“Wake up, Eric. Something unexpected happened. And watch your Strength!”

  Eric groaned when his alarm clock blared, slamming the snooze button when the air rang with the crack of hypersonic shrapnel.

  “Wait, what the fuck? Sniper!”

  Eric bolted awake, only to feel his Comfort Cloud luxury mattress collapse under him as he opened his eyes and took in the high-rise bedroom he had called his own for most of his teenage years… looking exactly like he remembered. Save for the ruins of his desk stand where his alarm clock had been reduced to splinters, a fair number of said splinters having pierced the floor like a shotgun blast.

  “Seriously, darling?” A sultry laugh washed over him, filled with sensual promise that sent shivers of delight and confusion racing down his spine. He rubbed his still groggy eyes upon his collapsed but still exquisitely comfortable bed to see none other than Natasha, queen of New York’s night realm, smiling impishly back at him with soft teasing lips and petite little fangs.

  His cheeks flushed at the measuring glance she gave him, before licking her lips. “My, how you’ve grown, my absolute darling boy. A juicy steak I can’t wait to devour.”

  Eric swallowed. “There are so many questions I want to ask right now, like how the heck did I get here, how did you get here, and what does it mean that the lights are on, my computer’s running, I hear the radio and my alarm clock actually rang before I broke it?”

  Natasha chuckled throatily. “Indeed.”

  Eric swallowed. “But there’s something else we need to discuss first.”

  She quirked at teasing smile his way. “And what would that… oh my. Gently, darling! Your wonderfully restored complex, even if steel reinforced, is still quite… oh my, you have increased your key attributes!”

  Natasha tried to say something else then, but her lips were suddenly busy kissing his own as they strove to see just how much they could get away with in a building rated for mortals.

  “Eric, darling, I think the floor just…” Her words cut off in a breathless gasp as Eric took a step only he could see, now standing on what to anyone else was air, but to him, was perfectly stable ground… no matter his strength.

  His lips matched her own in a wicked grin. “I’ll let you be on top. But you have to earn it.”

  Her ruby red irises blazed the same hue as her flushing cheeks as her dress fell away in strips of silk, revealing treasures he ached to savor.

  She stroked his lips with a single teasing finger. “Only if you can master me, just as you did before, my beautiful, beautiful—Eric!”

  Throaty laughter became so much more as he showed her just how monstrously strong he had become. But not before teasing her with every last point of Finesse, and Willpower, that he had earned.

  It was a grueling match, but one that left them both feeling like winners.

  The best kind.

  “Are you happy, Eric?”

  He blinked himself awake, smiling like a goofy idiot with the beautiful angelic thousand year old succubus gazing at him so gently as she rested her head upon his chest.

  He gently stroked her soft luscious curls, happy that Speed Racer’s hidden boon meant he didn’t have to worry about the catastrophic destruction of his mother’s condo with Dreadnought-destroying stats.

  Because what beat a bed of soft, cushy, indestructible air?

  “Very much so.”

  “I’m glad.” She flashed him an oddly apologetic smile. “We came by to thank you. And maybe… swear fealty to you?” She chuckled self-consciously. “But when I slipped into your room, thanks to my son-in-law’s skills, it was clear that not all was as it seemed.”

  Eric nodded. “You got that right. If I’m sleeping in my totally undestroyed condo, then that means…” Heart in throat, he dared to role up the blinds, bracing himself for the devastation and ruin he expected… only to be met by the beautiful Manhattan skyline he had known and loved all his life.

  Buildings majestic and tall, showcasing gothic, brutalist, and art deco marvels, along with countless other styles stantding tall in all their majestic glory. A stately empire of finance, culture, and industry that had blossomed through the birth pangs of the nation he loved so fiercely, even after all it had suffered in a tumultuous pair of years.

  “It’s restored.”

  Eric choked back a sob, gazing at the glory of the rising sun. “All of it. The entire city. Restored!”

