~~~Stanley~~~

"Master... Stanley," Walter called right as Stanley floated onto the penthouse balcony. His soul was... remorseful?

"Yeah?"

"I have prepared a small traveling snack for you and your companion."

Caffeine kicked Stanley off the balcony on his way back to Walter when the man produced a huge paper-wrapped package that had to be food. Stanley was smiling when he drifted to a stop high above the ground... His smile faded when something below caught his eye. What!?

He shot downward, ignoring Nate's call as he approached the people hunting zombies outside the tower. One person in particular had caught his attention.

"Where the fuck did you get that!?" Stanley roared at the woman who'd just impaled a zombie through the head with a blood-red wooden spear. A spear with a soul that burned the zombie where it touched it—Samantha's fucking spear!

She didn't answer; she only screamed and tried to stab him with the stolen spear.

It approached his face, and time slowed.

Stanley watched dispassionately as he drifted aside from the stabbing spear. She tried to kill me... but was it a true attempt by someone so weak? With my spear, no less. Samantha's spear. He didn't mind that part so much, not like he had a moment ago, but trying to kill him was indeed unacceptable.

Her pathetic attempt at murder had him leaning towards sending a message rather than killing the woman outright. She was more useful alive. He could break a few bones as a...

Very abruptly, Stanley found himself filled with rage and fear as a spear brushed past his face and then snapped back out at him. He caught it with his mind... and stopped it dead in the air. Had he just activated his Still Mind skill without meaning to? Had Caffeine canceled it?

He watched the woman's eyes go wide an instant later, and she tried to pull back away from him. She tried to take the spear with her... Stanley didn't let it go. Neither did she...

"Where did you get my fucking spear!?" Stanley ripped her hands from the weapon with surprising difficulty and held her in the air by her throat. "Tell me!"

"S... Serenity... she... gave..."

Stanley let go of her at the same time that Nate landed a dozen feet away with a booming crash. Did he actually jump from the top floor? That's at least...

"Wait!" Daryl appeared out of thin air an instant later, and Stanley flinched before frowning at the man. He had no soul... It wasn't Daryl! In fact, it wasn't anything. The image of the man gave no resistance to his mental touch.

Then Edward came bounding over from another group of fighters. "Stanley, Kira didn't steal it! Serenity let her use it!"

"I... got that. But why did she give it to you?" The question answered itself when he took a closer look at the spear alongside the woman. "You... soul bound it?"

She was rubbing her throat and glaring at him. All while eyeing the spear with a look that was totally her trying to figure out if she could snatch it from him and run away. Or maybe kill him? Her expression changed at his words, her eyes going wide. "I... how did you... I started the process... but it's not done."

Nate had strolled closer, but not too close, and he said nothing. Then the fake Daryl vanished. Right as real Daryl came sprinting out of the ground floor entrance... "Stanley, please! Serenity gave..."

"God damn, I got it!" His previous burst of rage felt... overblown. He didn't even use the spear anymore, but seeing it here had brought so many memories to the surface. Unpleasant ones.

Caffeine trotted out behind Daryl and ran right up to Kira with a wagging tail. She smiled briefly at him but didn't succumb to his pawing request for attention. Clearly, they'd met before. Which wasn't surprising, given Stanley had been here for a week.

He stared at the angry girl while her gaze remained locked on the spear. "Do you know who created this?"

Her defiance eased, and her eyes flickered from the spear to him as she shook her head. "Serenity said... she said I could use it... until Stanley... came... back." Her voice trailed off, and her eyes finally met his, widening in recognition. It looked like she was making the connection.

Stanley studied her soul with both of his skills. Looking and listening. "Her name was Samantha. She used this spear to save my life against the first invader I met..." He was almost positive that the zombie had been an invader. "She died for it."

The girl wilted at his words, then froze when the spear drifted to a stop in front of her.

"She wanted to save people," Stanley said, staring at the spear. "She wanted to save everyone..." Kira snatched it from the air possessively, and he saw her soul intertwine once again with the spear's own soul glow. "What will you do with it?"

The spear glowed brighter with a flare of red light. "I'm going to kill every one of those fucking undead bastards!"

"That's... good." Stanley looked away. It was better this way. Samantha wanted to help people. She wanted to make a difference, and she did. So many people lived because of her, and Stanley had forgotten about her. He forgot about the price she paid for him and wallowed in his own pain instead. I'm sorry, Samantha.

Someone should use her spear... since he wasn't. It was too weak, just like Samantha had been, but maybe a weak weapon could still make a large impact. Like Samantha did. "Her name is..."

"Samantha. I'll remember. I'll help people... too, while I kill every fucking undead I find!" the girl stated. She meant every word.

"Good." Stanley turned to look at the tide of zombies scrambling his way. Beside him, Caffeine sat and watched his human. "Come, Caff. It's time to go. Edward, you coming?"

"Naw, I'm gonna stay and help teach all these newbies. That way, I get to be the badass. If only I could fly above them all cool like..." Edward was the only one not staring at Stanley in horror. All of his newbies were terrified. Except for the girl, who was only pleased to have her spear back in hand.

