Eric soon found himself savoring the surreal experience of walking down Park Avenue and falling in love all over again with the soaring buildings and grand architecture he had loved all his life, feeling tears in his eyes as they all passed a magnificent Grand Central Station, and he just knew that the inviting whistle he heard was none other than a Dwarven-forged flying Scotsman getting ready, according to Morlekai, to send another thousand plus New Yorkers off who were eager to start lives full of adventure and wonder in Ashland.

  But what was most striking of all, to Eric, was the people. How normal everyone looked, wearing t shirts and blue jeans, dresses and business suits, and just looking like the New Yorkers he had been around all his life.

  As if the apocalypse had never happened.

  Even if there were no cell phones in evidence and the once dense traffic had been replaced with bicycles… the people were the same as always.

  “Hey, get a load of the made men get-ups!” Snorted a pair of teens in leather jackets to their group of friends.

  Eric blinked, feeling such an odd sense of deja vu as he gazed at the smirking countenance and anxious eyes of kids just a few years younger than himself.

  Trying to look tough, or just feel on top of a world gone crazy. Their haunted eyes were those of someone who had woken up from the darkest of dreams… or perhaps had only dreamed themselves into existence, just hours to go. No matter how well they recalled the seventeen or so years they hadn’t quite lived.

  Yet clearly had.

  Eric smiled, feeling nothing but tender concern. “Been quite a wild weekend, hasn’t it? Wake up, and the whole world’s changed.”

  “Damn right,” said one of the girls, shivering in her leather jacket, though not from the cold.

  “My phone won’t work no matter what I try! All the TV gives us is this looped bullshit that we’re now part of a duchy?” Said her worried looking friend.

  “Who cares? Schools out, forever!” One of the boys shouted as anxious looking passersby gave them all a quick glance before hurrying on our way.

  “Well fuck it, this is just like the lockdowns, but with no lockdown!” One declared with a laugh, earning a glare from one of the other.

  “Yeah, but if schools and work is closed forever… we’re fucked. How do we get a job? How do our parents make money? How do we eat?”

  Eric winced, no matter that the kids were now talking amongst themselves, no longer paying any mind to the suited passersby that were just a footnote in their own increasingly uncertain lives.

  He cleared his throat. “The looped program on your TVs… did they mention anything about Ashland?”

  His words earned a scowl from the closest kid. “Who the fuck are you again?”

  Eric forced a smile. “The one whose suit you clearly admire. Seriously, though. If you have questions…”

  The kid snorted. “What, you think you got it all figured out?”

  “Wait, Darren!” The worried-looking girl was now blinking, gazing at Eric with genuine surprise. Maybe even awe. “Don’t you recognize him?”

  Darren scowled. “What are you getting at, Liz?”

  Liz rolled her eyes. “It was on the TV, dipwad. New York’s Elonia Silver’s kingdom… or duchy. Whatever. You know Elonia Silver? Famous teen actress? Starred in a dozen… what the fuck am I saying? You got her posters on your wall!”

  Darren had the grace to blush. “Sure, so?”

  “So, are you blind? Look at him!”

  Darren and the other teenager’s scowls turned to looks of bemusement, even chuckles.

  “No fucking way Eric Silver’s actually here and not in a castle or the White House or something… chatting us up in some fucking Jon Wik suit.”

  Eric winked. “Well, to be fair… it is a pretty badass suit.”

  “And that katana on your hip…”

  “Dachi, actually.”

  “Is it real?”

  Eric flashed a toothy grin. “Real as the bastard Contender I cut in half with it, less than a day ago.”

  This earned a laugh. “Sure. Anyway are you really… shit, you are him, aren’t you? You look just like you do on the magazine covers, only buffer. And I thought it was all touched up!” Darren’s words, for better or worse, were loud enough to bring more than a few casually wandering people to glance their way, too many pairs of eyes suddenly widening in recognition.

  “Eric Silver! He’s here? Why? Does he know what happened to the sky?”

  “His sister’s in charge? What the hell’s going on here? Someone better have some answers!”

  Eric cleared his throat. “Believe it or not, I woke up out of the blue wondering what was going on, just like you! But I do know one thing…” He paused for dramatic effect, catching as many stares as he could. “It’s a brave new world. A world where a good portion of us can actually level up! As you might have heard, the trains departing from Grand Central are all going straight to upstate New York and dropping passengers eager to make the most of their new lives at a place called Ashland where you’ll catch sight of a grand pyramid of high tech chrome and glass just outside the most picturesque little town you’ll find anywhere outside old Europe or New Arcadia!”

