“Skills are integral to every arcanist’s arsenal, but make no mistake. They are only a frame of action. It has no bearing on natural inclination, mental images, and preconceptions.

That also means you don’t have to have a skill to accomplish a task, ordinary or extraordinary.”

~Collegiate Hafner Soulard

“Goddamn.” Ken whistled as Devin approached the group. “This looks even worse than it did last night.”

“That’s what happens when there are no firefighters to put out any fires.” Devin gave an exhausted smile to the twins and the two soldiers behind them.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Devin.” He said to the soldiers, his right hand extended towards them.

“Specialist Jenkins.”“Corporal Walters.” The female and male soldiers introduced themselves respectively, polite enough to shake his hand, but still keeping a close eye on the surroundings.

“What the hell happened here? Looks like someone dumped napalm all over the place.” Jenkins asked bluntly.

“Boss monster,” Devin answered quickly, not elaborating despite the soldiers’ questioning looks. “Are we all ready to go?”

“Where to?” Walters asked “These two didn’t give us any plans, just saying we’re heading out of town.”

“Don’t blame them, I hadn’t told them yet.” Devin turned to give the house he grew up in another once over, despite the pangs in his chest he felt at seeing such destruction. “We’re heading to the lake a couple miles north of here.”

“Why?” The Corporal eyed Devin critically. “We’re not here to waste resources and manpower on a day at the beach. We are strictly here to assist in hunting and collecting shards.”

“Well if you stop being a jackass and let me speak, I’ll tell you my plan.” Devin glared at the soldier who just glared back.

“Boys, calm down,” Jenkins said, inserting herself into the conversation. “Let’s just see where this goes, Corporal. I need a break from guarding the fence either way.”

Walters sighed. “Okay, show us the way.”

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

After a relatively silent trek, the tall trees gave way to a rocky lakeshore. The freshwater was reinvigorated as Devin laid eyes on Jon’s Bait and Tackle which looked just the same as it did the last time he saw it.

Been over a decade, Devin shook his head. Geez, that makes me feel old.

A worn down wooden cabin covered in cracks and mold with a neon sign that didn’t work now, or ever as far as Devin was aware. It was vividly nostalgic for him; he could almost picture him and his father spending time together at various spots around the lake, talking endlessly about nothing while they fished. The memory brought a smile to his face.

Which promptly vanished as he watched CPL Walters break through the locked glass doors.

“Corporal!” Jenkins yelled, making Walter flinch and pause in his tracks.

“What?” He looked back innocently. “No one’s home and we need these supplies.”

Devin pushed past the two. “He’s right. This ain’t the time to be a law-abiding citizen.”

The first thing Devin noticed when he walked in was the amount of dust everywhere. It caked the floors, counters, and racks, some even flew as his passage kicked the stuff into the air. Devin coughed, opting to cover his face with his dirty shirt rather than breathe in mold and dust.

Their footprints were the first to disturb the dust as they searched through the store for what they needed. There isn’t one sign of life here, Devin thought to himself. It’s clear that no one’s been here in months. Possibly years.

Maybe Jon made it out before the world ended. Maybe he was able to spend those last peaceful moments with his family. Devin hoped. Jon was an old man when he was a kid—the new world wasn’t kind to people who can’t keep up.

“How do we know this will even work?” Walters complained from the doorway, both of the soldiers serving as the lookout while the others searched the store.

“Give it a chance instead of constantly doubting someone you just met. It’ll work, just depends on how powerful the fish in the lake are—same as when you’re hunting animals in the forest.”

“You can hunt monsters; you can’t track a fish,” Walters grumbled. “How do we even know a big ass fish boss won’t jump out and drown us all.”

“You’re right about that,” Devin said from across multiple aisles. “That’s why we're going to be careful. You wouldn’t stomp around the woods yelling at the top of the woods, would you?”

“I guess not.” Walters conceded.

“Besides, we’re not wasting time hunting for one beast all day. All we need is the right bait.” Devin said, slamming a few empty buckets onto the counter with the rest of the stuff they were gathering.

