Author's Note - Showing a new POV! - Eric does make an appearance, and we get to see a glimpse of him from an outsider's perspective :) - Also, we're just a hair under 10,000 words today! So please enjoy :D.

  Sammy couldn’t wipe the smile of her freckled face as she and her companions crept through the waist-high grass to the forest of giant ferns, just ahead. Her heart swelled with excitement as the eerie and oddly comforting cries, hoots and lonely trumpet-like calls of the forest washed over them. She traded smiles with her fellow spear-wielding companions, all of their guts tingling with that odd sensation of excitement and dread that made them feel so alive.

  The hunt was about to begin. A hunt that could seen them prosper with a fortune in meat, hide, and animal parts. A hunt that might even allow a few of them to savor the most glorious of all highs, the ability to reshape themselves on a fundamental level, with the power of a level-up, becoming faster, stronger, and deadlier than they could have ever imagined in the before times most of them had done their best to forget. And really, as much as she missed Self-Tube videos, doom scrolling, and going out with friends, was she really missing that much? Instead of work buddies she now caroused with true brothers and sisters of the heart, and the hunt. People she loved fiercely and would never betray. Friendships that went far beyond alliances of convenience which was pretty much all that the modern world had once had to offer.

  No. She was happy enough to let the past remain firmly in the past, especially that awful period in Gilton, and focus on the glories of the here and now.

  Most specifically their target that they were approaching through the thick undergrowth as quietly and carefully as they could.

  A massive prehistoric behemoth far more massive than any mastodon that was covered in thick hide plates.

  Sammy wrinkled her nose, the air smelling like an odd mixture of freshly mulched fields and the rhinoceros poop she had gotten a bit too close and personal to during her zoology internship.

  “Wow, these creatures reek! Don’t they, Sammy?”

  She nodded to the anxious boy whispering at he side, covering for his nerves with banter as he always did. Only sixteen, he always had a smile on his lips and a haunted look to his eyes, but he was no slouch, having trained just as hard with the spear over this past hellish year as she had.

  “It does, Tim. No doubt. Now keep focused on this girl. When she stops chewing her cud, we freeze and wait for her to grab another mouthful of juicy ferns.” She whispered back, before raising her hands and flashing the code the entire group of six fully understood, earning a nod from the team captain serving as their tank. The only one in thick steel armor radiating enchantments or class perks, she never could tell which.

  Everyone else was wearing beast hides enhanced by their leatherworker’s incredibly useful professional perks, and they were more than grateful to have it. Over fifty pounds of thick, carefully treated rawhide that would have shrugged off 14th century crossbow bolts like they were nothing, and it didn’t slow her or the others down a bit. She could now move faster and more gracefully than Olympic track stars or figure skaters ever could, and she could snatch a thousand pounds like it was nothing.

  And that was just the beginning of how far she had come, working so damn hard to prove herself. To be so much more than the broken, crying former slave with a collar around her neck some wild Contender had rescued from Gilton, all those months back.

  The sound of a fern smashing to the ground froze the entire party. Their cocky smiles and careful steps becoming absolute stillness, a skill they had practiced almost as much as tracking, crossbows, and spears... doing all they could to be hunters worthy of Orange-tier prey.

  The alarmed bellow of the ankylosaurus they were slowly approaching filled the air.

  Sammy’s heart was pounding, ears ringing as her throat became dry, knowing damn well just how deadly was the game they were hunting.

  She traded a quick glance with Ron, stalwart as hell with his salt and pepper beard to his left, though his face was unlined and his body beyond powerful, before slowly clasping a trembling Tim’s shoulder with her right. “Freeze, Tim. It’s cool. We just need to let it settle down.”

  Timmy’s breaths came in rapid gasp that cut off with a wheeze as the giant behemoth of a herbivore cast baleful eyes their way. Glaring at the underbrush they had slipping so quietly through before freezing utterly still. With a loud snort, it turned back around to munch on the trunk of the massive fern it had slammed over with the giant club on the end of its tale, using it in ways no paleontologist she had studied under had ever suggested that they could. And perhaps their prehistoric counterparts normally didn’t… but the System variants certainly did.

  Her stomach twisted in anxious knots, well aware that tail could smash even a steel-covered Ron to pulp, if his enchantments didn’t hold.

  By silent agreement, they all stood perfectly still for long moments. Making sure, damn sure, that their prey was well and truly settled into its meal before they dared approach any closer.

  Sammy shifted her grip on her ten foot spear that she had dared to invest a tiny piece of herself in making so strong and sharp when she hit her Level 30 class milestone that it was itself a treasure. Sure, her guild mates had smirked and given her a look like they would a child who spends all his hard-earned money on shit food and comics when she had shelled out every last credit she had made, even borrowing from her friends, because sure as hell she wouldn’t borrow from a goblin bank, all to purchase a special-order spear from the finest crafter in all of New York. Of course her friends thought she was a splurging idiot because it would break sooner or later and their corp made the sturdiest already, but Sammy knew it had been worth it.

  Unlike even the best spears their craftsmen made, this one wasn’t going to break, no matter what. Not even when ramming into targets with 50 Strength and all the quickness and power she could generate behind the thrust. More importantly, she had another reason for giving a tiny piece of herself into its forging. A secret she had kept even from her spear brothers and sisters. A secret she kept from everyone save for Ron himself.

  She was one of the very few Classers, it seemed, who had hit Journeyman in not just one but several Skills, and had actually been offered powerful weapon feats that made her just as deadly as Fighters using their class perks, assuming the rumors were true. She wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t going to share it, but it was why her attribute spread was a bit unorthodox. She had invested in a trait that half her friends couldn’t even pull up on the character sheets they shared. She hadn’t been able to either, not until she really took the time to understand the source of her weariness whenever she used her weapon feat more than twice in a fight. Because getting dizzy on a hunt was a good way to get killed. It was a weariness that required a good hour’s uninterrupted rest someplace she actually felt safe.

  Once she had made the connection, she had done all she could to force even a single point into that mysterious source of weapon feat-boosting reserves, whatever it was, and then the attribute had popped up like it had always been there.

  Soul Reserves.

  Even the name gave her chills, as did the fact that she had invested a whole point into bonding her spear to her soul when the System offered her the opportunity. Yet she hoped all her points invested in that attribute made up for it, and being able to use her ace in the hole three times as often as she otherwise would was a priceless boon.

