We stood in the second-floor office of the hotel yet again. With me were Cindy, Taylor, and Donny, of course, as well as Mr. and Ms. Garcia. Also present were a few people I hadn’t formally met but recognized from around the camp. Then, there was Stephanie, followed by the two rescued police officers, Daryl and Rupert.

I had spent the better part of an hour slowly explaining my encounter in the police station, leaving nothing out, even over my conversation with Luna. I didn’t want to sugar-coat the cruel acts of the cult of Gors nor the vital information I learned from the administrator.

The looks I got from everyone seemed to fluctuate between disbelief and horror as I explained how many had been killed over the past few days, picked off as they attempted to seek help. When I started to discuss my talk with Luna on the way back, the looks grew even more incredulous.

“Do we need to worry about their member’s strength, now? They’ve killed lots of people; they could be close to reaching the next tier,” Donny commented, face grim.

I was quick to assuage his fears.

“I don’t think so, Donny. I’ve only ever increased the strength of my Core by killing a wild monster. I gained nothing from killing cultists aside from skill increases. Even then, most of my skill increases, or at least the most efficient ones came from training.”

“Ms. Gale is correct.”

Stephanie interjected, and I turned my eyes to her. Her expression was serene.

“The rank of my body has yet to increase even once since the siege on the precinct started, and I killed at least fifteen of these cultists personally. We can assume that they are still relatively weak, system-wise. Their danger will come from the blessing of Gors, which we’ve already discussed to some length.”

A bout of smoke erupted from Donny’s nostrils as he snorted. He had been working on his dragon breath as he started to craft and work with metals, and little bursts of flame or smoke coming from his nose were growing commonplace while he conversed. I couldn’t figure out if he was growing in strength or just thought it looked cool.

Taylor’s vines twitched and tangled, flipping through the air in aggravated curls. It was clear she was growing frustrated.

“So what? It doesn’t matter that they’re not super strong. There’s supposed to be a small army of them! How are we supposed to get this boy from their camp?”

The boy. The thing that could supposedly make or break the survival of Austin, Texas, and all of its citizens. Even now, I struggled to believe what Luna had told me.

During the first wave, a boy was transformed into a unique form of monster called an Infernal Demonkin, and his powerset was highly concerning. He has the innate ability to summon Demon Flame, the very same purple fire I saw on the news before the helicopter crash. It could burn everything it touched, turning it into pure mana.

Just like all other members of the first wave, his skillset, race, and character archetype had been curated into a build H.G., and Luna believed would suit him. It was the only advantage that everyone in the first wave had over the other waves; we started with a character archetype and didn’t have to find and develop ours, and our race and skills catered to our personalities. It was a huge step up compared to everyone else but wasn’t as insurmountable a gap as I had feared.

This boy, in particular, had a fascinating build. His entire skill set and race were centered around using infernal fire to the absolute maximum ability from the start. Because of this, he was, by far, the most deadly member of the first wave in the entire city.

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According to Luna, it wasn’t a particularly notable ability after the first Tier barrier, but before then, it was unbeatable. If the cult managed to get him to agree to a contract with Gors, they had the potential to end just about everyone in the city before we could do something about it. The entire reason Stephanie had been in the police precinct was that it was the one closest to the fire where the boy had first transformed and had been waiting there at Luna’s request.

Then, there was the crux of the problem. The boy was only eight years old. Not old enough to fight for himself beyond lashing out, but also not old enough to accept the deal with Gors without conscious effort.

He was also traumatized beyond belief. His parents were killed in the fire he caused after transforming, which to an eight-year-old must feel like the world was coming down on his shoulders. According to Luna, he had been in and out of consciousness since.

The Cultists had been ordered to wait at the precinct, as he was supposed to arrive there with some police officers who took him off the hands of the fire department, but he never made it. The second wave struck while they were driving, making travel impossible.

Luna could temporarily jack into his menu, figuring out vaguely where he was. Still, she could not connect to him as she could with Stephanie and me, likely due to the unique nature of our transformations. The totality of her ability over him let her nudge him into a magical trance, a coma that would keep him under in the meantime.

According to Luna, she confirmed that the cult of Gors had managed to find and capture him and that he was taken somewhere with lots of fire to the north of the precinct.

Leaving my thoughts, I turned back to the conversation. A small argument had broken out between Taylor and the police officers regarding whether we should bother attacking the cults. Whether the fight was even worth it.

“What the hell are we supposed to do?!? I’m not a member of the SWAT team!”

“We do what we need to, and that’s that,” Daryl growled, with Rupert nodding along, his rabbit ears bobbing up and down.

“Well, fuck that! I want no part of this shit!”

Feeling the familiar anger still simmering in my chest, I finally had enough.

“Stop! We already know these cultists have no issue killing. They killed Kaitlyn’s parents and countless others, and if they were here, I guarantee they’d kill us as well.”

By the end, I was practically screaming. Everyone in the whole hotel probably heard me. Taylor was shrinking back and had started to tear up. I felt guilt fall into my stomach with the weight of a brick.

Feeling a hand on my arm, I turned and saw Cindy looking at me with concern. She gazed deeply into my eyes before speaking in a calm tone.

“It’s fine, Vic. We’re not the people for this job, not really. You know it’s true.”

With a flash of magic, her eyes shifted, glowing with strength and power. She turned to the room at large.

“But who else is there? What other choice do we have?”

The silence that followed was answered enough. After the room had settled, she shifted back to me.

“Luna, what are our odds of winning in a fight against these cultists?”

The alert arrived quickly.

SysAdmin_Luna: You'd win every time in a one-on-one confrontation against any of the cultists. The power of your curated skill sheets is far superior. The followers of Gors seem ill-adapted to arranging their skills efficiently, likely due to mental manipulation. They’ve been hampering their ability to fight from the very start.

SysAdmin_Luna: If you isolate your goals to stopping the cult leadership and rescuing the boy, your odds of success are relatively high. Even more so if a few of you can increase your strength by killing some of the randomly spawning monsters.

After relaying Luna’s comments to the group, everyone seemed lost in thought. Though fighting head-on against that many people was daunting, I knew well from the games I’d played how quickly a good build could crush a bad one.

Mr. Garcia, who had been silent so far, slowly raised his hand.

“Ms. Luna, how much time do we have before we need to attack them? How long will the boy remain asleep?”

SysAdmin_Luna: He should stay asleep until the next wave arrives, which should be a full seven days from the second. He won’t need much food or water in his current state due to the magical nature of his race.

I relayed her words again, releasing a wave of relief to everyone in the group. We had intel on when the next wave would come, as well as time to train between now and then to maximize our chances of success, as well as find other people who could potentially help us fight. With that understood, the group decided to separate ways, ending the meeting.

Understanding that the following week would be busy, the room cleared quickly, and everyone headed to bed. We had a lot of work to do tomorrow.