  He then gazed below, awed to find the streets very much filled with living, breathing beings, even if very few cars. And those that were running all seemed to be levimobiles, and far less than there once had been.

  “Awesome. At least congestion won’t be… shit, how many bikes are out there now?”

  That’s when he heard it, a sound that had once so irritated her mother before the entire building had been sound-proofed, but with his absurd Perception he heard the rumble so clearly.

  “The trains. They’re up and running!”

  “Yes, a true miracle worthy of the mightiest of Contenders,” declared his lover, fully clothed and looking elegant and demure in the blink of an eye. Her hair was no longer mussed, cheeks no longer flushed with sweetest bliss. As if they hadn’t just spent the last hour…

  Now it was Eric who was blinking in dismay as Natasha’s words finally slipped past his racing thoughts.

  “Wait. You said ‘we’ and ‘son in law.’ Eric swallowed. “Does that mean that you’re um…”

  “That I came with with guests?” She flashed a wicked grin. “Indeed. Friends and family I cherish with all my heart. Come. Let’s greet them, shall we? My children are anxious to pay their respects to the Prince of Arcadia who it seems is not New York’s lord?”

  Eric shook his head. “Strictly Free Agent.” He then winked at her pert frown. “My sister’s the one you’ll want to pay your respects to. And don’t worry. I’ve no doubt that she’ll be perfectly happy to have you rule New York’s night realm, just as you have up to now.”

  And just to make sure he wasn’t stepping on any toes or otherwise causing headaches for his sister, he sent her a quick hopeful System message to that effect.

  Even if there were a dozen other things he was desperate to discuss with her... all that could wait, at least for a little while. Especially if Elonia was now having to juggle the administration and care of… what… eight million or more displaced people who had absolutely no idea just how much the world had changed… or did they?

  And how were they going to feed all those people that hadn’t been pulled free of slumber in a villages perched within hydroponic tree groves or awoke as the proud owners of Sylvan farms already bursting with ready-to-harvest crops?

  He winced, shaking his head, now beyond grateful that he had always had a thing for trains. They would no doubt prove as useful and vital as he had hoped they would, even if far sooner than he had originally planned.

  Natasha’s eyes widened, pulling him out of his thoughts. “So, I would swear fealty to Elonia Silver as my queen? Wait, Eric, are you saying that you surrendered all of New York city to your sister?”

  “The entire state, actually.”

  Natasha blinked. “Why on earth?” She then bit her lip, demurely lowering her head. “Forgive me, that was unworthy. Noble, honorable, and beautiful as you are, why wouldn’t you hold yourself to a storybook’s ideals and by some miracle, actually pull it off?”

  Eric chuckled, wrapping the powerful Silver-tier succubus in his arms, whispering in her ear. “You like a lover who isn’t as fragile as glass, right?”

  She shuddered in his embrace, biting his lip with her own, eyes twinkling with freshly kindled hunger. “More than you can imagine, my sweet elven prince.”

  Eric turned her bite into a passionate kiss, leaving her breathless. “I’m barely twenty. Not even Bronze, and Elonia says I’m as strong as a Rank 27 Silver. How the fuck do you think I got so strong?”

  Her eyes widened.

  Eric’s cheeks blazed, realizing that even keeping secret the key details that could imperil him, he had just revealed WAY too much.

  And the flinch in her eyes made it clear she realized that as well. “Eric, please… Eric!”

  Thinking fast, he did the only thing he could think of.

  Savor her so thoroughly, so utterly, that she could do nothing but tremble in his arms as the building rocked with her cries while sacrificing only the tiniest bit of his potential… a hundred experience points... and no more.

  When Eric came back to himself, he was surprised to see the tears in her eyes.

  “Thank you, Eric.”

  He swallowed, sensing so much in her soulful amber gaze.

  Thanking him for not rejecting or shunning her. Thanking him for giving her carefree rapture where she need not fear damaging those she loved.

  Thanking him for sparing her life.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  Most importantly, her amber gaze made it clear that some things would never be spoken of aloud.

