For the next few hours Zan traversed the golem-covered land.

Though the invasion host which appeared suddenly was grand, no doubt, they did not take notice of Zan as he biked within the tree line, next to them, but unseen in the shade. His path was practically a leisure cruise until he came upon the limits of the enemy host. By here, scouting parties took control of the land.

Troop transports fitted with large fire-powered searchlights systematically swept the land. Zan saw their patrols and knew he would have to time his movements to move within the shadows of their treads. He would have liked to take his time here and truly note the movement patterns of the dozens of vehicles sweeping the land for... stragglers? Zan wasn't sure.

He didn't have the time to properly observe, so he took--

Before Zan could step beyond the borders of the moving host, he felt lightheaded. Wavering, Zan heard a System notification: [Targets Acquired: Mode of Engagement: Select One: Destruction OR Evasion?]

Now there was something, Zan thought. Zan knew he couldn't engage. Though the further away from the 'body' of the vast and never stopping host of invaders he gained, Zan could not afford to take any of them by surprise. Practically unlimited reinforcements were just a call away. He would need to evade these patrol transports. Beside from their iteral firepower, Zan told himself, each transport was filled with at least a dozen automotron soldiers. Engagement meant death.

"System: Select Evasion. Enter," Zan told the System.

"Confirmed. Evasion. Calculating route."

Zan let the System do what it needed to do, so he waited in the dusk of a hastily constructed enemy supply tent. Or more accurately, the wooden fence slammed together to its back to protect against the threat of loyalist raiders. Or something. Zan did not know the designs of the enemy or how they thought battle strategy wise.

Ahead, then, Zan saw a dozen odd points flash into existence within his HUD's range. Each point marked a troop transport. Zan wanted a moment to gleam any patterns to how the transports moved, but as both he and the System knew, he didn't have the time, not if he wanted to outpace the enemy before he keeled over and died. The System said, "Recommend Movement now to avoid enemy detection."

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Acting, Zan shot out from his place and biked forward.

Another System voice message: "Sharp left turn, now!"

Following the System without thinking, Zan violently turned his bike. He sped ahead just enough to avoid a transport's searchlights.

"Do not slow down," the System said through a voice speak function. "Faster! Peddle ahead approximate number of paces."

Again, Zan followed his instructions. "Turn!" and he turned. "Slow down. Stop. Go. Stay true."

Falling into a pattern the further he biked away from the host and through the combing searchlights, Zan felt as though he were a bat in the night. He was a heroic fella, straying from the horde to go on a special quest. Or so he pretended as he lost himself to hours or robotically following directions to a system fused to his mind. It did help, but at what cost? Mentally speaking.

"Hostiles Clear," the System said once a good fifteen minutes eloped without encountering a golem transport.

"Okay..." Zan muttered. Talking the problem out, "I know my allies have been through the way I have been walking. Both my HUD, backed by the Screen Master, know this is the way, along with my own intuition telling me this is the way, intuitions I gained from my pre-war life and intuition from seeing horse treadings upon the ground. "If I keep this way, I will find them. But before I do, please, by the gods will, let me find another fruit. I'm so hungry again, why?!"

A minor eternity passed. For Zan, it felt as though he had been walking in the twilight silt sun forever. He met with ghosts in the dark and tread alongside spirits wandering a different path. When the sun rose, though, Zan remained by himself and ready to receive help.

Finally, help came.

in the distance, Whiskey rode hard on her stead. Zan could tell she was driving the poor creature to its limit for the impressive dust cloud generated in its wake. Zan ran and wanted to catch up and to meet her half-way. Reaching him, Whiskey trotted her beast to a gentle stop and swept Zan up for a platonic hug.

Releasing himself from Whiskey's well-kept embrace, Zan grabbed her shoulders and simply looked her in her face. "Missed me?" Zan said.

"Yes. I did. You're a great novice fighter, Zan, and this Order of yours is going to be important for all of us fighting the Expanse. I can feel it. I couldn't leave you to fend for yourself out in the wilds and invader fiends. So, that being said, I am super impressed with you. I thought you would be way closer to the villa. Instead, you're practically home free!" Whiskey said to Zan's immense delight.

"Yeah. I lost a day asleep in the dirt. Then part of another day searching for food. Short story, but tedious, I assure you," Zan said, lighthearted for once now he was again in the presence of a friend.

"You're a trooper, Zan. Let's get you back with the others. Jiehong is up but he is a mess without you. Not like he would admit it, though. Freaking boys, I swear," Whiskey said, laughing as she helped Zan on her horse.