“How did you even figure out fish give out shards?” Ken asked from the other side of the store.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Had to eat somehow on the way here.” Devin shrugged. “It was either fish while I traveled, or hope that someone would take pity and feed me. Didn’t even know they would drop shards until after a while. It’s hard to find a single shard in a whole fish if you’re not looking for it.”

“You’re wasting precious resources for one or two shards?” Walters asked harshly. “Why are you wasting our time when there are tons of mutant corpses for you to look through?”

“‘Cause everything has already been looted.” Devin scoffed. “Don’t think I didn’t see you soldiers going around picking up shards before telling anyone it was safe.”

“And who are you for us to—”

“Walters! Stop being such an ass!” Jenkins cut him off before sighing, “Ignore him, he’s just cranky for pulling triple shifts.”

“No worries, I understand.” Devin said as he grabbed nets, lines, hooks, and bait, stuffing them in the buckets.

Walters gave Devin a reproachful look. “Why are you taking all that? We can’t carry all this while keeping guard.”

Devin held his gaze, looking him straight in the eye. “The lake is literally right there. It’s only three buckets. Me and the twins can carry each with one hand and still be good. If you have a problem with how we handle things, speak up or kick rocks.”

Walters returned his stare for a moment, before breaking eye contact with a scoff. “No problem here. Just following orders.”

“I don’t know who’s, but I don’t need you here. Both of you can go back for all I care. You can sit behind that wall while we collect easy shards.” Devin said.

Walters wisely shut his mouth.

“Have you ever wondered how the sausage was made? What about making some of your own?” Jenkins read aloud from a magazine she found lying around the entrance.

Except for Walters, everyone had a couple of souvenirs. Even Ben carried a fishing weight.

I don’t know what the hell he’s going to do with those, but I’m glad he’s enjoying himself. The teenager didn’t talk much, unlike his brother, but Devin liked to think he could read his mostly blank face.

“Who the hell reads any of this stuff?” Jenkins asked with her face twisted in disgust.

“Would you be surprised if said old men looking to get away from home?” Devin answered.

“You don’t say…” Jenkins turned the magazine sideways and examined it like she was looking at abstract art. “I think I can see what all the hype is about.”

“Whatcha looking at?” Ken asked, trying to see the picture around the corner of the page.

“The meat before the sausage. Want to see the deer’s lifeless eyes and the sausage they made it with?” Jenkins asked, but didn’t wait for an answer, shoving the picture into the teen’s face.

“Ugh, yuck!” Ken turned around, covering his face from her incessant attempts to show him.

“Two peas in a pod.” Walters shook his head at their antics.

“Stop messing around, and come on. Y’all can play around once we set up the traps.” Devin said, carrying two of the buckets onto the graveled beach.

They set up a temporary camp a few yards away from the water, in a spot clear of any obstacles on all sides. No buildings or trees to disrupt sightlines, and just shallow waters filled with fish—so much so that Devin saw a school of them swimming near the shore.

Perfect.

“Ok, Ken and Ben, help me set everything up while the soldiers do their job.”

Jenkins perked up. “I can—”

“No. He’s right, Specialist.” Walters cut in. “Let's check around the area, and make sure there isn’t anything out of the ordinary.” He gave Devin another long look before walking away with Jenkins in tow, their rifles held to their chest where they could easily switch from relaxing to aiming.

“Wow, that guy does not like you.” Ken noticed.

“So it's not just me that sees his bullshit?”

“No,” said Ben. “He’s been weird since we got your house—what’s left of it anyways”

“Yeah, what’s left of it.” Devin’s mood dropped as he was reminded. He pivoted his eyes to the corporal’s back, who seemed to sense his gaze as he turned back to meet it. “As long as he doesn’t get in the way, or put us in danger.”

Devin popped open the buckets, placing the dry mealworms next to the fishing lines, hooks, stakes, and nets. “Okay. I need one of you to cast the net and get some bait fish so we can start catching the bigger ones.