  She frowned at the behemoth presently chewing a mouthful of fern, its massive clubbed tail still swinging nervously. A quick look Ron’s way, and his cool head shake made it clear that she and her companions weren’t coming any closer.

  Not yet.

  Which was a relief. Because Sammy’s instincts were telling her the exact same thing.

  So she took a moment to glimpse the mental tab that always served as a source of comfort. A marker for how far she had come from the broken, shattered former intern who had just barely survived the apocalypse to now, when she was thriving in truth.

  Sammy Blackwell: Class - Level 35 Primal Hunter / Profession - Level 20 Hunter

  Attributes

  Strength 50 / Vitality 40 / Finesse 45 / Quickness 60 / Appearance (Cute!) / Scholarship (College Grad! Yay!) / Perception 45 / Willpower (Tougher than most. You’re a survivor!) / Charisma (Average. You’re fine. Stop worrying!) / Soul Reserves 29

  Skills of Note

  Spear – Rank 15 (20!) (Piercing Strike) / Stealth – Rank 12 (17!) (Hunter’s Grace) / Crossbow – Rank 10 (15!) (Rapid Reload) / Tracking – Rank 7 (12!) / *Instant Field Dressing / *Pristine Preservation / *Game Storage

  Despite the tension of the hunt, Sammy couldn’t help but crack a smile as her leather-gloved hands tightly clenched the spear that she could now use like an extension of herself.

  She had been as surprised as could be to find out she had an Advanced class waiting for her after she had joined Silver Griffins Corp and taken their advice to condense her core to whatever degree she could. It was a choice that required trust. She knew it could be extremely risky if you didn’t have people at your back that you trusted with your life. Foolish as it might have been, she was desperate, and had actually dared to trust the first group of people she had run across after escaping her former nightmare of a life.

  Much to her cynical surprise, instead of taking gross advantage of her, they had basically built her up from nothing and given her a second chance at a life worth living, teaching her not only how to survive but how to outright thrive in this insane new world right out of one of her brother’s video games.

  And for that incredible gift of friendship, community, knowledge, and just being around people who genuinely cared about her, she would always be grateful. They had more than earned her lifelong loyalty. It was why she had politely turned down not one but two offers from elite corps, one with actual city Administrative connections, after their last hunt where maybe she had shined just a bit brighter than she should have. Truly, her Primal Hunter class from origins unknown had been a godsend. Absolutely perfect for the hunts that the Silver Griffins corp specialized in.

  When she had earned the option to claim the Hunting Profession after bagging her first prehistoric kill, an option she intuitively sensed would only be available if she grabbed it right at that very moment when a corner of her mind tingled with how she could wrap space itself around her kill and instantly dress and claim it with the wisdom of countless hunter-gather ancestors, she didn’t hesitate for a second to grab it. And she was shocked and delighted beyond belief to find out that not only did it give her the ability to instantly dress and preserve and store any kill her party made, including prepping the hide and horns and other odd bits, making her an absolutely invaluable resource to the whole team and earning their undying love, but it also gave her a +1 to each of her core skills related to hunting, which at Professional Level 20, meant that she was getting +5 to her four key skills!

  Though she did smile at her quirky character sheet. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who had certain attributes they just couldn’t advance. That it was actually quite common, save for the true elites. Heck, she didn’t even see numbers for her more mental attributes, though she found it oddly comforting that her interface sheet at least gave her warm and positive messages, and it even thought she was cute!

  Even if sometimes she wondered what it would be like to be as smart as Einstein or as beautiful as Elonia Silver, she knew she was incredibly fortunate to have the talents and opportunity that she did have. An Advanced class, overlapping synergistic abilities, and a rare knack for skills related to hunting and weapon feats. She had even been able to open and access her Soul Reserves attribute which synergized so well with her spear’s Piercing Strike ability, when most of her friends couldn’t access any sort of magical attribute at all.

  Even if she still couldn’t figure out how to use a wand, no matter how patient Ellie was with her and everyone else who asked for lessons. Her eyes twinkled in memory of just how awful she and pretty much everyone else she knew was with arcane tools. Crackling sparks being all that her friend Timmy could manage, and that was better than her! And they had all laughed off their foibles, along with Ellie, their guild mage, before dipping into their mead reserves and enjoying a good drink to celebrate how well they had done this past month.

  Despite her imperfections, her body was that of an ancient Grecian hero, she had a class and path she was truly proud of and enjoyed, and she wielded a spear like a legend in the making. And for those boons, she would be grateful every day of her life.

  “Sammy, you ready?”

  Cheeks flushing, she snapped to instant focus, giving a quietly whispering Ron a solemn nod, and he didn’t glare or condemn her, even if Timmy snickered. Because half of a good hunt was about having the discipline and patience to stand utterly still when needed, and if she was woolgathering for a few seconds, who cared? And none of that mattered any longer as Ron flashed his hand in the signals that everyone, even those among them who had no capacity to put any points into leveling up their brains in any way, had committed to absolute memory.

  Their prehistoric prey was distracted. One by one, they carefully and quietly slipped out from under cover, their leather-soled boots making absolutely no noise as they padded through the loamy soil.

  Sammy’s heart was pounding as she forced herself to take slow, steady breaths as they approached the giant behemoth.

  The ripe scent of rhinoceros-like musk filled the air, mixing with the bright floral aroma of mashed ferns and the rich scent of dung as they approached.

  Closer and closer as the giant ankylosaurus continued munching, its giant maw effortlessly tearing massive chunks from the thick fern it was devouring and Sammy could tell from Tim’s wheeze that he sensed just as she did how effortlessly that thing could tear any of them in half, if it got its jaws around any of them.

  But the real threat was the slowly swaying tail as sixty feet became thirty.

  Then twenty.

  Ron raised a clenched fist.

  Everyone stopped cold, even as the air echoed with far off roars and screeches. Perhaps a pair of triceratops bulls vying for mates… perhaps one of the few natural predators that Ron assured rarely strayed from the heart of the territory... or perhaps something else.

  All that mattered to Sammy was whether or not the distant sounds of far off battle would upset their prey.

  Yet all the ankylosaurus cow did was tear free a fresh mouthful of thick, juicy fern.

