<
LOCATION: UNKNOWN
CITY: UNKNOWN
DATE: ??? | TIME: NIGHT
“No idea what kind of weapon does that though…”
Darian’s words still hung in the air when, suddenly, everyone received a system message at the same time—seemingly triggered by the final class selection.
---
System Message
Congratulations on completing your class selection.
May the journey ahead of you prove fruitful.
In this tutorial, there are six major tasks which must be completed.
While time continues to pass in the world outside, please know that you are safe. Your body is protected. And while you cannot die within the Tutorial, you can—and very likely will—experience pain.
Now that you have selected your starting class, it is time to learn about the weapons that will tread the path alongside you.
This will be your first task in the morning. Feel free to explore, or return to your inn.
---
The eighteen looked around, confirming they’d all received the same message. Gradually, they turned back toward the inn, chatting in small groups as they walked—most comparing notes on what class they had chosen.
As they approached the structure they’d awoken in, Aria Vance suddenly burst out laughing.
“Ronan—really? The Lusty Wench?”
Everyone turned to look at the hand-carved wooden sign swinging from a beam above the front steps—and immediately broke into laughter.
Ronan threw up his hands in surrender. “Hey! First of all, we had an entire team brainstorming names for every inn. Think of how massive this Tutorial is going to be when we’ve got thousands of people here at once. We’ll have shards running all over the globe. They all need names. We just thought—why not make them fun?”
Grim nodded appreciatively. “The Lusty Wench is a great fucking name, if you ask me.”
Aria elbowed him playfully. “Of course you’d say that. The only way it could be better in your twisted little mind is if it were The Busty Bimbo…”
Grim didn’t miss a beat. “Well damn, Ronan—what a missed opportunity there.”
They all laughed as they pushed through the doors and entered the main hall. The ceiling soared three stories high, the space dominated by a stone fireplace that roared with perfectly rendered flame. Tables and chairs filled the room in neat rows, every surface polished and warm.
As they walked through the door, Ronan whispered something to Elise, and both of them doubled over in laughter when the waitress emerged from behind the bar carrying two fists full of enormous glass steins.
She wore a traditional Oktoberfest dirndl—a tight-fitting bodice laced over a white, puff-sleeved blouse, the neckline cut dangerously low across a pair of enormous breasts that threatened to escape every time she leaned forward to set down one of her steins. A flared skirt swished around her thighs, cinched at the waist by a crisp apron tied in a jaunty bow. Knee-high stockings and black leather shoes completed the look, along with the frothing mugs in each hand.
She moved from table to table, delivering the beers with smooth, practiced ease, returning to the bar in between to get more. After placing the last mug, she turned to the group with a dazzling smile.
“Wilkommen to The Lusty Wench!” she said cheerfully. “I am Liesl, and I’ll be taking care of you during your stay. Tonight we have just the house ale, but breakfast will be ready when you wake. If there’s anything I can do to make your night more... comfortable, feel free to ask me—or the Innkeeper, whom you’ll meet tomorrow, I’m sure.”
She turned, hips swaying in an exaggerated strut, then paused and looked back over her shoulder with a wink.
“Oh—by the way, your rooms, food, and drink? All taken care of. Some mysterious elderly gentleman stopped by yesterday and paid in advance. Very generous, that one.” She grinned. “Anyway—enjoy your night.”
The group drank beer and chatted late into the night, their bond strengthening with every passing hour. What had begun as a coordinated mission now felt like something deeper—a shared purpose, forged in laughter and sharpened by the weight of what lay ahead.
Eventually, it was time to sleep. Even in the Tutorial, it seemed their bodies and minds still needed rest.
The next morning, Grim and Brick were the first to rise and make their way downstairs. Aria, Mallory, and Vanessa followed soon after, and within half an hour, all eighteen were seated in the main hall of the inn, enjoying a hearty breakfast.
To everyone’s surprise, the table featured not just eggs and thick-cut toast but coffee—actual coffee. It was a jarring detail against the otherwise medieval vibe of the village, but no one was about to question it.
Just as Liesl moved through the room to collect empty plates and mugs, a door in the back creaked open, and a middle-aged woman stepped into the room.
“Good morning, everyone, and welcome to The Lusty Wench!” she said with a warm smile. “I’m Greta, the Innkeeper. We here at the inn—along with the other residents of Grimwatch—are glad to have you. If there’s anything you need during your stay, just let me or Liesl know.”
With that, she nodded politely and disappeared back through the same door, Liesl following close behind.
Trust Grim to break the silence first.
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“Seriously, Ronan? Grimwatch?”
That did it.
The dam broke, and the room exploded into laughter.
Once the noise began to settle, Ronan raised his hands in mock defense.
“In my defense,” he said, “aside from this cohort and the Peacekeepers, nobody will know who you are. And anyway, I don’t want to spoil anything, but the Peacekeeper Tutorial? Whole different vibe. No medieval inns. Although…” He smirked. “There may still be lusty wenches.”
A few snorts of laughter broke out around the table.
“And Grimwatch is a great fucking name for a village like this. Come on.”
Grudgingly, everyone kind of had to agree.
The moment of levity hung for just a beat—until a soft chime echoed inside their heads.
Each of them froze, eyes focused on their individual interfaces. A new notification had just appeared in their field of vision.
---
System Message
Good morning.
Welcome to the first full day of your Tutorial.
Your time here is tailored to help you understand your new body, discover your skills, and prepare you for the world that awaits you beyond this place.
You will be tested in many ways—some obvious, others not.
If you strive to improve and remain true to yourself, your advancement will be smooth and rewarding.
If you attempt to coast, deceive or take shortcuts, your challenges will increase until you eventually begin to backslide.