Stanley left the zombies for them. These weaklings needed practice. He picked up Nate, who had Walter's going away snack under one arm, and Caffeine immediately switched his attention to the package once they were airborne.

Nate was light. Practically effortless to carry. Kira had been an ant under his finger. Stanley felt powerful. More powerful than he'd ever been... and it didn't feel like enough. Especially not with a leaking soul.

Still, he moved himself and Nate straight into the sky. Or rather, it felt like they didn't move and the ground simply fell away below. Disorienting, but not debilitating.

"Woah!" Nate shook his head. "I thought the others were being dramatic, but that definitely feels weird."

Stanley mostly tuned him out. Instead, he basked in the new found silence of the sky. He hadn't realized how many souls had been bombarding him down there, and with only the three of them in the sky, it was... peaceful.

He didn't head out yet, though; his gaze was pointed down, and he stared at a specific building full of monsters. Full of bats. The hole in one side of the building was still there, but smaller. Nearly gone. The street outside that hole hadn't recovered at all. It looked like a war zone of shattered, scorched, and broken cement. We survived. We won.

Nate stayed silent while Stanley looked over the aftermath of his near death. His latest, near death...

Then Stanley turned toward home and started a more leisurely flight in that direction as he asked, "Why not squeeze everyone into the tower? Consolidate. Even if it's crowded, that would be more protection for Zeke."

"It might come to that, but the tower's already crowded." He shook his head. "Most of the lairs out here are no longer free of corruption. Even Zeke can't clean their meat; we tested it. He just burns them up, and we end up with a tiny amount of usable meat. The tower is subsisting on the few fish they pull out of an underwater lair that's not corrupted. Not nearly enough for everyone."

Nate was eyeing him on that last bit, and Stanley protested, "I don't eat that much... though that does seem like a problem."

"They're also weak," Nate said. "Those people fighting outside are almost the full extent of their combat potential."

"Adrian is a good healer... I think." Stanley frowned. He didn't actually know if that was true. Though he could heal hunger like Zeke, that was solid.

"You know," Nate said, changing the subject. "We found a guy that can make magic-boosting staffs and wands. No idea how it works, but you should check in with him to see if he can make you something."

"Sure..." Stanley carried them toward and over the large circular swath of green below. It spread out for miles, and it was the only green he could see anywhere. Zeke's doing. They went deeper into the zone, and he could see the human souls flickering into sight at the base as they got closer, and he felt... anxious. "Who... is Jerry alive?"

"Him and Bill. Arthur as well."

Stanley was... glad. Mostly about Jerry. Arthur had his uses, but he'd been more separate... always pining after Samantha.

When he felt the human souls flinch at his approach, Stanley stopped and looked around before backing up a bit and descending in front of a small house.

"I'll settle in here," he said after he checked inside. There was obviously no one there, and the house was clean enough. "I can be nearby without being too close."

Caffeine ran inside and started sniffing everything, probably looking for snacks.

Nate looked like he wanted to object, but Stanley could feel the faint relief in his soul. He probably hadn't thought through what having him come back would do to everyone. "Okay." He slumped a bit. "I'll bring you some food and water later. Maybe some..."

"It's fine." Stanley held up a hand. "Caff will be here to watch over me. He’ll be close enough to run over there and see his friends. Meanwhile, I need to work on some things."

Nate nodded, turned, and sprinted into the trees without another word.

Meanwhile, Stanley settled onto the front porch of his new house. Am I a landowner now? he thought wryly as Caffeine finished checking the house and started running around the yard, including sniffing a few trees. Stanley watched the trees warily, not forgetting his last encounter with one. Though he was sure he could kill that worm easily now. Beyond easily.

He did poke and shake the trees around his new home, just in case. Caffeine finally relaxed when Stanley doled out Walter's fish, then curled up in his lap. He gently stroked the soft fur as he closed his eyes and focused on his soul.

The wound was there, ugly and leaking, and Stanley felt gingerly at the energy of his soul. It wasn't wholly unfamiliar. He'd manipulated the same energy to activate his Soul Sight, after all. Not to mention using it to kill...

He reached out with that same feeling and tried to divert the trickle coming from the wound. It worked! Until he tried to send it back in, and the energy didn't want to go against the slow outward flow.

Stanley looked at his coat again. There was a barrier of sorts on it, but it wasn't as simple as just blocking the energy where it covered him. Stanley couldn't actually tell where his soul was in the physical world. Even when he looked at it from that meditation void space, there was nothing to gauge where the edges were.

He messed around with the jacket and its effects until he finally realized something. The jacket was using soul energy... Did Walter use some of his soul to make this? It was so faint that he couldn't tell for sure whose soul it was, just that it was indeed a soul. Or the energy of one.

It was surprising, and it left him a little ashamed of how he'd acted toward the butler. He was really grateful. Is that why Daryl was surprised? It also meant Walter could use soul energy. On top of everything else he had done... What exactly was his class?

Stanley shook off the thoughts and focused on what he now knew. This time, he manipulated his soul energy, along with the leaking stuff, into a barrier as close to what the jacket did as he could manage. He slowly spread it around himself in a blind attempt to block the leak.

