The morning in Anchorage was typical of late September, with a lingering chill in the air and short break in the near constant rain. Overcast skies cast a muted grey light over the neighborhood, highlighting the damp streets still wet from the previous night’s drizzle.
To their surprise, though, they weren’t sure if it was positive or not. The world was mostly silent. Occasional gunfire in the distance interrupted that silence, but only for a moment. In the quiet, Derek and Marie were already busy. They double checked their supplies and started making preparations for a long-term survival situation.
Leaving the house, they walked down the neighborhood streets to visit their neighbors. The overwhelming pressure of the monster threat loomed around them. Every sound caused them to jump and point their rifles toward the sound. As they walked, they talked in hushed conversations. Their visits served two purposes. First, they wanted to build a sense of community among those who had survived. Second, they were looking for empty houses that might have supplies they all needed.
There would not be any more deliveries of food or goods. The more… intuitive would be out securing a future for them. Part of that was raiding gardening supplies and household goods from homes that were vacant.
Since the apocalypse level event started quite late in the day many, who were asleep, would wake to find that the world had been filled with monsters and it might take most even more time to figure out the system. News outlets were going crazy with the changes in information. They interface heavily policed what information was posted to news websites. It was kind of funny to find that the world’s news sources had been scrubbed clean of opinion and speculation. The only place where that kind of information was available was on forums and discussion boards. Any website, broadcast, or video was fact checked and information was redacted if the information was blatantly incorrect.
The neighbors were shaken about all the monsters and Derek and Marie took it upon themselves to setup a community meeting at their house for later in the day. Once the neighborhood had been informed and more or less introduced to the system, they headed home. There were a couple houses that had been broken into and the occupants slaughtered. Derek tried to shield Marie from as much of the brutality as possible, but she was a strong, independent woman who didn’t listen to her husband.
After the last door was closed and they turned away from the final house, Derek broke the silence that had settled between them. “That’s the last of them,” he muttered.
He kept track of what they discovered on their routes by making notes on a screenshot map of the neighborhood. He hadn’t known all of their neighbors. Derek was antisocial and a borderline hermit. Marie was the one who kept him attached to the world. He recorded names and other information on his interface for future reference. Marie nodded, her eyes sweeping over the quiet houses they’d left behind, windows dark, some with doors ajar—a stark reminder of those who wouldn’t be answering any more knocks.
She sighed, in an attempt to shed some of the grimness of their new reality. “It’s eerie, isn’t it? How quickly things just... stopped.” Her gaze met his, searching for some reassurance.
“Yeah,” Derek agreed, his voice low. “No more pizza deliveries or delivery trucks coming ‘round. We’re on our own now.”
Marie’s arms wrapped around herself. “What’s next, then?” she asked, the practicality of her nature pushing past the uncertainty.
Derek glanced back at the homes they’d checked, a strategic gleam in his eye. “We need to think about the long game—starting with which of these places we can... borrow from to keep going. No one’s going to ship in our survival.” His tone wasn’t callous, just matter-of-fact, the prepper mindset kicking in where normalcy had fallen away.
Marie nodded, showing she understood. “We should look for gardening supplies, tools, and anything else left behind,” she said, already thinking about what they might find. “We need to be smart about how we do this.”
Derek’s nod was resolute as they turned back towards home, their steps measured, their minds already planning for the days ahead. The streets were unusually quiet, eerily so. Derek paused, a prickling sense of unease crawling up his spine. The silence was pervasive, as if even the birds sensed a looming threat. He scanned the houses, instinctively feeling the weight of the rifle strap over his shoulder. Marie’s hand sought his, a silent acknowledgment of the shared tension.
As they walked, the neighborhood’s eerie silence was shattered by the sound of heavy, rhythmic thumping. Derek and Marie stopped, instantly alert. The noise grew louder, revealing its source: a group of orcs, brown-skinned humanoids with thick limbs and tusks, were charging down the road towards them. Derek quickly shouldered his AR, and Marie prepared her weapon, both ready for the imminent fight.
Derek dodged a spear, which seemed to be easier than it had the day before. One glance back at Marie was backing up rapidly to gain distance. Derek danced around the monsters avoiding their attacks while shooting them when he could. Derek dropped his rifle, letting his sling catch it, pulled his Walther from it’s holster and sent three shots of 9mm into each of the orcs as he backed away creating distance.