  He flashed a cheeky grin, daring to trust.

  Praying he wouldn’t find a host of psychotic Deep Silvers soon hunting for his head.

  “Thank you, beautiful, for rocking my world. Again.”

  Her smile brightened the whole room as she chuckled throatily. “Go freshen up, hero. I’ll let Alice and Morlekai know that their champion just woke up.”

  Eric blinked, before wincing. “Oh. Wow. Were they just patiently waiting while…”

  She snorted at that. “You have an impressive top floor condominium, Eric. Plenty of spare bedrooms, and I suspect my daughter and her chosen were hard at work in their own way.”

  Eric chuckled. “Just like old times.”

  Her smile grew fond. “That’s right. You first met them in Junk Town, with that deplorable Mister Stibbs!”

  Eric smirked. “Yeah, he was a piece of work. Though whether we ever have to worry about him again…”

  She quirked a delicately tapered brow.

  “I mean… well, at least one version of him won’t be a problem any more.”

  Her look was knowing. “Enigma’s Mayor.”

  “Quite.”

  She squeezed his hand one final time before heading for the door. “Go freshen up, beautiful. And put some clothes on!” Her smile turned wicked. “Or I’ll never be leaving this room.”

  A dazed Eric shook his head, wondering how he could simultaneously feel so lucky and happy and like the world’s biggest big-mouthed idiot. But none of that stopped him from enjoying a hot soothing shower without damaging a single thing in the bathroom.

  Even if he found, much to his dismay, that not a single item of clothing he had owned at seventeen fit him now.

  His finest silken shirts, bursting at the seams whenever he so much as flexed.

  He frowned at his reflection.

  He was no monstrous, hulking giant.

  His shoulders were wide, arms muscular and well defined, putting him firmly in the sleekly handsome category, because he was definitely short a few juicy steak dinners he was craving like no one’s business after his body had tasted mortality again in Enigma. Yet one thing that was undeniable was that he was no hulking seven foot steroid-enhanced monstrosity.

  His physique had, supposedly, hit the absolute maximum that his personal biology allowed for without the use of massive amounts of testosterone. What was, for him, Strength 20.

  Every point beyond that was an infusion of Potency, Spiritual energy, and the System’s enhancements as well, he was sure. In addition to his own growing Dominion over his own body and mind.

  Yet it seemed that even the physical build of a non-enhanced Strength 20 was too much for the seams of the bespoke silk shirts that his mother had happily indulged in him purchasing, when he had finally shown an interest in his own appearance.

  He smirked at his photo-shopped, airbrushed, and perfectly framed features that was now just his normal appearance.

  “Looks like its soul-bound gambeson time. Same as always.”

  And he had to admit that, far from being gruesome, the form-fitting quilted crimson under-armor, the low tech version of the battle-mech mercenaries’ skin suits, actually looked pretty good on his muscular frame, even if it was saturated with his own enhanced blood.

  “My man Eric. Looking good as always, boy scout!” Declared a grinning Drake seated at the mahogany dining room table in the middle of what looked like a rather involved game of monopoly, looking sharp and dapper as always in a charcoal grey custom-tailored suit with clip-on tie firmly in place.

  Grinning in agreement and raising a beer in salute was none other than a similarly dressed Louie seated beside Alice, who was looking absolutely ravishing with her flawless features complimented by ruby red lips, rosy cheeks and glittering mascara, her sensual physique complimented by a sleek, formfitting gown that was just a single clever knot and twist away from being a cocktail dress.

  Across from the trio, with the largest pile of cash and property Eric was bemused to see, was a sleek looking Morlekai, wearing a crimson suit of his own that gave him the air of both a made man, a young don, and a prince. All of which, in its own way, was true.

  “Eric, buddy! Good to see you back on your feet! We were worried there, for a bit, after seeing the skyline erupt in some kinda fireworks!” Louie commended. “Seeing you tackle Song singlehandedly? Wow! That was some battle!” He rubbed his temple. “Though I’m not sure if I was actually seeing it, or dreaming it. But I gotta tell you, kid, it is good to be back in the New York we know and love. No matter how much it’s changed.”

