Standing in front of the transparent barrier was slightly awkward. We couldn't hear each other whatsoever, so all they could do was stare at the blood-soaked killing machine carrying a pallid cripple in a princess carry.

It was an interesting assortment of people. I could see a young man in a suit, an old woman with an AK-47, a native African clutching a spear, looking very confused, and on and on. Most of them were arguing. Or gesturing, as I imagine a lot of them didn't speak the same language. I looked for the ones that the others looked to, and found them immediately.

The aforementioned young man in a suit was the de-facto leader, by virtue of being young and wearing a suit, presumably.

An older man, a veteran by the way he carries himself, who seemed to be meditating as much as he could.

A middle-aged man wearing Multicam, loose grip on his m4 betraying a weariness that only war could teach.

I wish I could hear the words, but I could guess. People deciding to let us in or not, and the young man fostering indecisiveness in an attempt to meditate. Some things never change.

"How are we going to get inside?" asked Goro, assuming that I had the answer.

I did. I could see the barrier in its essence, thousands of threads woven tighter than anything could be, capable of bending when needed, but never breaking. It made kevlar look like play-dough.

But it had a weakness. Several, in fact. A person, energy originating from within the building. As with most of the best creations, the most obvious failure point was the human, and it showed in the unraveling of the threads. An uneven distribution of power, a lapse in focus, a skill given instead of earned.

I pointed at a particular spot. "Stab it."

Goro did so, much to the chagrin of the people directly on the other side, who found themselves inches away from red-stained steel, as the blade simply passed through without effort. With a rather satisfying sound of breaking glass, the entire barrier shattered, fragments fading into nothing.

It's too bad I didn't get the hear the argument, because they all shut up at that moment.

It was better to speak first before the paranoia caught up with them. "Hello everybody!" I yelled, waving from my perch. "My name is James. This is Goro. Say hello, Goro."

"Hello," said Goro.

Most of the fine people's gazes shot towards the man in a suit, passing the conversational hot potato to him. He froze in indecision for a moment, deciding if I was a threat or not, and I used that chance to speak first, sincerity and concern lacing my every word.

"The creatures attacking you are all dead. As much as I'd love to get to know you all, I saw some survivors on my way here. It is imperative that we secure the area and begin rescue operations immediately. Every second counts! I don't need to remind you all that this is an emergency!"

I looked directly to the man in uniform. "How many functional vehicles do you guys have access to?"

He answered immediately. "Five sedans, Two flat-bed trucks, and one motorcycle. The rest are damaged or out of fuel."

Suit-guy finally caught up with the situation, and tried to speak. "Wait a moment, what are-"

I ignored him, looking to the older man. "How many search parties do you think you could organize?"

He too, answered immediately, already having thought about it. "Three at best, though not without some language barriers."

I turned to the angry-looking babushka next, and spoke in Russian. "Have you checked the building for food stores? Do we have enough for the people here?"

She nodded. "There's a kitchen by the entrance, fully stocked. Nobody will go hungry so long as I still live."

"Wait!" yelled the suit-guy, finally losing his patience. "Who are you to order us around? It's too dangerous to go outside!"

The first part was the real complaint, the second was the justification for it. It takes a special kind of dibshit to try to argue about authority in a situation like this, but luckily I've made a career of dipshit wrangling.

"My friend Goro already cut off the source for this area. Give it 5 more seconds and it will clear up all at once."

Everybody that spoke English immediately looked up, and the rest followed their example. The sky looked as red as ever, giant eye still staring down at the world.

The young man in a suit stamped his feet, much like a 10-year-old would. "How could you know that? Are you and your friend a monster too?! We saw that violence, no human being would be capable-"

And in a beautiful example of perfect timing, the all-seeing eye simply...closed, then disappeared in an instant. The sky turned from red to blue, eliciting several groans as people found themselves staring at the sun.

"When the beholder closes its eye, that means this region is no longer within its domain. What few monsters remain will be weakened, enough for a group of people with guns to handle themselves. Now is the time to take action. I'll explain what I can once we are safe, now chop to it people!"

And they did. In moments like these, full of questions and fear, it is easier to work on simple concrete goals, as opposed to worrying or trying to understand things they cannot. In disasters and danger, there are certain people who others are drawn to, beacons of confidence or competence.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Here, it was the veteran, the army man, and the old Russian lady. Amongst the dozens of varied faces here, those shone the brightest. Literally.

For all three of them held the inklings of a core. Fragile and ephemeral, but it was there.

Technically, the entire crowd did. But much like the meat paste blondie from earlier, I couldn't even call it fragile. It was so thin to be nonexistent, as if to be ambient.

The crowd once again became noisy, but in a good way, as everybody took action together. The man in a suit just stood there, struggling with the realization that this was a good thing, and that he didn't like it. Of course, I couldn’t read minds. Maybe I had him pegged wrong, and he was just trying to help.

But i doubt it.

I cleared my throat and spoke to the suit-wearing kid. "By the way, who made that barrier?"

The young man frowned in confusion. "What?"

I shook my head. "Nevermind. Why don't you make yourself useful and show me to the triage tents."

He frowned harder. "We don't have any."

I just groaned.

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

The building wasn't the same tower that Goro recognized. It looked like it on the outside, but it simply wasn't. It would seem that it was shuffled much like the rest of the world was, floors and hallways leading to places that only the most obnoxious floor planner would even consider, to the point where i wasn't quite sure that the load-bearing walls were where they should be.