  Ron gave a relieved, silent nod, as did Sammy.

  He then gave the signal.

  Sammy took a shuddering breath, stomach tying itself in anxious knots, her ears now ringing with the awful tension she felt, preparing herself for what was to come.

  This was it.

  What all the hours of training, all the team building and nights losing themselves in celebration all led up to.

  This.

  The ultimate hunt.

  Victory would see them swimming in resources that would see their whole corp in good standing, with plenty to trade to other corps without having to deal with cutthroat goblin or gnoll merchants at all. This would see them eating delicious fresh steaks and trading excess for plenty of honey mead from Exalt corp and other friends as well.

  But all it took was a single mistake...

  “Now!” A mental shout shivered through them all as Ron used a rarely accessed ability to compel them to act in unison. It was an ability that required willing participants and no one on this high risk hunt would be there if they weren’t team players and none of that mattered because...

  Sammy was charging! Darting across the ground so much faster than she had ever managed to sprint in high school and stupid Timmy was silently laughing but it was still too loud! But their steps were already churning and though silent, their prey sensed something, somehow, twisting its body enough to look their way with one of its eyes, which positioned its tail further away even if it meant it could then swing it around with that much force but THIS was the opening they trained for and they leaped in concert…

  “NOW!”

  Someone screamed and cried out.

  FUCK! Someone had tripped at the worst possible time!

  But Sammy was already leaping forward as the giant ankylosaurus shifted its gaze to look right at her! But she was already committed as time seemed to stretch and slow just the tiniest bit as it did sometimes when her heart was pounding and she felt death’s cold claws reaching for her as the creature opened its massive maw with the oddly beak-like overhang and she was deliberately leaping right for its head! Even as the air rang out with the sounds of spears plunging into their target or bouncing off the interlocking bony plates protecting so much of it’s body.

  And she was springing into it’s mouth! Why was she doing this? It’s nasty eyes pinning her and—

  Piercing Strike! Sammy mentally screamed as she lined up her target and thrust forward with every ounce of her strength and momentum, with what felt like the force of the world itself.

  For one tiny, Soul Reserve-draining heartbeat she was ONE with everything.

  Her spear. Herself. The world all around her.

  Even her prey, the tip of her razor sharp spear head plunging not into the massive snapping maw but the beady eye glaring at her before exploding in a shower of spurting gore.

  The world became a sudden cacophony of awful noise as Sammy’s spear was abruptly rammed into her armored side and she was sent hurtling through the air. But not without the weapon tearing free of its prize in a fresh geyser of blood. Even as she hurtled through the air, a dazed Sammy watched the world spin and their prey collapse.

  She heard the screams of at least one of her guildmates even as the spinning world rose up to meet her and she did her best to brace herself when—”

  Finesse Check made!

  You have managed to avoid landing on your head.

  You have successfully avoided crippling injury!

  You have taken 2 Light Wounds.

  You are suffering the effects of Stunning Blow!

  For only a moment did Sammy let herself get distracted by the odd rumble shivering through her bones as she lay prone and stunned before the voice of their party leader worked its magic once more.

  “Get up, Sammy! We need you here!”

  Sammy groaned, forcing herself to her feet, ignoring the System messages about voluntarily failed saves and Willpower checks, all her focus now on the alarm in Ron’s voice.

  “Shit!” Her eyes flared open, jolted by ice cold clarity like someone had just splashed cold water on her face. Only worse. Far worse.

  For Ron to ever show any emotion save that of calm command…

  Someone was in trouble. She raced forward.

  “Sammy, here!”

  Her legs pounded against the loamy soil, racing back the way she had come as fast as she could, filled with awe and dismay at the sight of the massive ankylosaurus they had actually taken down.

  Then she heard the screams.

  A frantic Ron caught her gaze. “Hurry! Mitch is in trouble!”

  Her heart quailed. Mitch was a new recruit. A former Javelineer who had no love for his one-time masters, it had been some work getting him as proficient with the ten foot long spears that worked so well for their hunts as he was with his pilums.

  Yet he had successfully made the transition, even figuring out how to turn his class ability with an overhand throw into an absolutely deadly underhand thrust very much like her own Piercing Strike.

  He was already a valued member of their team.

  And if the look on Ron’s face was anything to go by as the rest of the party cursed and struggled with all their might just to ease off some of the weight of the massive behemoth that was crushing a wheezing Mitch even then being suffocated by the bulk…

  “We can’t free him! His armor’s caught on the fucker’s plates!” A panicked Timmy sobbed.

  “Continue to brace!” Ron’s voice cracked like a whip, stiffening the spines of everyone bracing the beast before his anxious eyes turned to Sammy. “Can you do it?”

  Sammy swallowed, heart in throat as she approached the behemoth that was a hell of a lot bigger than she had first thought.

  Forcing herself to approach and touch the massive body.

  Still warm as blood. And she could feel the fragile soul even now being crushed to death underneath.

  Ruthlessly, she pushed aside her growing concerns and did what she knew she must.

  You are attempting to place Greater Ankylosaurus in Hunter’s Storage!

  All other stored goods has been emptied.

  Warning! Your prey is MASSIVE! Do you still wish to continue?

  You have chosen: YES!

  You are suffering EXTREME Strain!

  Saving Throw… Critical Success!

  You have saved versus rupture…

  You are attempting Rapid Transformation!

  Skill check: Success! You have SUCCESSFULLY converted 8 Tonnes of game into 5 tonnes of prepared meat, hide, oils and organs considered edible by 60% of hunter gatherer tribes!

  Storage Strain has been MINIMIZED with your sacrifice.

  Congratulations! You are now a Level 21 Hunter!

  You have successfully delivered the KILLING BLOW upon your prey! You were the primary damage dealer! Bonus Experience earned.

  You have achieved Level 36 as a Primal Hunter!

  Perception Check made!

  “Jeezus. I don’t believe it. You actually did it!” said an awed Timmy, his helmet taken off to reveal tousled blond hair as he scratched his sweaty brow, his features that of a painfully young man who had been forced to grow up way too fast as he stared at Sammy with his solemn brown eyes. As did the entire party, lurching off balance as the massive multi-ton behemoth that had been crushing their friend was suddenly gone, replaced by piles of goods Sammy hadn’t gotten around to trading or selling, but really should have cleared from her space before their hunt.

