled his [Bayonet] free of the man’s chest.

Second Rung? They’re lucky they haven’t already been gobbled up.

Jason was slowly expanding his faction’s territory and they were starting to come up against other third Rung Ascendants who’d also taken over their local area. The fact that they’d managed to stay autonomous for this long with only a second Rung at their helm, especially with such a large stockpile of food, was nothing short of a miracle.

Still, all good things must come to an end.

The pitter-patter of steps interrupted his musings, making him turn, musket raised.

He lowered it with a smile, as Vicky rounded the corner, her twin machetes dripping with blood, and caramel face scrunched up in frustration.

“What are you doing out here, pumpkin? You should be enjoying your cupcakes.”

Her eyes flashed to the bodies around him before responding.

“I tried, but a Legend busted the door in, after you nearly took it off its hinges might I add, and I had to zero him. He had a friend waiting outside so I decided to go after him instead of waiting, but he got away.”

Jason tutted.

“First rule of warfare, kid: Don’t give away the high ground. You could’ve waited for him to come check on his friend and he wouldn’t have gotten away, you had the better position.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You say everything is the ‘first rule’ of warfare. Does war even have a second rule?”

Jason smirked.

“Maybe you’ll learn it one day.”

She was about to respond before the pair were interrupted by one of their men returning.

“Sir, we managed to free up two teams of [Gunners] and a team of [Engineers]. We’re moving in on Little Lisbon as we speak with a force of fifty Infantry, twenty Cavalry and eighty armed Classless.”

Jason nodded in approval.

“Good, I have some more information regarding the assault, but I’ll tell the generals when I get there. Updates on the food situation?”

The man grimaced.

“More mouths trickle in every hour. Word is spreading that our territory is safe, so we have an increasing number of refugees, but our [Primitive Greenhouse] can’t keep up. Our current estimates are that it’ll take a week for this next harvest to finish, but assuming we continue growing at our current rate, once it’s harvested, it’ll feed us for a day.”

Vicky frowned.

“So this is what we’re here for? To fix our food problems?”

The man glanced at Jason, who nodded.

“Yes, miss Victoria. The settlement we’re about to attack has enough food to last us another week, even taking into account growth. With that time, we can invade other Partitions, recruit more [Farmers], find more caches, all sorts of things.”

Jason watched her reaction, waiting to see what she would do.

Taking a deep breath, she set her jaw.

“I want to be a part of the attack this time.”

Silently rejoicing, Jason only outwardly nodded in approval. He was never going to pressure her into anything, but it was her day. The fact that she had chosen to spend it with him had warmed his heart, even when he’d told her that they were scouting out a potential new conflict zone. And now, instead of going back to their settlement like she usually did, she was going to assault the town with him?

Apocalypse or not, Jason was having an amazing day.

He asked one more question.

“And more long-term? We made any progress on that?”

The man wrung his hands.

“Yes sir, one of the scouts you sent returned last night.”

“One?”

“Yes sir. He said they found the bunker, but there was a complication…”