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At seven o'clock, Wednesday morning, Peter had a dilemma. He was OK with leaving Shredder with Shadow, but what if she or one of the colleagues walked the pup in town, someone from the college recognized it, and linked it to Peter? One thing could lead to another, and he had killed somebody. That was a big problem.

Leaving the pup on his own was out of the question too… If he got out and someone recognized it as a monster… In the end, maybe the solution was to ask Shadow to keep Shredder under lock. A day was not so much, after all.

"What's on your mind?" the System asked. When Peter explained, the AI laughed. "What kind of a System do you think I am? I have pet cosmetics included. You can change Shredder's appearance in the pet settings."

"Wow…" Peter widened his eyes when noticing ten vanity styles and colors he could use for the pet. "Anything for me too?"

"Good to know. I'll consider it, but not just now." He accessed the pet settings and opted for an off-white, making the pup's fur less fluffy at the same time.

"Woof!" Shredder objected. That's how Peter interpreted the warg's furrowed brows.

Nevertheless, an hour later the pup was at the shelter, and Peter joined the rest of the students on the main lawn. Five hundred young people were gathered there, a fraction of what the College taught before the Awakening.

The Cultivator students wore robes looking like graduation attire from the old times. The elegant gear was for the teachers. The normies, the 'support and logistics'—in which Peter was included—were given body armor and tactical helmets. That was… concerning. The guards had rifles and ballistic shields. Kostel looked ridiculous, the bulletproof vest barely covering the upper half of his belly.

"Hey!" A warm hand grabbed his fingers, startling him. "Regina."

"I thought you were out of town?" he gasped.

"I was ordered to come back for the trip," Regina said. "My Dad drove all night," she waved her hand toward a handful of guests.

"You're Spirit?" he asked, noticing the color of her robes. "I thought you were a Mind Culti—"

"I'm a Spirit Cultivator… I like more the Mind Curricula, but… it is what it is…" she shrugged.

the System said.

"Listen to me!" Alchemy moved in front of the group, amplifying her voice through magic. "For the rest of July and August, each Wednesday and Friday, we will farm plants and monsters on another Realm. There will be dangers and various challenges. Stay with the group. Don't get lost. Cultivators specialized in teleportation will take care of the voyage There will be two jumps. Stay within the boundaries of the lawn. That's all."

"Jumping in ten… nine…" a tall man began shouting the countdown. There were three other strangers, all sitting in the corners of the big group.

At zero, a blinding light enveloped them, and suddenly, they were on a platform, built from large slabs of stone. The sky was pitch black and on it floated a giant blob of blue and white, a planet with oceans and continents, their form familiar. They were on the Moon… and yet, they could breathe.

"Second jump in ten, nine…" the man started again.

The second blinding light brought them to an Earth-like landscape. A grass sea, tall up to their waist. There were rows of low hills everywhere, some forested. Clouds ran fast over the blue sky, but the wind at their level was soft, barely moving the tips of the grass.

Alchemy shouted: "The time is about the same here, so we will use the same hours. Phones work. We have coverage through a satellite network. We will move in different directions, in ten groups of fifty people each, led by a teacher. This zone is deemed safe, but stay vigilant."

To Peter's relief, he and Regina were in the same group, Alchemy's. So was Jack, though. The grass was getting in their way, and it took the most of an hour to organize. Their group started to walk to what seemed to be East, with Alchemy ahead, floating in the air twenty feet above the ground, to be seen by everyone.

The first half-an-hour was uneventful, and Peter and Regina took their time at small talk. They held hands often. It became a tiring stroll after a while, and silence replaced words for everyone, which allowed Peter to talk to the System. The AI had refused to answer any of his questions for the last few days.

You said that once here, you'll tell me about the Tower.

Oh, my God! You mean…

But… the astronomers would have noticed the change in—

And what now?

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"Stop!" Alchemy shouted. "Incoming, two o'clock. Defense, be ready."

Tucked into his belt was the gun, and Peter patted the grip, ready to pull it out from under the shirt.

The guards with guns and the Body Cultivators advanced to the front, with the Spirit ones taking position in the second line. Peter tried to put himself in front of Regina, ready to protect her at a moment's notice.

"What are you doing, moron, you want to get killed?" Jack scorned him, shoving him away and taking his place. Peter decided not to argue, staying behind the girl and staring into the distance. Soon, a little black mound appeared, moving toward them. It became a buffalo of sorts, only bigger. A rumor started to grow among the students and the why was obvious. The beast had a rider.

"Don't attack it, no matter what! Do not speak with it, no matter what. If you say a single word or engage in combat, I'm bound by the rules to stay out of it," Melinda yelled.

"Hiding behind Mommy's skirt, little ones?" the rider laughed. A giant, eight feet or more tall, with a cat-like face but a humanoid body. The voice sounded male, but Peter could not swear on it. The rider's body had certain… shapes. There were spears fixed to the saddle and a wide broadsword on the rider's back. Hold in an oblique position, it was at least as long as the catfolk. The apparition continued his taunting. "I challenge any of you to a fair fight… To the first blood, if you're scared. No one? A lot of pussies here, and it's not the girls."