  Only Ron wasn’t gazing at her in awe, instead looking down at a groaning Mitch.

  “Focus!” Ron snapped, immediately drawing everyone’s attention.

  “Healing potion?”

  The other female in their group, an elven woman named Sylvy, solemnly shook her head.

  “Forgiveness, battle leader, but his injuries are internal. I detect multiple broken bones and bruised organs. Including the heart. Using that gnoll-brewed potion now would risk greater damage than stabilizing him and bringing him back to our guild hall as fast and as carefully as we can.”

  Ron’s lips pressed in a thin line. He quickly dipped his head. “The let’s do it. Can you keep him stable?”

  The elven woman solemnly nodded, hardly looking like a defected soldier, kitted much as the rest of them were, save for the recurved bow sheathed to her back. She solemnly handed her own spear to the man beside her and approached a wheezing Mitch. “Easy, my friend. I’m going to stabilize you until we get back home.” Green energies that even an awed Sammy could see emanated from the elf’s palms and Mitch’s wheezing breaths audibly eased.

  Timmy sighed. “I .wish I could cast magic.”

  “Did you see what Sammy just did? How many freakin’ tonnes was that dinosaur, crushing poor Mitch, and we couldn’t force it off even with all our strength? Fuck, that’s the real magic,” said the dark haired youth next to Tim.

  Sammy grimaced at that. “Yeah, and I’m feeling dizzy and sick like I gotta puke so could we please get back to the guild hall so I can clear out my inventory? Please?”

  This earned an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Sammy.”

  “You did good, Sammy. Perfect strike, and saved our butts after,” Ron solemnly commended, earning a bright blush from her and warm nods from the others, before they quickly set up their emergency stretcher and began the long trek back home, as their pseudo healer but mostly hunter did her best to keep Mitch stable.

  “You going to be okay?” Ron quietly asked, gently bracing an only mildly off balanced Sammy over some roots.

  She forced a chuckle. “Yeah… even now I feel the strain slowly pushing up Hunter ever closer to Level 22. As long as I can keep from exploding into bits myself… this is somehow helping me?”

  Ron frowned. “Empty yourself completely if you feel like you’re losing a grip… the loss doesn’t matter. What matters is your life.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “And the tonne of goodies I had to leave behind, that was completely my share,” she snorted. “But don’t worry, boss. I’ll be a good girl.”

  “Sure.” Ron’s grimace turned apologetic. “I’ll make sure you get a full tonne credited to yourself in addition to the rest of your share,” he quietly promised.

  His words earned a relieved smile from Sammy. “Damn right. And boyr could I use a drink and what the fuck was that?”

  Sammy’s daze snapped to crystalline focus when she realized that the distant rumble hadn’t faded at all.

  It had increased. Exponentially so.

  The low thrumming had become an audible rumble, quickly growing so loud that her world became an awful grinding roar when the massive fern forest before them was obliterated in an explosion of kindling and she looked up and up to see a vision out of her worst nightmares.

  “Fuck. That’s Spiky!”

  Sammy only heard the words in the party interface echo, the thunderous roar filling the air making external sound impossible. As it was, her widened eyes could barely even comprehend the true size of the absolutely massive behemoth of a triceratops before her. Soaring so high that it itself would make any decent-sized dinosaur look like a tiny toy at the feet of her baby brother, so many years ago.

  A massive head with three building-sized prongs upon the armored shell of its head tore through the gigantic ferns as effortlessly as a boy kicking at waves, and suddenly Sammy was sprinting. Sprinting back and screaming at her fellow corp mates, grabbing up Sylvy who had stumbled flat, so distracted with her healing when the boys carrying Mitch scrambled for cover, Sammy and her charge now leaping a heartbeat before a ton of soil, plants, and wood could crash into them.

  And still she was pummeled by a rain of dirt and branches and Sylvy’s panicked screams and she was running for all she was worth and it did no good, it meant NOTHING! Because the fucking boss-tier monster of this entire region had, for whatever mad reason, honed in on them.

  Warning! You have triggered the ire of Territory Boss – Spiky.

  Mandatory Quest is now in effect: Try to survive!

  “How did this happen? How did this fucking happen?” Sobbed Peter, another new corp member as they all separated and scattered, exactly as per protocol, which did absolutely nothing to stiffen Samantha’s jolt of dismay when she heard a scream she recognized all too well.

  Timmy. The silly goofball she knew was smitten with her, but all her focus was right now on advancing, leveling up, increasing her skills… and not thinking about the awful things she had suffered through, back when she had had cold steel cruelly biting into her neck. No. She could worry about love and happiness and family later. Years later. When she was so strong and skilled that no one would dare hurt her, ever again. Only now she was forced to accept, as the shaking ground and screams of her friends that were cut off with hideous silence made clear… there would always be someone stronger. More ruthless. More savage out there.

  No matter how hard she fought, no matter how desperately she ran now, choking back a panicked sob, there would be some tyrannical man or monster out there dead set on killing her. She was, and always had been, living on borrowed time.

  They all had.

  And their time had just run out, she was forced to accept when the ground began shaking so violently that she crashed to her knees, only to be sent flying. Hurtling through the air.

  Her ribs were hurting.

  She couldn’t breathe!

  What the fuck had just happened?

  She blinked in bleary surprise, gazing up at the titan triceratops that had just casually swiped her, or more accurately, the fern trees that had been right behind her, effortlessly swooping them all up and sending them flying.

  She gave a pained cry when her Perception painted so clearly the pair of guild mates that had been crushed in great big crimson splats, along with the woodland groves this giant abomination had so casually destroyed.

  For no reason! It hadn’t acted out of hunger or protecting its territory.

  But of course she knew. Of course she understood.

  “This is how almost all monsters act,” she mentally castigated herself while hurtling through the air, fighting for every breath. “The docile dinosaurs we pride ourselves on hunting are the exception. The fucking exception. That monster is the rule!”

  A tiny part of her dizzy mind wondered what she could do to survive the next handful of seconds, before she was crushed or impaled by branch or rock… but she was too dizzy to focus and her thoughts didn’t even matter because she was doomed no matter what desperate move she tried. She could feel the killing glare of that creature below, deliberately positioning itself to gore her the moment she finished falling. Hell, she could even sense its malicious glee!

  All she could do was wheeze in frustration.