Debuff: [Deadly Soul Wound(Rune Seal)(Shielded)] -1 Twin-Soul Attributes per 6 days.

It slowed the leak! Stanley thought excitedly while Caffeine stirred on his lap.

"That's a lot better," Nate said, and Stanley jumped. "Oh, I'm back." Nate chuckled. "I can't believe I snuck up on you."

"I was concentrating," Stanley grumbled, and let his soul energy construct dissolve.

Nate leaned slightly away. Reflexively. "Ah, there you are." He held up a duffel. "Brought you some stuff." He set the bag on the porch, and Caffeine was already sniffing towards it from his spot in Stanley's lap. "There's chicken in there, so..."

Caffeine bounded to his feet and started sniffing deeply at the closed bag. Stanley smiled at the sight. "Where did you get chicken?"

"Chicken lair, where else?"

"Of course. What was I thinking?" Caffeine ignored the departure of Nate, his attention fully on the bag and the chicken that Stanley pulled out. It was a lot. They must be some big chickens...

Caffeine rocked back and forth nonstop and licked his lips until Stanley handed over the first piece. It vanished instantly.

...

Later, stuffed and with Caffeine full of chicken sleeping in his lap, Stanley was back in his soul space and looking at the patched wound. Shielding isn't enough. I need to fix it.

He focused as narrowly as he could on one end of the iridescent wound. There were tiny particles... or waves... of stuff slipping away from the spot. Particles and waves—is my soul like light? Do I need to learn quantum physics? He really hoped not. Or can I just will it to get better?

It was worth a shot. That was kind of his whole deal these days.

There was something of an edge to his soul in here, but the closer he looked, the harder it was to find the actual line. Seeing as how he seemed to be inside his soul, he wasn’t even sure if the wound was actually on the inside or outside. It was diaphanous and fluffy, but he got as close to the start of the wound as possible and bent his will against that tiny, infinitesimal speck. Seal back together.

Stanley felt his psionic energy drain and saw the tiny speck shift slightly closer to the one next to it. Is that good? His class was soul psionic, and he was using at least his will, if not also his soul, to manipulate his soul...

Seal

Another speck shifted.

Seal

Again and again. Bit by infinitesimal bit, it was working. Presumably.

Stanley kept it going until a tongue slapped into his face. It kept slapping until he opened his eyes to a dark world with gleaming stars overhead.

"I..." Stanley tried to speak, but his throat was too dry. How long did I work on that? He found a jug of water in Nate’s bag and drank it almost dry, then poured the rest into a mental bowl for Caffeine.

"Sorry, Caff." He rubbed Caffeine’s head. "It was working!"

Caffeine ignored the water and only wagged his tail while jumping up to lick Stanley’s face again. "Okay, okay, let's get some sleep."

His head felt thick... which, considering he'd been meditating the whole time, was a bad sign. Was he doing something wrong? Or did working on his soul make for shit meditation? Of course, he had a notification waiting for him, which might explain something.

Skill: Harmonic Meditation has reached the Level 50 Threshold. Upgrade Available. Evolution Available.

He went for the evolution.

Harmonic Soul Meditation (Epic) - Level 50 (Advanced)

In the symphony of the body, mind, and soul, balance reigns supreme.

Users of this skill gain the ability to refresh and calm their body, mind, and soul through meditation while also minimizing their body's physical needs, including sleep and nourishment.

Allows the user to enter profound states of concentration, attuning their mind and body to the flow of psionic and soul energy within, balancing the flows of each for greater control of both.

Active meditation increases all regeneration at the cost of severe sensory restrictions.

Skill Level Effects - (Advanced)

+20% to all regeneration while active

-1% to sensory restrictions

His E-grade evolution was supposed to help with meditation, and this might help his soul, so he accepted. Begrudgingly, because he noted that he should have already cut his sensory restrictions by half... or did it not work that way?

Then he meditated again, hoping to feel a difference.

It was hard to say. It might have been more clear... As for seeing the results of his efforts, he couldn’t see them until he focused way down deep. There, at the very edge of the ugly wound, was a small patch of slightly less agitated soul.

A tiny spot. But one that felt... better. More durable. It's going to take a while.

Stanley grimaced. Too slow, damn it! He clenched his fists. I can't keep fucking wasting...

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A tongue licked his cheek, and Caffeine whined. Stanley sighed out a deep breath and slumped onto his back tiredly.

It was something. More than he'd had that morning. It would have to be enough... and maybe he would get better at it with practice?

He went inside, found some clean-smelling sheets in a closet, and remade a bed. He hesitated when he went to remove the jacket. The shield effect was slowing the damage, and he'd be an idiot to remove it.

So he got under the covers, fully dressed. He didn't even need blankets anymore. They felt more comforting than warming, even with the cold weather. Cold that couldn't touch his body. Mostly, the blankets were for Caffeine, and he held them up invitingly. "You wanna get under?"

Caffeine looked at his normally favorite place but didn't enter. Instead, he settled atop the covers between Stanley's legs.

Okay, Caff, Stanley thought. You have the watch. I'll make sure you get all the cuddle naps you want during the day.

It was only as he drifted off that Stanley realized he'd done all of that in nearly total darkness. How good were his eyes now? Or was it his domain?

