The woman trembles so hard she can’t hold the cup John hands her and water spills on her lap. She doesn’t notice.

She looks entirely human now. In the mid-fifties, wearing a blouse that, other than being dirty and ripped, could be for a business meeting. The one shoe she still has on looks like it’s made to be standing for hours.

The teen’s a... teen. His t-shirt has a design on it that’s probably some popular show. His jeans are worn and his hair’s long and messy. He might be catatonic.

The man’s in the best condition of the three. He’s wearing jeans, a thick wool shirt, and utility vest. The hiking boots make me think he’s the outdoors type. This being Virginia, possibly a hunter.

Elizabeth is looking after him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like the world’s gone fucking crazy.” He looks away. “Sorry.”

“I’m Liz.”

“Donny.”

She hands him a cup. “It’s water. Sorry, we don’t have anything stronger.”

He sips it.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

He snorts. “Not sure you’re going to believe me.”

“We’ve all seen the system,” Terry says.

“The system?”

“Didn’t you get that message a few weeks ago about the system taking over, about creating a character sheet, picking a class?”

“That’s… yeah. I kind of remember that. The sky went red. I think I did pick a class. The days before things went nuts are fuzzy.”

“How did they go nuts?” I ask.

He looks at me, his eyes are glassy.

“The craziest thing is how normal it felt. Part of me could tell just how impossible it was that my body seemed to be made of melting rubber, or that I had foot-long claws, or that nothing seemed to be ‘solid’. But it was locked deep at the back of my mind as I just went on with my day.”

“So it didn’t happen right from the start?” Terry asks.

The man shakes his head and focuses on him. “I sort of remember things getting chaotic. Nothing worked, people panicked. Then…” He shudders. “There’s this thunderclap, but the sky’s bright blue and cloudless.”

“Where did it come from?”

The man shrugs. “I remember this green glow approaching.”

“Like that?” Terry points to the wall of pale green on the other side of the road.

The man freaks and scrambles away. I grab him and he fights me.

“Run! We’ve got to run! I don’t want to go back to that.”

“It’s not moving,” I tell him. “Stop struggling.”

He doesn’t.

“You’re safe, Donny,” Elizabeth says. “Look at me. You’re safe. We got here hours ago, and it hasn’t moved in that time.”

“It’s reached the limit of its influence,” Terry adds. “I think the system’s containing it.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, and he shrugs. Donny calms, and I loosen my hold, ready for him to bolt. He looks around, but stays in place.

“Not really, but we couldn’t access the system in there, so I doubt it would want that to spread.”

“Wouldn’t that imply it’s sentient?” John asks.

Terry shakes his head. “Survival instinct doesn’t need sentience. I saw a documentary once on how plants literally go to war to protect their turfs from invasive species. Animals will fight to the death to stay alive.”

“But I got the sense the system’s just a program,” Albert says.

“Survival’s just code, right? How hard would it be to add something that ensures it reacts to something cutting it off?”

“No idea,” the bogbear replies. “Not a programmer.”

“The kid has a point,” John says. “Whatever the system is, it’s complex. So it might have a way to deal with whatever that is.”

“Only up to a point,” I point out. “Otherwise it would have pushed it back.”

“It didn’t happen all at once,” Donny says. He sounds steadier. “I remember it being like that, pale. I changed, but I was more aware that it was wrong. I freaked hard, but I had no idea what to do. Then another thunderclap sounded, and it was followed by another wave of green, and that part that screamed this was wrong was pushed away, and I went back to my life.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“And what’s your life?” John asks.

“I’m a hunter. I supply game to a couple of restaurants that specialize in wild meats.”

“And you went back to hunting?”

Donny opens his mouth, then frowns. “No. I tried to, but anytime I got close to where the green lightened, I’d have this sense that whatever was on the other side was wrong. That it was where the monsters lived. I don’t think I got anywhere close to leaving the city.”

“I knew it!” Terry grins. “It’s using the city demarcations. Just like Harrisonburg. There’s got to be some criteria the zones have to meet if they’re going to expand.”

“What are you talking about?” Donny asks.

“Harrisonburg’s got different zones as different levels of ‘civilization’ based on how many people are in it, businesses, and probably other stuff. I couldn’t look into it, but it’s basic for city builder games.”

Donny stared at Terry.

“Doesn’t that mean that if there are less people in Winchester,” John says, “the zone’s going to shrink?”

“It depends on what all the criteria are, but yeah, population size is at the core of nearly all of those games.”

“Games?” Donny asks.

“Yes. The world’s run like a giant mashup of different kinds of video games. That’s what the system did.”

“That’s insane.”

“No more than you being some melted creature less than an hour ago,” I point out.

“Less,” Terry says. “The system makes sense, while what’s in there doesn’t.”

“But you think that however it works, it needs the people to stay?” John asks.

“Like I said, it’s at the core of most city building game.”

John nods. “Then all we have to do is take the people out of there.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding.”

John stares at me. “We can’t leave them there.”

“Did it escape you that they didn’t want to leave? These three were writhing and screaming. You had to shoot them.”

“He what?” Donny checks himself.

“Just stun shots,” John says. “You weren’t reacting well to what was going on.”