  Wheeze, even as her eyes filled with desperate fire. FORCING herself to fight against her own pain to summon that which was now tied to her soul. A ten foot long spear that she would do everything in her power to at least mark that bastard’s flesh with, before he splatted her to paste with his viscous horns.

  At that moment she flashed a bitter smile, even if she was terrified of the death that was just seconds away.

  What caught her completely off guard, however, was finding herself coming to a sudden jolting stop.

  A stop that did her bruised ribs no favors. But besides a surprised wheeze…

  “You okay there, cutie? You look a bit bruised up!”

  A stunned Sammy gazed down at her armor that had been so effortlessly latched onto by… not a hand, gripping her attire so tightly… but a tiny rabbit’s paw.

  Dazed eyes peered up to meet the worried looking creature holding her up, a good three hundred yards above the ground.

  “You’re a rabbit?”

  The creature smiled. It even had the gall to wink. “Call me Bunz.”

  Sammy gazed slack-jawed at the creature currently standing with perfect ease on the air itself.

  “How the fuck are you standing on air?”

  “Speed Racer, Rank II.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  The rabbit shrugged. “Inertia, weight, gravity, terrain, relativity in general… when you think about it, they’re really just states of mind.”

  “That’s not how things actually work!”

  The bunny grinned. “It is when you got Speed Racer Rank II.”

  Sammy’s heart continued to pound, overwhelmed by adrenaline, despair, and relief. She forced herself to get a grip, to accept the reality of her situation as best she could. “Um… thank you for saving my life, hero. But that monster’s still hunting down my friends!”

  The rabbit nodded. “We know. That’s why we shifted our approach when we spotted a hot red racing toward the largest cluster of greens in this region.”

  Sammy blinked. “I’m sorry, brave rabbit, but who… what?”

  “Dominion Interface Map. If you’re not a Contender or a bigwig… don’t worry about it.”

  She blinked. “And you are a Contender… Mr. Rabbit?”

  The rabbit winked. “Yes. And its’ Mrs. Rabbit. Or just call me Bunz. Or Lilly, if you prefer. Oh goody. He got the last of your crew.”

  “Who?” The words died in Sammy’s throat as she caught sight of a shockingly beautiful young man with wavy red hair, piercing green eyes, and a devilish smirk that made it damned clear that he was trouble and yes she did very much want every part of it.

  Especially seeing as that trouble was presently racing through the air as casually as the rabbit holding her so effortlessly that was now loping up a flight of invisible stairs, with a massive disk of something… bone? Upon which Timmy, Ron, and everyone else were lying prone. Several were unconscious, like Mitch and Peter. And everyone was gazing at the new arrival with looks of stupefaction.

  The rabbit holding onto her so casually waved an ear toward the grinning youth.

  “Nice haul, Fearless Leader. We’re officially the good guys! Now, let’s take out grumpy down there, and claim ourselves a fresh juicy peach!”

  The youth grinned. “Damn right, Bunz!” He then gave them all a careful eye, winking when Sammy blushed. “So… how you doin’?”

  Sammy stared at him deadpan for long seconds before bursting out laughing. “Just fucking fine, Joey! Now if you could save our sorry asses, I’d be happy to listen to every bad actor impression you wanna send my way!”

  The boy grinned. “Awesome! It’s a date.”

  She blinked at his moxy.

  “And you wouldn’t believe just how many lines I have memorized. My name’s Ernest, by the way,” he said with a laugh before turning to gaze at Ron and the crew. His look of gentle concern touched Sammy’s heart when he caught sight of a bruised and bleeding Sylvy still trying to save a battered and very broken Mitch.

  Much to her surprise, the boy’s snarky grin turned solemn as he stepped through the air as casually as walking in the mall before gently crouching before the panicked-looking elf, the closest thing to a healer they had.

  “May I?”

  Sammy flinched, feeling as surprised as Sylvy looked as the odd weight of that request washed over them. She wasn’t sure, but his word tasted heavy with intent and meaning she could scarce puzzle out, though she was almost certain that her Soul Reserves were tingling with odd sympathy.

  A stricken Sylvy paled, gazing Ernest’s way with a look that was far from relief. More like horrified dismay.

  “Shit!” Sammy hissed in her head, very very silently even as her guts clenched with sudden fear. Because she was still 300 yards high and at the mercy of a snarky bunny that could drop her in a heartbeat, should she dare to insult her friend.

  Sylvy fell to her knees, kowtowing silently before the boy. “Your Grace, please forgive this unworthy coward! I—”

  Her words cut off when the boy shook his head. “I see no cowards here. Only healers. Now please, do I have permission to do what must be done?”

  Sylvy trembled, tears streaming down her cheeks as their dying friend coughed up blood, wheezing for breath. “Yes… please, yes! But the healing potion, I was afraid that—”

  “It’s fine. You made the right call,” Ernest quietly said before unsheathing his blade that sparkled in the light of the setting sun.

  “Your Grace, please!” Sylvy sobbed. “Spare my life!”

  Sammy’s heart pounded in sudden terror. “Oh no. Please, no!”

  But all the boy did was give the trembling Sylvy a strange look before gently caressing the palm of his hand with his shimmering sword, frowning at his empty palm.

  Sammy winced. “Wait, what? Why is Sylvy so afraid of him? She thought he was going to cut her? But he sliced his own hand… only he didn’t… is he trying to intimidate her? Fuck, we’re all in his power, as what’s the point?”

  “The poor runaway elf isn’t an issue for us,” the rabbit assured. “Not that my boy cares if some poor girl thought better than being one of the former Winter Queen’s sacrificial soldiers, so… yeah. She probably woke up with an ‘AWOL deserter’ background in her character sheet and no way to start fresh with Sylvan Alliance 2.0 with a new and far nicer queen at the helm. So no judgment from us.”

  The rabbit then turned her ears her master. “Hey Fearless Leader! You can’t draw blood that way!”

  He gazed at Bunz in disbelief. “But it’s mithril! How the fuck could I not cut myself with mithril?”