~~~Walter~~~

Walter felt Stanley's burst of anger even though the man was outside, and he reached the ground floor in the same instant that Stanley appeared before Kira. There was a moment of that same coldness from before... and he saw Nate leap from the penthouse balcony.

The coldness switched instantly to rage and fear before tapering back down.

He hadn't forgotten the discussion earlier, and so he brought Caffeine along with Master Daryl on his jaunt down here. Or he had tried to bring the pug. It had resisted his power and instead sprinted down the stairs nearly as fast as Walter could have managed. Though with a building shaking racket...

Daryl was already sprinting out to interrupt the violent confrontation unfolding before them when the pug caught up.

Walter stood in the doorway of his domain and watched Kira face off against that young old man. Walter knew Stanley was not the old man he seemed. He could see it in his eyes. In his body and his soul. That one was a young man, one who had seen too much and had not been prepared for the direction his life had gone. But then, who had been ready for this?

Yet there was still hope for that one. Especially with that damnable shedding beast at his side. Walter picked another gray hair from his sleeve with a small smile.

He could do nothing about the situation beyond his reach, but he knew he didn't need to. He could also see and feel all the curious residents of his domain peering through the windows around and above him, all watching the stranger who had killed the monster. The one who hurt them simply by getting too close. Most were glad to see him depart, but the smart ones wished he would stay.

Outside, Stanley left the weapon with Kira, as Walter had expected. The man could likely see that it was bonding with her. Then they flew away, and Daryl started back to the building, Princess at his side.

Walter watched Master Daryl approach, his heart heavy from the worry on that young face. Yet his heart also swelled with pride as he looked upon a young man who had finally and truly stepped into his role. He'd worried about him after the incident. The Master had withdrawn back into his old ways. Neither seeing nor caring about anyone but himself and his friends, and then only the ones who were useful to him.

"Walter, I want to make an announcement," Daryl said. "If you don't mind?"

"My pleasure, sir." Walter gently touched Daryl's throat with a finger. Princess sat calmly at Daryl's feet, her tails waving lazily.

"Everyone, this is Daryl again," Daryl said, and his voice came from everywhere in the building. "I'm sure you all saw and felt that monster of a human leave."