A round of rifle fire from Marie ended several monster’s lives. He heard Marie gasping for breath between shots. He released another round of fire into one of the creatures and it fell to the ground succumbing to it’s injuries. With six remaining and each of them injured, Derek was sure of the outcome. He continued peppering them with gun fire.
“This is taking forever.” He complained quietly.
The last orc collapsed, its final breath misting in the cool air. For a fleeting moment, Derek and Marie stood in the stillness that follows a storm, the sharp scent of iron hanging between them. They quickly swapped their magazines and listened for more footsteps, alert to any further danger. Noticing the strain of the encounter in Marie’s eyes, Derek gently pulled the gun from her hand and wrapped her in a gentle embrace, stroking her head as she sobbed softly. As her sobbing grew stronger, he held her closer, offering silent comfort.
After a few moments, Derek knew they needed to move on. "We should head back," he said calmly, breaking the quiet.
Marie nodded, pulling away from the embrace, her gaze briefly lingering on the fallen creatures.
Congratulations:
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After the encounter with the orcs, Derek and Marie made their way back home in a steady, purposeful march. The neighborhood, once familiar and welcoming, now felt altered, marked by the events of the morning. They passed homes that stood silent, a testament to the rapid upheaval of their once-ordinary lives. Derek kept a eye on their surroundings, his hand never straying far from his weapon, while Marie walked beside him, her thoughts seemingly on the tasks awaiting them at home.
Then, Marie’s voice, tinged with vulnerability, cut through the quiet, “Why would God do this to us?” Her words, more than the chaos around, seemed to erode what little faith in the divine Derek had harbored.
He didn’t answer, instead letting his gaze drift to the sky, searching it as if the answers might be written there. The quests’ names echoed in his mind, ‘The No True God’, ‘The New Pantheon’, mocking his silent questions. They turned, the weight of the unseen heavens pressing on their shoulders, and made their way back home.
Marie’s question about what God intended lingered in the air, highlighting their helplessness. The quiet that followed showed how unsure they both were. But their silence also meant they agreed on something without saying it: thinking about why this was happening wouldn’t help them with their current problems.
With a practical shrug, Derek shifted his focus from the existential back to the tangible, signaling it was time to move on.
They had preparations to make, defenses to shore up, and a community to lead. There was no space for doubt in Derek’s agenda; survival was a practical matter, and he was all about the next step. They made their way home, their pace brisk, leaving unanswered questions to dissolve in the morning mist.
As Marie unlocked the door to the house, Derek’s gaze stayed fixed on the horizon, where smoke signals from distant fires painted a grim picture for the outlook of humanity. Following her inside, he hesitated as she headed up the stairs to the soft confines of their home. Instead, he turned, heading to the garage, the sanctuary for his eclectic hoard of tools and gadgets.
Stepping into the garage, he brushed off the final thoughts of the divine; he needed to prepare for the certainties of steel and sweat. The four-foot bar of 1085 steel caught his eye, a project to make a sword with the leisurely passion of a hobbyist now a symbol of necessity. He almost fired the forge, but realized that heat-treating such a weapon was beyond his current means. Putting aside his frustration at the lack of a better weapon, Derek searched his garage for a more practical and immediate solution. It wasn’t lost on him that killing the orcs was significantly more difficult than the goblins. The rifle fire did damage, but it wasn’t nearly as effective as it had been against the goblins. The goblins seemed to have near human physiology, where the orcs had tougher skin and muscles that didn't allow for deep penetration.
His gaze fell on the six-foot pry bar that leaned in the corner with the other yard tools. Picking it up, he tested its weight and balance. His increased physical abilities allowed him to maneuver it easily, feeling its potential as a weapon. He moved through a few awkward motions, then consulted the internet for quarterstaff techniques, adapting the movements to his needs. The techniques practiced in quieter times were now repurposed for survival.
As he swung the bar, the tool made for shifting rock and breaking hard ground turned into a weapon that could break bones. He handled the twenty-pound steel bar with ease, rolling it through his hands, experimenting with its reach and versatility. The weight of it in his hands was comfortable. Maybe it was his enhanced strength, but it felt like reliability. It was a blunt instrument of destruction. Marie might be the heart of their home, but he was the protector, the provider.