  “Because you’re now at 567, genius! And we both know it’s not a straight point to point progression! Remember, one point and a mortal’s fist isn’t leaving a bruise unless he’s a trained fighter, twenty or thirty points and you’re resisting small arms fire like super girl. A few hundred points means 12-pounder cannon balls aren’t doing shit. 300 points means 24-pounder balls normally used to take down fortresses aren’t doing more than leaving a bruise, and 400+ Physical Damage Resistance means that even high velocity artillery isn’t doing shit, at least not with your Battletime in play. And hoss, you’re now at 567! If it’s a density thing… you went from flesh to wood to copper to high grade carbon steel to tungsten carbide to some ungodly strong mithril alloy that’s now a bit harder than the mithril in your hand! And since you’re still as flexible as anything, no shattering! So… yeah. Unless you’re dealing with elite assholes and their perks… and you’re not an idiot enough to Doomslice yourself… you’re doing nothing but risking the edge of your blade.”

  Ernest blinked with odd dismay. “Shit.”

  “Your Grace, please! The boy!”

  Sylvy, despite her terror, shouted her desperation as Mitch’s eyes widened in sudden panic, forced from dazed exhaustion to agonizing wakefulness as he thrashed and clawed at his own throat.

  “Fuck!” Ernest squeezed his eyes shut, hissed a curse that left Sammy feeling sick like someone had just punched her in the gut, or the Soul Reserves… and blood started flowing from the kid’s eyes.

  Blood he gathered in his fingers before gently annointing a spasming Mitch with his own crimson drops.

  “What the hell is he doing?” Sammy shouted in dismay, surprised to feel a comforting ear pat her head.

  “Watch and learn, girl. He walks a crimson path.”

  She was surprised and chilled with the bunny’s blue eyes—crimson fire!—peered gently into her own. “A path I sense you could walk as well, Sammy Blackwell… though you chose a hunter’s path, I see.” The rabbit smiled. “Primal Hunter too. Got a bit of Blackfoot in you?”

  “Cherokee,” Sammy admitted, cheeks flushing. “And how the hell do you know any of—”

  “Heal!”

  The word and the pressure wave that followed was another blow to the metaphoric gut that only the rabbit’s gentle grip, and her being rediculously high up, kept her from stumbling. Her dismay quickly turned to awe when her eyes truly opened to what she was seeing. Sensing Mitch’s blood trickling back the way it had come. Retreating from bleeding cuts, nose, and ears. And more. So much more than superficial injuries sealing as if they had never been. The blood, like a circulating pressure wave through Mitch’s entire body that she could somehow feel now, was being forced back out of his lungs and into the circulatory system where it belonged.

  Soul Sight enhanced Perception Check Made! You sense a path you could walk!

  Her eyes widened when Ernest whispered further words.

  “Shit, I see it! How do I see it?”

  Bunz looked at her curiously even as she hopped down to the floating disk of rawhide and bone holding her friends. “What do you see?”

  Sammy swallowed her suddenly dry throat. “Mitch’s blood… or cells… or something in the blood… it’s all...getting sticky and… it’s fixing thousands of tiny tears like cement fixing a crumbling wall!”

  The rabbit nodded. “Yup! Fibrin and other clotting factors are helping to repair the micro-tears in your friend’s vasculature.”

  Sammy shivered, getting a good look at just how focused the boy’s attention was, how his eyes seemed to be darting to a thousand different points only he could see. “That does not look easy.”

  “It’s not,” Bunz agreed. “But this is the healing path we have access to, and we do the best that we can.”

  For long, tense, breathless moments the entire party anxiously watched the strange youth radiating such wild power and potency try to save their friend while the enormous triceratops below continued to roar so loud that Sammy’s ears were ringing and the ground shaking as the titanic beast leaped and crashed to the ground with such force it sent chills racing down Sammy’s spine.

  Sammy traded looks with Timmy as the rabbit gave her shoulder a final pat and hopped through the air to her companion.

  “You okay?” She asked.

  Timmy just blinked and stared at Sammy.

  “Sorry, that was a stupid question.”

  “He’s shell shocked,” Ron explained, his voice also filled with an odd degree of deferential awe, before stealing a glance at the tyrant monster below. “Shit. I think we’re in trouble.”

  Sammy gave a solemn nod. “I think you’re right. That things the size of a battleship. There’s no way we’re taking it out, and the one rule all hunters know is to never, ever, bring trouble home.”

  Ron forced a bitter chuckle. “Shit. As heavily walled and fortified as our home is, that thing would smash through it quicker than German tanks smashed through Poland.”

  Sammy smirked. “You gonna tell me you saw that shit firsthand, old man?”

  This earned a glare from the salt and pepper-haired man who wasn’t really that old, and moved and worked as sleek and efficient as any twenty year old Adonis.

  “Hell no. But it’s nice to think we’ll probably be keeping our looks and health for so many centuries that when our descendants crack jokes we really will be laughing right along and saying ‘yes, we were there from the start.’

  Sammy’s smile became strained. “Assuming this floating disk holds for more than a handful of minutes. Assuming that bastard boss-tier abomination doesn’t grind us to paste.”

  “Yup,” Ron sighed. “Assuming all that.”

  “Seal.”

  She felt another shiver of power… and wonder, when the boy, Ernest, stood up with a sigh and a satisfied smile. He turned to their healer, poor Sylvy still gazing at him like an executioner passing judgment. “I think he’s going to be okay. But we know that the best move is not to move him until his natural regeneration takes over fully and we know that an hour will set him straight, no matter what.”

  “Thank you, Your Grace!” Sylvy sobbed. “Thank you for saving this poor boy.”

  “Of course,” Ernest said with a gentle smile, before turning his gaze to encompass them all. “I have a proposal for you.”

  “And that would be?” Said none other than Ron.

  For some reason this caught Ernest completely off guard. He burst out laughing.

  “Really, Ron? This is where you end up? Who would have thought? Out of all the possibilities… shit!”

  Ron furrowed his brow. “Do I know you, kid?”

  Ernest blinked, the corner of his lip curling with bemusement. Though his eyes suddenly looked so hard and cold that it sent shiver’s down Sammy’s spine. “You know what? Maybe you don’t, Ron. And maybe I should man up and let bygones be fucking bygones, because if whatever higher power there might or might not be judging me for all the dark shit I came so close to pulling… or fuck, the dark shit I have pulled in spades...”

  His bark of laughter made Sammy flinch. “Fuck it! I got absolutely no moral ground to stand on at all, do I?”