  “Eric, thank god, you’re okay!” Alice gushed, flowing effortlessly from a bemused Louie’s side to wrap her arms around Eric, squeezing him tightly, graced with her intoxicating scent of perfume, sweet innocence, and smoky desire.

  Sultry eyes gazed intently into his own, her breath smelling of rose petals and menthol teasing his nostrils. “Mother hasn’t vamped you too badly, has she?” Her cheeks blushed prettily as she nonetheless took a careful look at his neck. “I know she’s very playful, extremely passionate, and very strong. And she promised to behave herself. But if you think I’m bad…” Her eyes widened in surprise. “Eric, there isn’t a single mark on you! But the look on Mother’s face…”

  Her cheeks flushed prettily as she pinched his cheeks. “I know damn well you two had a very good time.”

  Eric winked, falling back on a favorite line. “It’s good to see you too, Alice. Good to see you all! And you should know that a gentleman never tells.”

  This earned a snort. “Keep your secrets, handsome.” She bit her lip, giving a nod of approval. “And you’ve never looked stronger, more virile, more delicious.” She sighed melodramatically, turning back to a smirking Louie. “It seems that Mother’s claimed our treasure here. I guess I’ll have to settle for love, as always.”

  “Sure, sweetheart, tease poor boy scout,” Louie said with a snort. “In the meantime, how about a fresh game of monopoly?”

  This earned a soft chuckle from Morlekai. “That couldn’t possibly be because you’re down to your last dollar, old friend?”

  Louie snorted, Eric bemused to note that he really was down to one dollar. “I got this game in the bag, Morlekai. You know that. It’s my long term strategy!”

  “Waiting for Eric to recover from getting his socks rocked by the queen of the Night Realm and getting a do-over?” Drake, also with an impressive hoard of properties and cash, teased.

  Louie shrugged. “Hey, it’s not my fault! It’s hard to invest when my girl’s got expensive tastes.”

  “Sure, Louie,” Morlekai said with an oddly indulgent smile, before his warm bonhomie turned to solemn formality as he gracefully rose from his chair and strode to Alice’s side, who herself had taken two steps back. Now brother and sister, two of his closest friends, were staring far too intently and formally at Eric for his tastes, before the flowed into matching curtsy and bow.

  The gestures weren’t the rough gestures of everyday folk paying courtesy… or that of made men. They were the exquisitely precise and controlled movements of royalty. Or in this case, the scions of a hidden throne who knew damn well their place, purpose, and power… and their genuflection was that of prince and princess showing deference and gratitude, perhaps even reverence. Their gazes solemn with the promise of life-long friendship and loyalty.

  Eric, humbled by the gesture, immediately bade his friends to rise. “Come on, guys. No need for that. You know I got your back, just like you have mine. It’s what friends are for.”

  Eric flushed at the haunted looks the pair gave them. Seeing the pain in their eyes. Horrified to realize that, on some level, they recalled being those desperate, savage beings. Struggling to hold onto the memory of their shapes, forms, and psyches… their souls screaming just to survive. To be restored and whole. Fighting against the hideous howls of oblivion and the most gruesome and degrading of ends… to be reduced to a ravenous, formless creature of pain and hunger before fading with a final despairing scream to nothing at all.

  Alice began to tremble, crystalline tears flowing down her cheeks. “We were so close, Eric. So close to losing everything!”

  “But you’re better now,” Eric quickly soothed, gently squeezing her hand. “Now looking as strong and virile as ever.”

  “And we owe it all to you,” Morlekai said, a fierce rasp to his voice, his beautiful ruby-red irises glittering with reverence and fiercest regard. He abruptly slammed fist to chest, as did his sister.

  “If you ever need us, battle brother, we are yours.”