Jack growled and tried to unsheath his Jian sword, but a hand grabbed his arm at the elbow. Kostel. The Body Cultivator tried to break free from the hold, but somehow, the guard pulled him back.

"The fuck!"

Inspect (uncommon) unlocked. Name: Kostel. Class: Guard (Uncommon). Level: 14

Peter was jealous. He was level thirteen now, and that was from running about a dozen errands for the bikers and having a few arm wrestling matches or fistfights with the same. Exchanging hits or getting stoned were the bikers' favorite forms of entertainment.

"Sentient monsters?" Regina said in a whisper. "Let's hope we won't have to fight them. Imagine the trauma of killing a sentient being…"

"Yeah…" Peter nodded, throwing an Inspect at the rider. The result was only: Catfolk, level: ??? Barbarian

Disappointed no one answered the challenge, the barbarian spat on the ground and spurred their mount, soon disappearing behind the next hill. The group continued the trek for another five minutes until they met a river, the tall grass transforming into a meadow with countless small and charming flowers.

Melinda shouted: "We have arrived. Defense, form a perimeter. Spirits, comb every square foot for valuable plants. Let your qi flow and guide your instincts—"

That's great! I can help Regina.

Leaving Regina alone in a danger zone?

If something happens to her, I so swear I'll uninstall you for good, no matter what it takes.

Once the sneaking out was done, Peter changed into his leather attire and cartel helmet. "What now?"

Really? OK. Impulse: Right. Sorry. Warp Impu…. "Aaaaah." Trashing his arms, Peter barely stopped himself from colliding with the tree, face first.

"Don't tell me you want me to fight that monster?"

True… it's a neat ability.

Jumping instantly between long distances was exhilarating. Until now, everything he had done was… almost normal, but this... This felt like real magic. Four jumps later, the barbarian was in sight. It had dismounted the buffalo, which was grazing freely, and smoked a cigarette, its back rested on a tree. Peter Warped again and stopped twenty feet away from the catfolk, who unsheathed his sword in a blink, the cigarette still in the corner of their mouth.

"I just want to talk!" Peter yelled, raising his hands in the air.

"Then talk. Who are you?" the creature hissed.

"Not an enemy, that's the important part. I just need some directions. I'll make your time worth it."

The catfolk's attitude relaxed a bit. "Are you a straddler?"

"Straddler?"

"This Universal Translator is shit… Stranded? The visitors caught here by the Awakening?"

"I got transported here a couple of hours before we met, by accident, finding myself mixed with a bunch of kids… I sneaked away. How long ago was your Awakening?"

"I see… There are some malfunctions in their teleporting," the Barbarian pondered. "We awakened ten years ago."

Bit by bit, a larger picture emerged. Before the Mana Wave, the Catfolks' planet had been in the equivalent of a late Renaissance period. However, they were aware of spatial travel because of visitors who came to trade for medicinal plants, the best local resource. When the Cultivators came, the polities on the planet were given an ultimatum: to pay the Cultivators a heavy tribute in plants or be destroyed. Those who fought back were obliterated.

There were no Cultivators among the catfolks, the locals were too rowdy and stubbornly refused to meditate. Nevertheless, spontaneous magical or martial skills had appeared. The Barbarian was a female, a sort of lioness. The females of the species worked, while the males guarded the family.

"The Cultivators installed magical bounty billboards in towns. I'm a mercenary. This one, an educational bounty about the kids appeared, so I took it… Now… You were saying something about making my time worth it?" Throwing the cigarette butt down and squashing it with the sole of their boot, the Barbarian displayed a predatory grin.

"One second…" Peter raised a finger. "A bounty about the kids?"

"Yeah. Catch up with a group, taunt them, kill anyone who'd take the bait. That teaches them about real danger. Alas, no little fish bit."

"But you said first blood!" Peter accused.

"Ah, so you were there? If I behead them from a single strike, it's first blood, isn't it?" she shrugged.

The bastards…

"Are you paying me or not?" The barbarian's hand slipped toward the greatsword's hilt.

"You take gold?" Peter sighed.

"Does a bilghie eat grass?"

Squeezing his hand backward into the backpack, the young man willed a one-ounce gold bullion out and threw it to the mercenary. The barbarian bit into it, then smiled and bowed. "A pleasure. Since you're lost, do you want me to escort you to the next town?"

"I'll return to the kids and take my chances with them. There is another teleporting soon."

"As you wish. If you're still stranded and need help, find any village and leave a message for me through the billboards. Name's Redroar. Free advice: when night comes, stay out of the haze."

Without any more ado, Redroar whistled, making her mount come. She jumped up and landed on its back, an impressive display of skill and athletics, then rode away, the bilghie surprisingly fast for its size.