  He flashed his brightest smile. “So please consider this Queen Elonia’s personal invitation to stop by and see if you have what it takes to make all your dreams come true! Because if you’re one of the lucky ones, you can enter one of the pods and claim a class that lets you level up into a powerful warrior or a spell slinging badass, just like a hero in the movies!”

  “Is he serious?”

  “Shit. He must be. We know something happened, and that boy is radiating a serious glow!”

  “Steroids, I hear.”

  “Who cares! If there’s a train going upstate where they might actually have food and jobs, not just everyone staring about in fucking confusion… I’m in.”

  “John, Alice, I forbid it! I’m not risking your lives in some game come to life!”

  Eric, ears exquisitely attuned to comments both eager and hesitant, couldn’t help grinning at the bright-eyed gazes and looks of breathless anticipation from any number of the younger onlookers. The older individuals with a bit more life experience looked more worried than excited, however.

  “But hey, if daring the wealthy tier delves full of choice game to hunt, ripe fruit bursting with magical potential to pluck and valuable pearls and amber to claim from overflowing rivers isn’t your thing… you might also be applicable for a profession that has nothing to do with fighting and everything to do with becoming a modern day DaVinci or Bach, or Michelangelo! Who knows? The ascension facility might be the golden key that unlocks the greatness in all of you!” He traded smiles with any number of intrigued looking white-collar workers. “Think of it. How many of you spent four or six years chasing advanced degrees and success? So why not see if a single train ride and ‘ascension test’ opens the doors to you becoming the professional of your former employer’s dreams. One who might earn more money in a month than you would have for years, grinding away in a cubicle!

  “So why not see if you have what it takes to be a master performer, artist, inventor, crafter, baker, farmer, or even a highly sought-after administrator that can give a production boost to an entire village or town! So really, it benefits everyone to give it a shot… because who doesn’t want to live forever?”

  His final words earned plenty of widened eyebrows.

  “It wasn’t an elaborate prank?”

  “We could live forever?”

  “Mom, I want to level-up and be stronger than Toby!”

  “You can!” Eric happily chimed in. “Level up, get a class, then spend a couple weeks building yourself up with calisthenics and learning how to use a spear, preferably with a handful of like-minded soon-to-be lifelong friends, and adventure together in the Wealthy tier delves of Ashland! Revel in the wondrous feeling of your health, your Vitality, grace, coordination and intelligence all reaching levels you couldn’t even imagine as your life span extends for centuries… or beyond! And don’t panic, I’ll see what I can do to make sure there are trainers and coaches available to guide everyone interested in the basics of adventuring, and getting the absolute most out of those first few precious levels as you shape yourself for an absolute lifetime of winning at life with zero regrets and only excitement for the future! So get ready to pull a win with your new life when you get to Ashland!”

  Eric said the last in an excited rush, realizing he’d just made it damn clear that he was well aware of what was going on and had enough pull to affect the flow of things.

  He stole a quick glance at his carefully blank-faced friends.

  “Anyway, just…” His eyes widened, actually spotting a newspaper stand. “May I? Thank you!” He said to the bemused looking man who happily handed him a copy. “Look! Elonia’s made front page news. She breaks it all down right here!”

  “Shit, we have papers again?”

  “I didn’t even think to take it seriously.”

  Eric cleared his throat. “Well, give it a read. Definitely worth your time!”

  “But he won’t take our money,” said one man in threadbare attire, glaring at the suddenly abashed-looking stand owner.

  “Look. It ain’t personal! I’ll take bottled water, food, even books. And I’ll give you a week’s papers on credit. But come on, lady, I need to make ends meet too! And with dollars being worthless… it’s gotta be barter.” The guy shrugged. “Sorry, that’s just how it is.”

  Eric winced, suddenly realizing that they had a very big problem on their hands.

  He quickly turned to Morlekai, skilled enough in blending in like the others that no one had focused on them at all, once Eric grabbed the limelight. “The trains! Are people even able to get on board?”

  “Train’s free to use, for now,” Morlekai assured. “Grim and Natasha’s orders.”

  Eric blinked at this, giving his friend a look before turning to the crowd with a smile. “Hear that? The train’s free! Just… be careful getting on board, watch out for small children, and no overcrowding!” He then gave them all a friendly parting wave, and somehow managed to effortlessly slipping through the flustered crowd to rejoin his friends.

  Drake chuckled. “There’s our boy scout. Always trying to help out.”