This wasn’t just about survival; it was about taking the fight to the monsters, clearing them out, making the area safe. Each practice swing of the bar was a step towards that goal, a reminder of the strength he would need. Derek’s thoughts were clear: eliminate the threats, grow stronger, and protect what was theirs. With a final swing, he stored the bar in his storage bracelet with a thought, his determination burning through him like a tempest of flames.
When he returned, he found Marie in the kitchen. She was in the midst of pouring tomato sauce from a can into a pot. She stirred in seasonings while occasionally smelling the pot. It was a reminder that, despite the apocalypse, life must go on. Beans, onions, garlic, and two packages of meat sat on the counter.
“Making chili?” Derek asked.
“Yeah,” Marie replied without looking up. “We’ll need something hearty. Can you grab the sausage from the freezer so that we can make a pot of red beans and rice?”
As Derek fetched the meat, his mind spun, making plans and preparations. Food was one thing, but they had a meeting to prepare for and plans to make. They needed to be ready for whatever was next.
When he placed the sausage on the counter, Marie gave him an appreciative nod. There was no need for any words to be spoken. After helping Marie set up the cooker and ensuring everything was ready for the both the red beans and rice and the chili, Derek was about to head out to the garage when Marie spoke up.
“Derek, have you checked on Phil?” she asked, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. Her tone was casual, but there was an underlying concern in her voice.
Derek paused, momentarily surprised by the oversight. With everything that had happened, he hadn’t thought about his local friends. He wasn’t the type to keep a large social circle, but in times like these, it made sense to check in.
He agreed, saying “Good point,” and quickly turned to his interface. Derek usually didn’t like long talks or too much socializing. But he knew that in these tough times, small gestures like this were important.
He dialed the first couple of numbers, receiving no answer, which was slightly unsettling. When he reached Phil’s number, the call connected.
“Uh… hello.” He said as if he had woken.
“Please tell me you haven’t been asleep all day.”
“Dude, it’s like ten in the morning.”
“Don’t tell me you were up all night playing Halo.”
“Asshole, I wasn’t up all night playing Halo. I was replaying Skyrim dude, there is this mod that…”
“Phil, say the word ‘Interface’?”
“Why?” He asked skeptically.
“Just do it.”
“Fine, you bloody prick, In-ter-face.” He said, dragging out the word petulantly. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Derek, what the fuck?”
“Phil, shut up and listen to every word I say.”
“You have my attention.” He replied, completely alert.
“Open your settings. Say ‘Apply iPhone template.’ Say ‘Activate external uplink connection’ then drop your phone into the box.”
He said the words, then his favorite four letter word, and the connection dropped for a moment before his interface picked up the call.
“Phil, there are monsters in the streets. Goblins, Orcs, no idea what else. Get your guns, pack everything you can’t live without, and get your ass to my house. Don’t plan on returning home. I added my iPad to the interface and it stores my notes, books, everything, you could probably do it with your computer. Anyway bring everything you can and get your ass over here. Don’t stop for anything, no heroics.”
“Fine, you god damn asshole.”
“Let me know if you run into problems. And call anyone you care about. I have room for about seven more, but food will be an issue.” Derek instructed, ending the call.
Derek went back into the house after setting up the cooker for Marie. She wasn’t feeling good after this morning’s violence, and he hated it for her. He couldn’t keep her from it. Not unless he killed every monster within a mile radius. He decided when Phil arrived, they could patrol the area, maybe get down to the local supermarket.
Marie was on the phone while starting the large pot of red beans and rice for the community meeting. The chili for their evening meal, her movements brought feeling of nostalgia to him. He watched for a moment, then joined in, gathering spices and a large pot from the cupboard. The kitchen, filled with the lingering scents of morning coffee and now the burgeoning aroma of cooking, formed a small bastion of normality.
“You know,” Marie said, a playful edge to her voice as she stirred the pot, “all those times you went on your obsessive tangents — canning, blacksmithing, preparing for Armageddon. I never thought I’d say it, but you being a borderline doomsday prepper kind of makes sense now.” She flashed a teasing smile in his direction.
Derek leaned against the counter, a smirk appearing on his face. “Obsessive? I prefer to think of it as being thorough,” he retorted, his tone light but proud.
Marie laughed, the sound bright and heartening in the kitchen. “Thorough or obsessive, I love you for it,” she replied, giving him a playful jab in the arm.
“Love you too, even if you’re just in it for my apocalypse survival skills,” Derek shot back playfully.