Despite that, it clearly had the touch of intelligent design to it. Or better yet, random within specific confines. The reason for this hypothesis was simple.

It was too perfect of a shelter.

It had...everything we needed. Right on the first damn floor. A mess hall, with a fully stocked kitchen, including fresh ingredients. Barracks and apartments. A foyer, a play room filled with various implements like pool tables or gaming consoles. Running water, electricity, showers, etc etc.

It even had a god-damn armory, which was the most obvious indicator of it being unnatural. It was just sitting there, right next to the game room, as if every building should have an all-access armory filled with almost every type of ammunition i’ve even heard of, and one hell of an assortment of guns as well. We’d probably have to install a gate or something, because all that stopped people from just walking in was a wooden door.

Despite that, it was truly a safe haven. Other than the occasional monster and death trap. One of the showers had a very confused orc trapped in it, the only ps5 was a hungry mimic, and the bathtub in the left wing was a pitfall into punji sticks.

Through the center of the building was a spiral staircase, which was the only way up and down, as the elevators tried to convert me to Scientology, and weren't willing to move until I agreed. The basement door didn't open despite Goro's best efforts, and the second floor was pitch black, with an ominous mist permeating the halls, topped off with low whispering and vague hints of movement.

So, obviously, we left that for later.

We did have a medical wing, offices and wardrooms abundant. It's just that the entire wing was hidden behind a massive painting of a familiar Jester, with razor-blades emerging out of the sides if you tried to move it.

I don't know what I'd do without Goro. Actually, not quite true. I'd just die.

So, yeah. Almost perfect. Just a few teensy weensy flaws. Nothing a little scouting and warning signs couldn't solve. Keep an eye on your kids, everybody! They might just get eaten by the plumbing.

While most of the people were huddled in the foyer or scouting about, I did a little 'grooming'. It was nice to be clean again, but I had little time for leisure.

"I don't need you to carry me," I said. "Crutches exist for a reason."

Goro scratched his head awkwardly. "If you say so. I’m… sorry about your leg..."

I looked down at my stump, which wasn't bleeding as much as it should have been. Likely because I was just about out of blood at this point, possibly literally. It's unbelievable that my heart was still pumping, but I suspect it was running more off of magic than meat anyway.

"Eh, at least it wasn't an arm. I don't have any intentions of running around and stabbing monsters, and prosthetics exist."

Goro shook his head. "If you say so. Shouldn’t you be more upset?"

Hmmm. He phased it in a way that sounded more like a genuine question instead of a criticism. I'd have to figure out what makes this kid tick eventually. "It would be, for most," I explained. “I’m just reasonably confident I can magic that problem away eventually. Besides, it's below the knee, so the prothetic won’t need to be all that complicated.”

"Oh. That makes sense."

No, it didn’t. Losing a limb is traumatic for anybody. But I could make it work, considering I didn’t have to worry about pain.

Eventually, I found myself standing outside of an inconspicuous door, tucked in a corner deep into the building. The traces of energy led straight here. "This is the place. Do you mind?" I asked.

He nodded, then kicked the metal door in, hard enough to crumple the entire doorframe. I heard a squeal of fear and scampering from within the shadows.

"Not quite what I meant," I complained. "But thanks."

The darkness stretched for longer than it should of. It seemed to be a storage room of sorts, and judging from the draft, I'm pretty sure there was a massive hole in the ceiling. But I didn't have time to dwell on that, as I could see a core, and a person by extension, tucked into the corner.

It was...ugly, twisted. Whereas Goro was bright red flames, this one was cold, dead, and grey. It barely fluctuated, even as the owner tried to sneakily crawl across the floor. It was clearly a woman, as I could see her musculature even in the darkness...though, uh...

It didn't look pretty. I slapped the wall a few times, feeling for a light switch, before I found one and flipped it.

There was another yelp as the young woman shielded her eyes with her hands, and Goro tensed at the somewhat terrifying sight.

She was skinny, and wore a long, ragged, and suspiciously stained white dress. She looked Asian, Japanese probably, with obnoxiously long black hair.

None of these details really registered, though, considering she was something around eight feet tall.

She cowered, still crawling about on the floor. It should have stimulated some protective instincts, but all it did was creep us out. Goro looked to me, question in his eyes, and I waved him back with my crutch.

I'm confident she was human. Or, at the very least, not a monster. There are fundamental differences in the cores, though I'd admit my sample size is questionable at best. I can see how her energy stretches across her body, crawling through her bones and viscera...enriching them. I suspect her height is a consequence of that.

Well, no guarantees she wasn't just some kind of new monster, but I'm not a shoot first kinda guy.

"Hello there," I said. "We aren't going to hurt you."

Goro stepped back, and the girl peeked between fingertips, visibly shaking. She looked confused. Well, I could see confusion in her eyes. Her face was completely obscured by her hair and hands, somehow.

"What's your name?" I asked. No answer.

"What's your name?" I asked in Japanese.

A spark of recognition. "A-Akiko... are you a monster?" she asked, voice surprisingly soft.

I smiled reassuringly. "No. Are you?"

She proceeded to cry, which soon turned into outright bawling. I thought to try to comfort her, but I wasn't given a chance.

In an explosion of movement, she rose to full height, head and shoulders obscured by the hole in the ceiling. She was gone in a moment, scampering through the hole in a tangle of limbs.

We both just stared at the place where she was. Goro shook his head slowly. "That's going to be the new normal, isn't it?"

I looked to the hole in the ceiling and murmured to myself. "Yep. This is going to be such a pain in the ass."