He took a breath and glanced at Walter before looking away, somewhat guiltily. "Myself and Adrian will be leading excursions for anyone who wishes to go into the lairs and get stronger. Coordinate with Walter if you are interested. That is all."

Daryl nodded at Walter, and he removed his hand. "Walter... we need people to..." Daryl wouldn't meet his eyes. "We have to go to the lairs again. There aren't enough monsters coming in here."

"As you say, sir," Walter said calmly. "You are quite correct."

Daryl glanced at him and smiled. "Thank you, Walter."

Walter smiled to himself as he watched him walk away. Daryl didn't understand. He wasn't upset. He was worried, of course, but not upset. No, he was proud.

Walter looked out the door at the dangerous world Daryl would head into, a place Walter could not follow. He turned, and a step took him away. He reappeared an instant later as he stepped through the doorway to the basement. A basement that hadn’t been there before this started.

"Walter!" Tommy called out in greeting. "We got another one for you!"

"Very good, sir," Walter replied as he picked up the half-ton fish. It vanished. "Will you be joining Master Daryl on his excursions?" Walter asked, peeved at calling him by his first name, but the Master had insisted.

"I will!" Tommy exclaimed. "I don't mind catching fish... but I want to get stronger, too."

"As you say, sir." Walter nodded. He looked at the dark water that took up most of the floor down here. No one had dared to explore it yet, mostly because it was underwater, but fish and other things did occasionally swim to the surface or even leap out. "I will notify the Master and shall fetch you at the appropriate time."

Tommy smiled. "Thanks Walter."

"Carry on, sir." Walter turned to the other person in the basement. "Do you wish to join the..."

"No! Uh, no thanks!" Henry stammered and then mumbled, "I enjoy catching fish."

"Very good, sir. If you require anything, please do not hesitate to ask," Walter replied as he walked through the door. One more step took him just outside the kitchen, and he stepped inside. "Miss Rivera. I have another..."

She cut him off. "Walter. Put it there." She waved at a stainless steel counter without turning around. "I still need more stuff, Walter, especially spices."

Walter set the fish on the counter, and it creaked under the weight. "If Miss prepares a list, I will see that the next excursion has..."

She spun around. "Oh, no Walter." She leveled a cleaver at him. "I'm going with them!"

"Very good, ma'am," Walter said. "I shall inform the Master."

"Hah!" She spun back to the counter and slammed her cleaver into something bloody. "Now get out of here, Walter. You bother me!"

"As you say, ma'am." Walter stepped to another floor and walked through a doorway into a room full of screaming children. They cheered and charged him when he came in.

Walter stepped past them, and the swarm screamed louder as they turned in pursuit once again. "Good afternoon, sir," he said to Mr Steele. "You requested my assistance?" Walter tossed a handful of small candies over the approaching horde, and they changed course to chase the candy.

"I want to join the excursions!" the man yelled over the noise. "Also, can you get the children to the gym?" he asked pleadingly as the last piece of candy vanished and the monsters turned on the only prey available.

"Of course, sir." Walter nodded as the bloodthirsty mob rolled over them and spilled out into a gymnasium full of distractions that diverted the little animals and allowed Walter to escape. He stepped to a higher floor and knocked on the door in front of him.

The vulgar screaming inside the room stopped, and a voice yelled. "Fuck off!" Walter knocked again. "I said..." The door burst open, and a red faced, sweating man yelled in Walter's face, "Fuck off!"

"I'm afraid I cannot allow your reprehensible behavior within these premises," Walter said flatly.

"Go cry at Daryl!" the man yelled. "I don't give a fuck!" He slammed the door and stomped back toward the woman crying on the floor. His wife.

"Look what you made me do!" he spat at the woman. "Now that old fart is going to whine to the fairy!"

He was breathing heavily as he leaned over and reached for her. "Don't make me..." His words cut off abruptly when a hand gripped his hair, dragged his head back, and then a cold blade settled heavily on his neck.

"I am afraid I must insist," Walter said calmly into the man's ear.

"But Daryl..." the man sputtered as blood trickled from his neck.

"The Master gave you one chance for old times' sake," Walter said. "One more than you deserved. I am not the Master." The man struggled, but Walter didn't budge. "You will depart this domicile, or you will be made to depart."

"You're a fucking butler!" he screamed. "You can't make me do shit!"