  Sammy and the others were speechless. Breath ragged, tasting the edge of a terrifying madness just a single miscalculation from being unleashed upon them all. And with the wild light in the boy’s eyes… she wanted to whimper. Peter did whimper. No matter how entrancing this wild youth’s beauty, she was dreadfully certain that the Contender smiling so coldly at them all could obliterate them just as assuredly as the creature below.

  “Except for the fact that we’re basically glowing with the world’s karma, which would be visible to everyone, if this were a cultivation realm. We’re bad and badass as shit, Fearless Leader,” the rabbit quipped. “Now quit fucking around with Ronny boy who clearly doesn’t remember shit, and let’s wrap this up!”

  Ernest winced and rubbed his face. “You’re right, Bunz. As always.” He took a deep breath and lifted his face once more, smiling at them all with a warm twinkle in his eye that made him suddenly look the farthest thing from a wildcard who came just a bit too close to embracing the murder hobo gamer lifestyle.

  “Shit.”

  Sammy winced at Peter’s whisper, but agreed completely.

  And Ernest had the gall to wink. “I know, right? Anyway, here is my proposal. Assuming I have it within me to take care of Spiky down there… assuming I have what it takes to claim this little patch of heaven, neither you all nor your corp will even think of contesting my claim.”

  The air filled with a sudden tense silence, save for the bellowing roars below.

  “Are you serious, kid?” Ron asked. “You think you can take that fucker out? Saving our lives is one thing, and we owe you, kid. Big time. That’s not gonna change no matter how much of an arrogant shithead you pretend to be. But if you’re determined to kill yourself… could you at least make sure your magic disk doesn’t give out and send us crashing down right on top of that fucker?”

  Ernest’s smile didn’t either. “Do I have your word, then?”

  Ron snorted, staring at all the battered members of their corp on the floating disk so high in the air. “The Silver Griffins formally secede all claims to this territory, even though our livelihoods depend on what we hunt here. We’re not stupid. We’re not going to challenge you for shit. We can only hope that you won’t leave us high and dry.”

  Ernest’s smile hardened. “I make no deals. This is conquest, pure and simple. I can only say that a wise conqueror allows his reputation, both honorable and savage, to precede him. Now, do I have your word or not?”

  Ron blanched, nostrils flaring. Then his eyes widened in what might have been horror. “What’s your full name, boy? Can I have that, at least?”

  “Sure! It’s Ernest Edgelord Slaughter.”

  Sammy stiffened. Timmy and Peter exchanged wide-eyed looks as Sylvy trembled, still kowtowing before him.

  Ron stared at the smirking boy for long seconds before cursing under his breath. “You’re him.”

  Ernest chuckled unapologetically. “Yeah. I guess I am at that.”

  A pugnacious look crossed Ron’s features. “You gonna claim New York next?”

  “Ron, stop it!” Sammy hissed, heart lurching with growing dread. “He saved our lives, and we’re floating on his fucking necro disk of leather and bones!!”

  Ernest winked, lips curving in an eerie, awful grin. “You know what Ron? Yeah. As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

  Ernest’s smile then widened. Stretched so wide that Sammy felt an awful sense that something strange was happening, that he was showing way too many teeth inside those perfectly proportioned lips and she was going to tumble over and fall right in when—

  She felt a paw gently steady her shoulder. “Relax, sweety. He’s just negotiating!”

  Ron paled as did everyone else, but didn’t whimper at all, somehow finding it in himself to snort and cross his arms, as if not at all impressed by that terrible, dreadful, inhuman smile.

  “You know the gnoll contingent and all the human power brokers are now led by Lord Song, I trust? He’s no slouch, radiating almost as much killing intent as you, and his inner circle’s made of people you absolutely do NOT want to mess with. Not only that, we have cannons. A whole shit load of cannons, along with a hundreds of thousands of hardworking citizens who will fight to keep what’s theirs and thousands of orc levies invited here by Lord Song himself in preparation for the push to take Boston. You sure you want to go to war with a city with all that?”

  Ernest barked with laughter, eyes flashing with wild glee. “Jeezus, Ron. Stop teasing me! I said I’d do it already. No need to oversell it!”

  Ron paled. “You’re serious. You actually think you…” The man stumbled back when Ernest, their supposed hero, took off the mask.

  The wild-eyed fury.

  Eyes blazing with fire so hot it froze Sammy to the quick.

  It was all she could do not to scream… and it wouldn’t have mattered, all her precious air sucked by the void of oblivion as she found herself falling into that terrifying darkness and—

  “Fine. You can have it! The territory is yours!” Ron desperately cried.

  Sammy took a shuddering breath, wondering why the hell she had gotten so dizzy, why Timmy had fainted, Peter was screaming…”

  “What the fuck just happened?”

  Her rhetorical question was answered with a gentle pat on her head. “No need to stress, sweety. Fearless Leader was just showing a bit of his killing aura? Presence? Potency? Whatever you want to call it.”

  Sammy blinked, forcing a shuddering chuckle. “Hardly. I can sense his killing aura coming off him in waves, even with his too fucking cute smile.”

  The rabbit sighed sadly. “I know.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Then what do you…” She blinked, suddenly getting it. “Oh. That’s him holding back? Well, he’s sure not fooling anyone.”

  For some reason this earned a sad smile. “He fooled you plenty. You didn’t run away screaming, at risk of toppling off this disk, the instant you sensed his presence. Not until a few seconds ago, anyway.”

  Timmy groaned, opening his eyes, for some reason fastening onto her face before any other. “Sammy? What the fuck’s…” he shuddered when he caught sight of Ernest, still grinning just a bit too wide, though not enough to not look shockingly handsome while simultaneously utterly terrifying.

  “Like the devil himself,” she whispered.

  “Now that’s entirely unfair!” The rabbit huffed, looking strangely disappointed in her. “He’s the reason why you’re not dealing with that right now!”

  Sammy froze at those words. “Are you serious?”

  The rabbit scowled, which at any other place and time, as a zoologist, Sammy would know was technically impossible. But considering all that had gone on, considering the massive creature which shouldn’t be able to support its own weight outside the sea tearing up the earth below them… she was more than willing to let a few too-human facial expressions go.

  “Look. It doesn’t matter, right?” The rabbit struck what she probably thought was a heroic prose. “What matters is that we’re the good guys!”

