Zan and Jiehong made it back to the command center in one piece.

It was early evening by the time they crossed into the camp. Zan wanted to check-in with the village elders. With his tired body, however, he was nearly ready for bed.

Considering the camp had not burned to the ground in their absence, he figured everyone was good. He would get the lowdown from the Wardens.

“I need to go check in on my parents,” Jiehong said. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be in the command center,” Zan replied.

Entering the war room, Sigma-Prime greeted him right away with a warm welcome. Screen Master Simulcrum gave a similar hearty welcome as he entered.

“We’re back! Holy shit… so much happened!” Zan exclaimed.

“We know. Our machines here gave us status readings of your conditions throughout the mission. We saw some incredible spikes. The power of the Shiv is acclimating well to your body.”

Zan explained everything which happened to him during the mission. Most importantly, he dwelled on the final un-as-of-yet-explained phenomena at the end, where the mysterious cacoon enveloped him within a fiery tomb.

The Screen Master spoke first and said, “Zan, congratulations. The power you’ve experienced is the core of a Ranger’s abilities. We call such a power ‘Shining.’ Ranger-Knights throughout times experience the power differently. What each Ranger-Knight has in common, however, is Shining only activates in times of great distress. Until you learn how to master the power, you cannot call on it unless circumstances push you to your limit.”

Shining? Zan repeated to himself. My absolute limit? How do I plan for that?

“So… what is Shining, specifically?” Zan asked.

“It is when the crystal core of the life-form within you heats into overdrive in order to protect you during trying battles. It is an attempt by the crystal within your belly to fully integrate with you and become one with you. However, full symbiosis is impossible. So it will always recede back into you, leaving you autonomous, but at the expense of its power withdrawing. With a great deal of training, you will be able to call on this near-symbiosis anytime you desire. But specialist training will be required before such is a tactic you can depend on in battle,” the Screen Master spoke.

Taking all the new information in, Zan wondered about many things. He wondered about previous Ranger-Knights, what their powers were, and all the more, how many Ranger-Knights actually trained themselves to call upon ‘Shining’ whenever the fighting demanded.

Zan did not ask these things, however. He was tired. Such answers would come to him, eventually. When the time was right.

“Okay… I am pooped. Time for me to hit the hay,” Zan said.

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“Before you do, we have updates on the status of the command center. We also have updates on the status of the civilian population. Which do you wish to hear first?” Sigma-Prime said.

“Civilians… I guess,” Zan replied. The tiredness hit him brazenly. He really needed to rest, to sleep. Have some ‘personal time.’

“Implementing your desires, we sent out a notification to the camp regarding everyone needing to pull together and contribute a small service to the camp. Most people did not have a problem with this, but some did; of those people who took offense to the ‘tax,’ they have left. We have located a chef for you and for the people who lack culinary talents or who experience medical conditions, making them incapable of preparing their own food. We have ordered your personal chef to stand ready in the kitchen to take your order three times per day. One for breakfast, one for lunch, one for dinner. We have also informed him about your erratic schedule and how, if you do not show, they are to make a dish of moderate consumption appeal for your later consumption. Is this fine?” Sigma-Prime asked.

Sigma-Prime spoke a lot of words. Words which were becoming increasingly hard, irrelevant, even, to follow in his tired state. He shook his head positively, though, and said, “Sounds wonderful. I will expect a full breakfast in the morning, then. How many people left?”

“Approximately two-dozen people,” Sigma-Prime replied.

Two-dozen?! Zan thought. He said, “Where did those people go? Do they have protection, w-what?”

Now it was the Screen Master who spoke and said, “I do not know where they went, but through the use of the center’s security cameras, I saw several warriors among their ranks while leaving the camp perimeter. The ones who left have as much protection as anyone else who dares to wander among the roads of this nation while under assault.”

“Did they seem angry?” Zan asked.

Responding definitively, the Screen Master said, “Yes, they were angry. Of the people who left, many seemed economically well endowed and believed them undertaking labor was an insult to their class. Insult or not, Zan, it is important for you to recognize protecting civilians is not the typically expected function of this command center. In times like now, everyone must band together for survival. Those who refuse the labor of caring for their neighbor have no role, here.”

Hearing the Screen Master speak, Zan thought of Jiehong’s parents. Technically, his guardians. They left as well. Supposedly to some rich eccentric’s bunker, but who knows if that was really the case. Zan had not seen them since the argument. Within, though, Zan knew, and had to remind himself, of how Jiehong’s parents left because he and they had a fight. Not because the Wardens asked them to perform a trivial amount of labor… though Zan knew they likely would have a problem with that as well. His point stood.

“Okay… well… I guess a couple dozen fewer mouths to feed is never a bad thing, right?” Zan asked. “You said you had an update about the command center as well?”

Sigma-Prime took the conversational reins this time and said, “Yes! We’ve made many repairs in the time you’ve been away. Our systems can again access the Backroads!”

“Very cool…” Zan said, wiping the tired from his eyes, but the tired always finding its way back to his eyes. “What does that mean for us? You mentioned, I think, it was a means of travel?”

“That is correct! The Backroads are an Eldritch form of travel accessible to mortals when certain parameters become fulfilled. Long ago, our engineers devised such parameters, and we gained access to the Backroads. Soon, they will become accessible to you and your budding Ranger-core.”

Nice… was all Zan could say. As he stood, his feet swung from side-to-side. A lame attempt to stave off sleepiness.

“I’m going to bed… let’s continue this in the morning. After I’ve eaten,” Zan said, ending the conversation.

Accepting his need for sleep, the Wardens acquiesced and Zan wandered off to the barracks to fit in his sleep.

When he woke, everything seemed ordinary. He stretched, blew his nose, and was ready for a meal when he opened his door and stubbed his foot on something.

Yelping like a dog, Zan looked to the floor to see what he had stubbed it on.

In front of his door was a package.