Walter spared a second of deliberation for the man’s life. A volatile and spoiled man of old-world wealth who had yet to do anything to ensure his own survival in the new world. He did not hunt. Did not grow stronger. A small mercy for his wife, who was so often the target of his petty anger.

They could insist the man earn his keep. That he joined the hunts. But while his wife may very well enjoy the peace of his absence, Walter had no desire for Master Daryl’s life to ever rest in this man’s hands. Perhaps it would behoove him to remove the problem at its root. An extreme measure, yes, but the rules had changed.

"Very well," Walter said. "Then I shall do exactly as the butler does... and tidy up."

Tommy and Henry both flinched as something splashed into the dark water and sank under the surface. A red stain spread out from the impact site.

"I believe there will be a fish available shortly, sirs," Walter said, and both men jumped at the sound of his voice.

They looked at him wide-eyed before grabbing their harpoons and approaching the water. Almost immediately, the water churned, and something huge broke the surface. Both men stabbed out and sank hooks into a serpent like creature. It writhed, and its heaving body threw water all around the chamber.

Henry lost his grip on his harpoon, and then Tommy slipped while trying to hold up the full weight alone. He started sliding towards the dark waters. "Ah!"

Tommy stopped screaming when Walter was suddenly there, gently pulling him back with one hand on the man and the other on the harpoon.

"Please be careful, sir." He led the man to the wall and eased him into a seated position. His other hand pulled the harpoon and the sea serpent along with it. "A most excellent strike, sir," he said while nodding to the hooked weapon sunk into the creature's head.

Before either noticed the extra stab wound on the serpent's neck, Walter pulled both harpoons free and picked up the monster, whose mouth could have swallowed any of the men in the room.

He put it away, and in the sudden silence, broken only by water dripping from the ceiling, he held out a glowing core. "I believe this is yours, sirs." He nodded to both men. "If you need help deciding who will retain it or if you would like to trade, please allow me to be of service." He bowed slightly to them and walked through the door.

Both men remained frozen until Tommy suddenly exclaimed. "It's a skill!" He frowned. "Water breathing... Should we trade it?"

Walter allowed himself a small smile as he strode down an empty hall and observed the fishing duo debating what they would do with the core. It was a fortunate circumstance that a skill appeared. They were now too excited to remember what had just happened. Not that Walter wished to deceive. But some things would cause disruption and disorder, and Walter preferred it when everything ran as it should, smoothly.

He knocked on a door. "Pardon me, ma'am."

Walter explained enough of the situation to Miss Lennon, and she graciously allowed him to escort her on the fast route. A step through her doorway, and they were three floors down. Right outside the apartment where the recently widowed Miss Copeland still cried, huddling on the floor.

"You run along now, Walter," Miss Lennon said quietly. "I'll call if I need anything."

"Very good, ma'am." He closed the door and stepped outside Daryl's door, far above. He would need to report the eviction. He knocked once before stepping through.

"One sec, Walter!" Daryl called from another room.

Walter could see and hear Daryl as he quietly talked with Adrian, even though two walls and a closed door separated them from him.

He had told everyone that calling his name would alert him, and he had not been lying. But Walter had told no one the true extent of his power, not even the Master. Such knowledge would only burden the others, and Walter was doing as he had always done, knowing when and where he was needed. He was simply much better at it now.

Walter strode to the large window while he waited and looked outside his domain at the city below. He could see the site of the battle against the invader from here. It shouldn't have been visible to his eyes, not clearly. But now, after the change that swept the world, he could see far too well.

He could see the spot where, two days ago, Adrian and Daryl had finally reappeared after not coming home the day before. It was the very worst night of his life, as he sought anyone in the tower who might go after them.

Only to see them emerge once again and run into a monster beyond anything they'd faced before.

Walter, left behind, had watched from this very spot, helpless, as they fought for their lives against that thing. He had seen far too clearly when their faces betrayed the understanding of just how strong the enemy was. He had watched the fear grow, seen it turn to desperation, and finally into despair when Cheesesteak died.

He had seen the magic building up; he knew what it would do to them, and then... Stanley had ended it. Violently and painfully. I wish you the very best, sir.

Walter dearly hoped that his gift would aid the man and would aid them all in return. Daryl had been too frightened by Stanley and had been relieved when Nate offered to take him away. Adrian had been less afraid and would have kept Stanley close despite it, but he deferred to Daryl. It wasn't his fault. He was tired. The worry for Cheesesteak had taken a toll on the normally generous man.