  Sammy blinked. “Wait, didn’t your master just say he was going to take over New York?”

  Timmy burst out laughing. “You’re the good guys? Seriously?”

  The rabbit gave an airy wave. “Someone’s got to do it, so it might as well be us!”

  “Be the good guys or take over New York?” Sammy asked, strangely curious.

  The rabbit looked strangely desperate. “Okay, Fearless Leader! Time to show them our stuff!”

  Ernest grinned. “Sounds good, Bunz.” An eye blink later and he held a spear in his hands.

  “Where the fuck did that come from?” whispered an awed Timmy.

  Sammy opened her mouth but no words came out. Because she had felt it. The crimson connection her terrifying hero had to her weapon. Much like the one that had come so naturally to herself. Yet where hers was a ten foot long shaft tipped with razor sharp spring steel she had somehow enhanced with her blood and tears and a promise to herself to always remain sharp and strong and focused, his was a twenty five foot long pole with a bronze sleeve in the center and a tip made out of metal glowing with so many exotic sigils and runes that it was near blinding in its brilliance. And how odd that no one flinched away from its brilliant shine, save her.

  “Can you see them?”

  She froze with a gasp to see those brilliant green eyes now peering so intently into her own.

  Her cheeks flushed, giving the tiniest of nods. She didn’t dare deny it.

  For some reason this made him smile. “Awesome. I hope we can keep in touch. I have some friends who you might find very interesting, should you ever find yourself in Freetown.”

  Then, of all things, he placed a vellum card into her trembling fingers before winking once and stepping off the platform.

  “Fuck!” Peter hissed, hurrying over to peer over the lip of the floating disk, same as Sammy now was, catching sight of a winking Ernest before he seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye.

  Only to reappear right in front of the roaring triceratops.

  Laughing like a madman as he weaved past massive multi-story horns that could pulpify him in a heartbeat.

  In a blur so fast she didn’t even see the motion, the boy plunged his spear into the impossibly thick hide of that battleship-sized beast. Trying to pierce hide that not even the orc’s 24-pounder long guns could hope to pierce.

  “Shit. He did it. Look, his spear punched through!”

  “Impossible! Ron snapped. “It’s hide is too damned thick. Nothing’s getting...well I’ll fucking be.”

  Sammy could only watch in awe when her 45 Perception spotted tiny flecks of crimson that could only be registering if the boy’s spear had unleashed a true gusher. And sure enough, one spurting fountain became a dozen, then countless more as a laughing, she was SURE he was laughing, Ernest spun around the roaring giant, darting like a mosquito all about his charging, snorting, furious prey even as he continued to sting Spiky with his spear.

  Sting him as roars turned to furious bellows, the horns suddenly glowing with furious killing intent.

  Yet Ernest continued to dodge and strike as a slingle swipe of Spiky’s massive head projected a wave of force sufficient to obliterate the nearby forest, the ground erupting in a titanic explosion of stone that would have surely smashed any wall of New York City, even if the giant behemoth couldn’t tear its way through.

  “Ernest, fuck! If he get’s killed…” Sammy swallowed her words in surprise when the bunny, still with them, grinned.

  “No chance in hell of that, sweetheart! Now sit back, relax, and enjoy the show!”

  And a show it was, an awed Sammy realized, somehow seeing clearer than ever just how gracefully Ernest weaved about and struck his prey as her Level 31 attribute points placed themselves of their own accord, her vision now just a bit sharper, her ability to speed up her perceptions and slow down her sense of time growing ever more acute… seeing how gracefully the boy below her pivoted and struck, weaving as if he was always standing upright, in whatever direction he chose, running a massive ring around his prey that went across both belly and back, and the results of his furious blur of movement were visible for all to see as his deadly spear plunged what must have been hundreds of times into his prey.

  Like a thousand tiny pinpricks or harpoons… leaving a trail of deepest crimson behind.

  “Shit, look at the ferns below!”

  “They’re all crushed to pulp?”

  “No, Peter. They’re all turning red!”

  It was true. But of course with a creature that massive… even a thousand pinpricks seemed to be hardly any bother at all.

  Sammy couldn’t deny the dismay she felt when Ernest returned, both his spear and himself utterly soaked in crimson gore.

  “Shit, you couldn’t do it,” Peter noted.

  “Does this mean you won’t take over New York?” Timmy quietly asked.

  Yet for some reason, the rabbit looked excited, doing a back flip.

  “You did it, fearless leader!”

  Ernest’s eyes were wide with wonder. Sammy blinked, surprised to realize that she recognized that awed look. “You just had a breakthrough.”

  Ernest sighed and shook his head. “So close, Bunz. I’m so close to one, that I can taste it! But I think I know how I can end this with maximum payoff for us both.”

  “Ooh, details, details, details, Fearless Leader!”

  Stealing a quick glance at Sammy’s friends in their various states of shock, awe, and dismay, the youth just winked. “I have a better idea than a boring description. How about a demonstration for our new friends?”

  The bunny blinked, then squealed with enthusiasm, doing another back-flip on Peter’s head.

  “Oh yes! That’s Perfect! Show us, show us, show us!”

  Ernest gave his long-eared companion a chuckle before winking right at Sammy before leaping off the side of the platform again.

  Sammy’s heart was in her throat as she gazed down at the boy charging through the air as if at a downward slope, before her eyes widened as he seemed to streak through the air than disappear. Her ears were ringing with a massive crack and boom… or what she thought should have been a crack and boom but was only defining silence before the air roared with an explosion of a different sort.

  The massive triceratops, radiating what seemed almost cosmic fury as it stomped and smashed the ground, utterly unfazed by the bloody pinpricks it had suffered abruptly lurched, voice cutting off in a startled bullhorn of deafening noise as the entire battleship’s worth of bulk stiffened, one eye looking dazed and confused as the other erupted in the mother of all explosions.

  Spiky then proceeded to topple over in what almost seemed slow motion as gravity gently gripped the massive creature that crashed to the ground in a titanic crash of shattered trees and soil plooming into the air as a great big cloud of dust and debris.

  All of them gazed down at the sight in stunned silence.

  “What the fuck just happened?”

  Sammy slowly turned to regard Timmy. She opened her mouth, then closed it, having no words.

  That wild-eyed too handsome Contender had just taken out an absolute city-destroying titan with a single thrust of his spear.