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

“Why the hell are you being such an asshole to them?” Jenkins grilled Walters as soon as they were alone.

“That man is suspicious.” He looked back at the man in question, who peered right back. “I just don’t like his vibe.”

Jenkins sighed, “Are you saying that because of your skill?”

“No. It’s just a feeling.” [Gut Feeling] didn’t tell Walters much, just that the man was dangerous.

“You think that about anyone in this rinky-dinky town that didn’t come here with us.” She crossed her arms and sighed.

She’s so cute when she does that, Walters smiled before shaking his head free of the thought.

“It’s more than that. That house he claimed was his,” Walters let his M-4 fall on its sling as he used his fingers to draw quotations in the air. “The place looked like someone set fire to everything after blasting it with artillery, yet we didn’t get any reports about a boss monster that fit that description. I should know, I went through every single one of them.”

“Get to the point.” Jenkins hurried.

“What I’m saying is that there is no way a weak super like him could handle a boss like that.”

“So what are you trying to get at? That he’s not who he says he is? That there is some super powerful mastermind protecting this guy?”

Yes! That was the only thing that made sense.

“I don't know.” Walters compromised. “All I know is that this guy is lying, and I’m not going to let his secrets drag me down, or get me killed.” He huffed.

Go ahead and trust those people like a fool. Walters chuckled. I want you to come begging for my help.

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

Jenkins shook her head at seeing her battle buddy so wound up. Even a superhuman like him is afraid. She couldn’t blame him. Her hands still shook from last night, while images of dead bodies seared into her eyelids. Although CPL Walters and many other soldiers were technically superhuman, there weren’t enough shards, cards, or resources to go around—at least that’s what Command said.

Jenkins called bullshit.

If every mutated animal dropped one shard each, the sheer numbers they put down last night alone might’ve been enough for half the battalion to gain the thousand shards they needed to make a magical circle.

Something fishy was going on. Jenkins knew it.

This morning’s formation, handouts, and missions were proof that not only did the battalion have the capability, but they were still employing half-measures.

“Giving us 500 shards and telling us to get the rest ourselves is pretty messed up, especially since we’re one duty twelve hours a day.” Jenkins complained as she patrolled her section of the shore. “If I knew it was going to be like this, I would’ve taken some shards on the way here too.”

It was so unfair. Jenkins was pretty sure it was just Charlie Company that was doing something so idiotic. Her friend from Bravo was celebrating her circle forging by drinking at the bar in town during her off-hours.

That makes me even more jealous. After a night like last, Jenkins could use a drink too.

Last night was the roughest one yet. Jenkins could still hear the ringing of gunfire in her ears. It would’ve all been different if she was a Super, or hell, at least had one on her squad.

Without such insurance, she watched a few soldiers fall to the horde of monsters. The only reason Jenkins was alive was because she could reload her gun faster.

If they let us keep what we killed, I’m sure a lot of us would’ve already been supers, cards and all. Jenkins didn’t even bother arguing about it anymore. There was always some BS cost for the Army to recuperate. She supposed she was lucky to get Walters with her on this assignment.

Many teams and squads didn’t even have one real superhuman. Not that Big Army exists anymore. Those fat, old geezers probably kicked the bucket as soon as the chaos broke out. Jenkins could only hope.

I guess I’m lucky they gave out ascension methods to us enlisted. It detailed the compression and construction processes for creating a magic circle, the mark that divided normies from supers.

All I need is a couple hundred more shards. She sighed, wondering how she was going to scrounge that much with the Command taking everything she reported.

“Devin! I got one, I got one!” A yell echoed over the lake, attracting Jenkins's attention.

The soldier watched as the three boys gathered around one of the poles, which jerked wildly in the younger boy’s grasp. She laughed as the older one—Devin—reprimanded the loudmouth twin with a chop to the head. Tension released in her back seeing them excitedly reel in the fish no bigger than her dainty hands.

That was until she saw the telltale flash of shard infusion as one of the younger boys brought a knife to its gills.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” She whispered to herself despite being alone. “It really works.”