Both Daryl and Adrian had been carrying a heavy burden by sheltering Stanley here and by sheltering everyone else from him. That little show after he awoke and learned a new skill... A reminder of how far above them he was in power. A reminder of weakness in the face of inevitable death.

Walter did not blame them. He himself had felt nearly invincible inside his domain before that. Before Stanley.

The nightmares had been bad enough, but now he knew far too well how much his own strength was lacking.

He too feared what he'd felt from the young old man and his incessantly shedding dog. The beast lord... Walter allowed himself another small smile. He would likely never fully rid this place of dog hair... but that was a price gladly paid for the safe return of his charge.

Now Daryl would depart again. Walking into danger, and not for himself. He would depart to help others. To lead others in this new land of violent strife. To help others grow stronger.

Walter could leave the building and follow after them if he wished, and he almost had on that day. But there was a price. A price that would break his domain and leave him no stronger than an ordinary man until he claimed another home and rebuilt his domain from the beginning.

Unfortunately, ordinary men no longer had any place in this new world.

He'd made a terrible mistake that first day when the classes had been offered. He had believed Master Daryl would hide away. Believed he would only demand his luxuries and only desire to keep the party lifestyle going. He had been wrong.

"What's up, Walter?" Daryl said as he walked into the room.

Walter turned to face the young man. "I am afraid I was forced to evict a resident, sir." He had never been so pleased to be proven wrong before.

~~~Kira~~~

Kira dumped mana into the spear. Her spear!

Blood Strike

It launched from her hand and picked up more speed on its way to the zombie about to crash into Amanda.

The zombie was blasted into pieces, one of which went into Amanda's mouth and cut off her shrieking in the most disgusting way possible.

Kira ran to collect her spear and then helped the gagging girl stagger back toward the fire burning at the entrance to the tower while she screamed, "Oh god! I'm corrupted! I'm going to die!"

"Shut up. Adrian can heal you just fine."

The idiot Sven just laughed as he ran alongside. "I can't believe you swallowed it!"

Amanda started crying. It turned into a shriek when Kira rolled her eyes and shoved the girl right into the bonfire.

The fire dwindled, flowing into Amanda, including down her throat. She doubled over and vomited up something that never made it to the ground before burning to ash.

"Time to pack it in, guys. It's getting too dark," Daryl said when he appeared beside them. Or rather, when one of his clones appeared.

"Not yet," Kira said. "I'm almost there!"

"Pack it in! That is an order."

Daryl was one to talk, with his bullshit overpowered class. He didn't understand how hard it was for the rest of them. She could fight and train as hard as she wanted, and then he could just come in at the end and copy her best skill. What did he know about fighting for anything?

"I will drag you inside by your ears if you..."

"Relax, Daryl. We're coming," Sven said while rubbing the crying Amanda's back.

"Like hell! I..."

"Kira," Sven said. "Here." She hesitated at the sight of cores in his outstretched hand. "You can have mine. Is it enough?"

"Why would you give me your cores?" Kira narrowed her eyes at the kid.

"Come on, Kira. You know how many times you've saved us out here? You'll help too, right, Amanda?"

"Yeah," Amanda said between sniffles. "You're... our... friend."

"I... thanks." Kira pushed Sven's hand away. "Let's get inside first."

Together, they helped the recovering Amanda through the door and started up the stairs. It was a long climb to their apartments, though they should probably stop for dinner first.

Along the way, Kira checked her notifications.

Class: Javelin Thrower has reached the Level 25 Threshold. Evolution Available. Upgrade Available.

Her heart soared at seeing the evolution finally triggered, but she ignored it. She wanted to reach E-grade first. Not that she knew if it would be better that way, but she had a feeling.

Adrian and Daryl were no help there. They'd been born with silver spoons, and apparently it carried right on over into the system classes they received.

Still, she had a feeling.

Dinner was fish. Again. Kira barely tasted it as she counted and absorbed the cores her new teammates handed over. "I'll tell you if it works like I think it will."

"So go on!" Sven said. "Do it."

"Here? I'll wait until I get to my room."

"Come on!" Sven pleaded. "I'll carry you upstairs! I just want to know what you get."

"No way. I'd probably die after you dropped me down the stairs! Or are you just trying to get a chance to feel me up?"

Amanda gasped, but Sven only grinned and winked at her. "Only if you ask me to." He blinked and lost his cocky expression. "Feel you up, I mean. I can always use a shield in case I drop you."