The path forward for humanity is one of trial, adaptation, and strength through adversity. You will learn more of this in time.
Today, your goal is to obtain a weapon that reflects the class you selected yesterday. Focus on your interface and think: “Map.” A location will appear, pulsing in your vision. This is where your journey truly begins.
---
A few minutes of chatting, and the group realized that everyone would head north out of Grimwatch but that their paths all broke off in separate directions from there.
A few asked Ronan what to expect on this first day, but Ronan refused to answer any questions.
“I know it’s a little unfair given that Vanessa’s team and mine know a little more about what’s to come, but let’s all just experience it all organically like everyone else will. That way, more of us have a clean slate impression and can tweak things that need tweaking before the global rollout. That sound okay?”
Mallory said, “Well, I don’t disagree. So if that’s the case, I suppose it’s time to get moving. Good luck, everyone! I’m looking forward to hearing about what you all experienced today when we sit down again for dinner.”
And with that, they all stood and headed out, kicking off what turned out to be a very long day. They started their hike north out of the village, quiet anticipation hanging over the group.
Graham left the inn with everyone, and soon after they topped the hill, saw a well-trodden dirt path leading west of the road into the dense forest. He was the first one to break off from the larger group.
“Welp, this is me. Have a good one, everybody, and stay safe,” he called out as he started down the winding path.
Brick muttered something about senior discounts. Aria added a crack about handicap parking. Grim just flipped them the bird over his shoulder without looking back.
Ronan said, “Our paths today are tailored to each one of us. Grim may have the closest path from the main road, but don’t think he’ll have an easy time today. Warriors will have to test their mettle in many different ways.”
That killed the joking vibe right away, and aside from a few low murmurs, everyone was pretty quiet as they trudged forward.
Grim found himself trudging through a forest. Sunlight still shone through the tall trees, but the feeling in the woods was somber and quiet. He was on alert, like a wild animal might jump him at any moment, and he tried to stay as silent as he could as he stalked forward. Soon, he noticed a woman standing against a tree in the distance. She leaned against the bark, eating an apple, carving off pieces with a dagger.
Despite Grim’s efforts to stay stealthy, she noticed him right away and waved him over.
“You stomp through the forest like a recruit, Thorne. Thought you’d have fixed that by now.”
His cover blown anyway, he stood fully upright and walked openly toward a log where the woman had taken a seat, waiting for his arrival as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
As Graham drew closer, he noticed more details about the woman. She had long black hair, tied back neatly in a high ponytail, and as she sat there nonchalantly eating small pieces of her apple, he recognized her and froze.
“Officer Kincaid? Is that you?”
She patted the log next to where she sat, and Graham sat down, still amazed at seeing the first training officer assigned to him when he joined the Navy, right out of high school. She hadn’t aged a day, while Grim showed signs of some hard years. And some hard-fought battles.
Out of respect for Mara Kincaid, Graham stayed silent and let her speak when she was ready.
“Very good, Thorne. I realize you are not the young man I had the job of reshaping way back then, but the deference you still show me speaks to your character. I have very little to teach you now—just… maybe a few pointers.”
Grim nodded and waited for her to continue. He was a warrior, and one aspect of being a true warrior down to your soul is to know that there is always more to learn. A true warrior is never at his apex.
“You’ve come a long way,” she said. “When I look at your actions throughout your life and career, I can honestly say I’m impressed. And proud of you. You haven’t been perfect, but that’s never how warriors measure themselves.”
She paused a moment, reading something in his eyes.
“What makes you stand out is your conviction. You’ve always had an inner code—long before I ever got my hands on you. And you’ve followed it, right up until this moment.”
Graham Thorne, grizzled veteran that he was, felt tears beginning to well up in his eyes. This was high praise indeed. Mara Kincaid was legendary in the Navy. Many of the SEALs Graham went on to serve alongside had been chewed up and spat back out by this instructor—all of them better for her hard attentions. He nodded again, still silent.
She continued. “Stay true to yourself and you’ll find your path forward obvious. This is a challenge for most others—but not for you. Your challenge is figuring out where you fit in the grand scheme of things. Protecting others is second nature for you. Never change that. But stepping up and taking the reins? That won’t be easy. You’ve always been good at following orders. Let’s see how you do when it’s your turn to issue them.”
With those words, Chief Petty Officer Mara Kincaid—one of the most influential instructors from Graham’s early days—vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving only her iconic voice ringing in his head.
Graham sat on the log for several minutes after Mara vanished, letting her words settle like stone in still water. She was right. He’d always been good at taking orders—executing missions, adapting on the fly, cleaning up messes other people made. But he’d never been the one to draw the lines on the map. Never been the one with the vision.
He was the blade. Not the hand that wielded it.
But now the world was changing. And like it or not, so was he.
The combat capabilities of Earth—the power to defend humanity against whatever came next—were falling into his hands. That old soldier’s oath still echoed: protect against all enemies, foreign and domestic. But this was something else entirely.
Now the enemy might come from beyond Earth. Maybe even beyond this universe.
Voss had hinted at it more than once—a multiverse teeming with life, with powers and civilizations that made Earth's wars look like playground scuffles. Some might come peacefully. Others wouldn’t.
And when that day came, humanity wouldn’t have time to catch up.
It would need warriors ready now.
Graham didn’t know how to carry that burden. Not yet. But he did know this: there was no one else. No second string. No cavalry waiting in the wings.
Earth would need a shield.
Not one forged by destiny.
But one hammered out by choice.
And he was already standing in the breach, holding the line.
Just nobody knew it yet.
With quiet, firm determination set on his face, he stood—and continued down the forest path.