“You were taking me to the monsters. How the fuck did you think I was going to—” Donny frowns. “Okay, I get why you shot me.”

“Then we’re going to have to deal with all those people,” I point out, and add, because I realize that’s not the downside for them, it is for me. “How are we going to feed all of them?”

“How far are we from Cross Junction?” John asks.

“How should I know?”

He looks to Albert.

“I’m not sure. Driving was about an hour and a half from Harrisonburg. I think it’s about an hour to Winchester. So, thirty miles?”

“That’s a five-day’s walk at most,” John says. “We can spend more time hunting. That’ll deal with the food issue, Yes Terry?” he says at the raised hand.

“That’s if the road’s okay, like what we’re on now. If it gets worse, it’s going to slow us down a lot.”

“And we can deal with that,” John says. “We have me, Chuck, Al, and Deloy that can hunt. The way Chuck keeps running into those big monsters, we can probably manage with just following him around and killing those.”

“Monsters?” Donny asks.

“Yeah,” Terry replies, “The system turned pretty much every animal into a larger version of itself. Stronger, something with powers. If there’s enough, one will turn into an even more powerful version. Haven’t figured out that one, but I’m pretty sure those are what Chuck keeps running into. There’s also a point where there’s going to be a boss monster in the batch.”

“Don’t question him,” John tells Donny as he opens his mouth. “The kid’s been right more often than wrong since all this started.”

“Some people too,” Albert adds and smiles when Donny looks at him.

The man screams and I grab him as he attempts to run away,

“He’s not a monster,” Terry says. “The system gave us other races we could pick. Deloy’s a Worgen, looks like a werewolf.”

“And you guys are okay with that?” Donny looks at everyone, except Albert.

“He’s a person,” I say and Donny wrenches out of my grip to get away from me.

“Don’t let the tone scare you,” John says. “It’s just how he speaks.”

Donny calms down.

“The bottom line,” John says, “is that we can’t leave those people in there to suffer.”

“They aren’t suffering,” I counter and look at Donny, who takes a step back before catching himself.

“I…” he swallows. “It felt normal, but,” he continues as I open my mouth, “on some level, I knew things weren’t right.”

“But you weren’t suffering,” I insist.

“Chuck,” Elizabeth says, “it’s the right thing to do.”

I ground my teeth. Punching people isn’t right, ever.

My father snorts.

Fine, this isn’t one of those times when it’s right.

Only because you decided it isn’t.

“You don’t have to help if you don’t want to Chuck,” John says and I take a step in his direction.

Terry is between us.

“Move.”

“He’s not accusing you of anything.”

“Terry. Move.”

“What’s your debuffs,” Albert asks.

“I don’t have,” I growl, and notice the one that’s turning from yellow to orange. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I spin and walk away, willing the debuff away. I punch the first tree I come across and a large chunk rips out. It takes three more before my willpower stops dropping. It’s as if each time I have to will that debuff away it takes more work. Or maybe it just takes me more time to notice it and that’s why it’s harder.

“What was that about?” John asks.

“Don’t,” I tell Albert, and my willpower starts to drop.

“You should tell them.”

“Chuck,” Elizabeth says, “we—”

“Don’t, Elizabeth.” It’s below a quarter. “This isn’t something I talk about.”

“We’d be in a better position to help you, if—”

“Did I fucking ask for help?” I yell at John. “Did I fucking ask for any of this? You all fucking forced yourself in my life! I fucking told you to stay in Harrisonburg or go your fucking way!”

“Chuck,” Albert takes a step in my direction.

“I fucking swear, Albert. If you even try to help me, I’m going to punch you back to your uncle. I don’t have one fucking debuff. This is me, fucking tired of dealing with the lot of you, I’m running out of willpower and you just keep hammering at it when I tell you to stop!”

“Okay.” John’s hands are up. “No judgment here. I’m going to help as many of them as I can. I’m not asking you to help. If you want to head to Cross Junction without us, I get it. We can meet up with you there.”

I turn.

“I’m helping,” Terry says.

I freeze.

You have got to be kidding me. He isn’t your responsibility.

I took him on as my ward.

Then just drop him. It’s not like you owe him anything. He’s got his mother. She can take care of him.

Is that how you justified it? Was it that easy for you to leave us? I had mom, so you could just leave? Do you have any idea how much it hurt, that you just vanished? You didn’t even have the decency to leave an explanation! Fuck. You’re not him, you can’t give me answers.

I can tell you what you want to hear.

I don’t want to hear it.

I’m you, so I know—

I am not abandoning him, like my father abandoned me.

I turn and face them. My willpower is already trickling down. “I’m going to help. I don’t have the willpower to listen to you, John.” The man closes his mouth. “I need to go find something to hit, feel free to start without me, but I’m going to be back, and I’m going to help. And John?”

Don’t, Chuck. If you’re going to be an idiot, do not be the kind that hands others that kind of leverage over them.

“Yes?”

“Keep everyone safe. You saw how they reacted to us in there. They’re going to fight you tooth and nail.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be careful. And Chuck?”

I stop, half turn. “What?”

“Thanks.”

I roll my eyes and head for the tree line.