  The pair then bowed their heads in unison as Drake and Louie gazed on with odd solemnity from the gaming table.

  Eric swallowed, trusting his instincts as he gently touched both their shoulders with the flat of his instantly summoned mithril blade.

  “Rise, my friends. Today we savor the day united as one.” he said, the pair gracefully rising to their feet once more.

  Eric then winked, sword vanishing back in his ES space.

  “Now let’s celebrate New York’s rebirth! I think two delicious boons went into play that I don’t even remember bequeathing. But I can feel the sweetness in the air, so who’s up for grub? I’m practically starving!”

  Drake immediately chuckled. “That’s my boy scout! We got the perfect spot already picked out. You’ll love it. I guarantee it! Come on. Let’s get you in some proper threads before we head out!”

  Eric soon found himself back in his bedroom, which by some splash of magic was fully restored as if he and Natasha hadn’t… he flushed at the knowing look Drake was giving him as he straightened the lapels of Eric’s charcoal gray single-breasted suit, near identical to Drake and Louie’s own.

  “Looking sharp, Eric. And don’t worry about the Countess. You know how it is when you’re juggling a dozen responsibilities and she has a whole kingdom to run. Night-side and Top-side, ha! All the more so, since it’s gotten so much bigger with the Big Apple’s full restoration. And Night-side’s leveled up as well!”

  Drake gave a rueful chuckle. “To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure how all that happened, but that’s not really my field. You know I’m more of a hands-on kinda guy. But I know the countess and Grim have some things to wrap up before we head back to Freetown on one of those sweet-looking steam locomotives. Modeled after the Flying Scotsman, its made of dwarven alloys and the dwarves claim it will effortlessly reach the 100 miles per hour limit of the original built in 1922. Just as importantly, the magical train tracks now crisscrossing all of New York, if Natasha and Grim’s intel is accurate, are all standard gauge! So… yeah. That makes things simpler for everyone wanting to start their own train companies, I guess.”

  Eric smirked, feeling a certain hungry flame warm up in his belly that was definitely the capitalism part of the compassionate capitalism he’d use to revitalize the country he loved.

  “That’s fine. So long as everyone knows that a certain boy scout’s going to be the silent majority shareholder of any locomotive company forming up on this continent, or they can make their own damn tracks.” He then affected a sad countenance. “What’s that? Princess Elonia doesn’t want you building your shit-quality tracks in her duchy? Damn shame.”

  Drake chuckled at that. “That’s how you do it, buddy! Anyway, we’re skipping the first hundred years of steam engines and starting with the best! Because why not?”

  Eric grinned. “The important thing is that it still has that wonderful 19th century industrial era feel that work so well for a steamworks and magica game run!”

  His friend nodded approvingly. “You always were a man of refined taste, Eric. One of the better old school RPGs...and how strange it is to think that so much of what we once considered little more than distractions…”

  “Served as the blueprint for the post apocalypse. Believe me, I know.”

  Eric gave himself a final admiring glance in the mirror. “Think I can do a dachi with this?”

  Drake snorted. “Going full Jon Wik, I see. Hell, why not? It has the sleeves and vents for it, and you’ll note that we didn’t stint on the kevlar weave and durasteel plates!”

  Eric grinned, deciding not to mention that his Physical Resistance was leagues beyond even the best quality steel. Not to mention tungsten carbide, battleship plating, mithril alloys, even Imperium starship battle armor.

  Leagues beyond.

  At this point, he suspected he could tear through it all like Super Punch man.

  Without taking a single fucking scratch.

  But even he could benefit from a sharp looking suit.

  “Love it,” Eric declared, and meant it. “Even the clip-on.”

  “Always clip-on,” Drake solemnly declared. “So no one can choke you with your own tie or pull you down for a knee right to the kisser. Because even with Strength nearing the triple digits, a blow like that will hurt! But you know that at least as well as I. Right, boy scout?”

  Eric winked, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

  “I think we’re set, Drake. I don’t know about you, but I’m absolutely famished.”