"I'll walk." The kid was shameless... and grinning again.

In spite of her words, Kira all but sprinted to her room. She was so tired of being weak. Of being bullied. Both by monsters and people. Including that creepy old guy...

She barely sat down in time as the last core faded into her skin.

Evolution to E-grade has begun.

It was time, and she stared greedily at the three orbs that greeted her in the darkness—three chances to change her fate.

[Olympian Thrower](E-grade Human)

You have gone beyond the limits of your class and humanity. Keep striving for greatness.

You have killed hundreds of enemies with thrown weapons. Throw further.

You have the class, Javelin Thrower. Keep throwing.

You have evolved the class skill Javelin Strike into Blood Strike. Strike harder in your quest for blood.

You have surpassed the old limits of human potential and now have the chance to stand among the higher echelons of humanity as you ascend to a higher grade.

This will not reduce your future evolution options.

Traits: [Adaptable](100%) [Olympian]

It was disappointing. Barely better than her F-grade evolution. It also mentioned her class... Had she made a mistake by not evolving the class first? It sucked so much that she didn't even want to look at the trait.

[Death-Touched Olympian](E-grade Human)

You have survived despite repeated corruption that sought to change you into something else. Adapt to survive.

You have killed hundreds of enemies with thrown weapons. Send death with each throw.

You have the class, Javelin Thrower. Make your javelin a death-touched instrument.

You have hunted and been hunted by undead forces. No longer will you fear the corruption of their touch.

You have sworn to end all undead. Move more easily among your chosen enemy.

You have chosen to strike back against the monsters that haunt your dreams, and in doing so, you have taken a portion of their corruption to empower yourself as you ascend to a higher grade.

This will reduce your future evolution options.

Traits: [Adaptable](85%) [Death Olympian]

What the fuck!? She checked the trait this time.

[Death Olympian]

Death isn't always the end. Especially if you only have one foot in the grave.

You have adapted to feed on the corruption of undeath rather than be destroyed by it. All but the greatest corruption will now empower your flesh rather than destroy it.

Effects:

+100% - 400% Effective Physical Attributes (dependent on ambient corruption)

+100% - 400% All Regeneration (dependent on ambient corruption)

She didn't like it. Sure, it would help her kill the rotten bastards that took everything from her... but to become one of them in the process? Even if only partially... Luckily, there was one more option here. Please be good.

[Bloodthirsty Retribution](E-grade Human)

Only through blood can retribution come. Drown the world in blood.

You have been named Friend by the Beast Lord of Earth. He mourns for the lost souls and desires the end of all those who have stolen Friends from him.

You have formed a connection with the lingering echoes of a fallen soul imbued within a spear of their own creation. It approves of your purpose.

You have shed blood—your own and others'—on a spear already soaked in the blood of thousands. It wants more.

You have bound your soul to a soulspear filled with the wrathful regret of a chained god. It demands BLOOD!

You have faced a chained god and shown no fear in the face of his wrath. There is nothing more to fear.

Your weapon is a part of you and can never be taken away. You are the spear.

Step onto the path of bloodthirsty retribution and wield the fury of blood against your enemies as you ascend to a higher grade.

This will reduce your future evolution options.

Traits: [Adaptable](80%) [Bloodthirsty] [Retribution]

Wow, and what the fuck!? Kira felt a terrible chill as she recalled those eyes of pure darkness burning into her own. It couldn't be, could it? But she had felt the rage... Stanley, what the fuck are you?

[Bloodthirsty]

Blood is life. Blood is death. Blood is power.

Your weapon hungers for blood. Feed it.

Effects:

+200% - 1000% All Effective Base Attributes (dependent on blood saturation of your weapon)

It was good. Better than good. And that was only one of the two traits...

[Retribution]

You have permanently Soul-Bonded to a bloodthirsty spear that holds deep resentment against all undead creatures. It hungers for their end, and so do you.

Your Soul-Bonded spear will forgo its hunger for blood in exchange for a taste of undead flesh. Feed it.

Your Soul-Bonded spear will devour corruption, within or without. Hunt without fear of death's touch.

+200% - 1000% All Effective Base Attributes (dependent on corruption recently consumed by your bloodthirsty spear)

Despite her questions and concerns, this was exactly what she needed. She would be the retribution. She would kill all the undead, like she'd promised. I'm sorry you died, Samantha. But thank you for giving me the chance to pay those bastards back. I’ll make sure you get what you wanted!

She accepted the evolution without hesitation.