  “When I would have preferred just staring down that punk,” Louie said with a soft chuckle. “But, shit. He’s just a scared kid, right? Just needs some direction.”

  Eric frowned. “Yeah, but what was that comment on the sky about?”

  Alice furrowed her pert brow. “Really, Eric? You don’t remember that vile rift you closed in that absolutely fuckin’ epic battle Grim now has stored like a choice reel on his globe? We all saw it. And you should have seen the way mother was drooling over it!” She chuckled throatily, then gave him a pointed stare. “Just look up, Eric.”

  A frowning Eric did just that, seeing nothing unusual.

  “No, let’s get clear of the high rise… see? Right there!”

  Eric froze, smile stiffening into a clenched jaw, heart clenching at a sight chilled him to the quick.

  It was there.

  A crimson pulsating scar in the heavens, right where Song had tried to doom the entire city out of spite… before Eric had cleaved the bastard in half. Snapping shut that vile eye and ending the threat for good.

  Or so he had thought.

  Now that he had spotted it, he couldn’t let it go, sensing exactly where it was in the sky, no matter what direction he faced.

  It was a blemish that seemed to throb with odd pressure, like a pustule about to burst.

  Eric clenched his fists, glaring at the pulsating crimson slit of what almost seemed to be… a rift.

  “It shouldn’t be here.” Eric gave an angry shake of his head. “I felt it close. New York’s been conquered and claimed. My Interface made that clear!”

  Morlekai nodded. “Agreed.”

  “So, what the fuck is going on?”

  His friend shook his head. “We’re not sure. It has Mother on edge. Just one reason why she’s taking a hands-on approach in whipping the pathetic excuse for a city counsel here in shape so that they’re actually organized enough to do something besides take bribes, this time around.”

  Morlekai cleared his throat before Eric’s pointed look.

  “We... should have made things more clear. Orlin Ironthews has his hands full with locomotive orders, so the Countess has sort of stepped into the reins of running New York, both Night Realm and Topside, until your sister finalizes things.”

  Alice nodded. “Mother’s hoping her centuries of experience will prove to your sister just how useful an Administrator she can be.”

  Eric chuckled. “Getting in good with the ruling class. Not that I blame her. She certainly made a great impression on me.”

  “Yup! She wanted to get your okay with her helping to administer things in your sister’s absence. But I guess she was busy administering other things,” Alice said with a smirk, even as Morlekai cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the thought of Eric and his mom being an item.

  “She and Grim have been doing their best, with limited guidance from your sister who, to be fair, looked a bit overwhelmed when we last spoke to her using Grim’s crystal ball, to at least set up sufficient magic to broadcast the state of affairs and the Ashland offer. Beyond that, it’s administration, placation, and making sure everyone is fed as we figure out how best to… allocate eight and a half million people poorly equipped to survive in this brave new world… most having absolutely no memory of the two years just past.”

  Eric dipped his head. “Makes sense to me. Did Natasha formally volunteer?”

  Morlekai sighed. “Your sister was pulled away before we could finalize anything to our mutual satisfaction. That’s one reason why she insisted we drop by. The looping message your sister and Morlekai put together with Grim’s assistance is doing a lot to help until we can upgrade the city with more electromana capacity than what naturally emerged when we all woke up this morning. Fortunately, New York reemergence included fresh newspapers filled with articles with all sorts of helpful tips… thought it seems most people have forgotten how to do anything that doesn’t directly involve their now dead phones. Ha! Now enough about things beyond our control,” Morlekai said with a final glare at the crimson slit in the air that Eric now thought looked more like a closed eye filled with clotted blood than anything else.

  “We’re here.” Morlekai led them to a discrete establishment just off park avenue, gesturing them through the inlaid door into what Eric noted was a very posh looking restaurant indeed.

  Eric gave a pleased smile. “Low lighting, white cloth covered dining tables… and look at those waiters, not fazed a bit. And it’s only… what… nine in the morning?”

  “Almost noon, boy scout,” Alice said with a teasing smile. “A certain beauty kept you quite distracted, I think.”

  Eric flushed as the maitre d hurried over to greet them.

  The impeccably dressed man in his double breasted suit and perfectly gelled hair swept a bow.

  “Lord and Lady Thorn. Excellent. Please come this way. Your table is waiting.”

  Within moments they were seated in what Eric thought must be the nicest seats in the entire restaurant, their own private room with a great view of the park across the street, angled so that no passersby would be looking back at them.

  “The waiter will be with you all shortly.”

  They all grinned at that, and in very short order Eric found himself tucking into some absolutely delicious veal, stuffed quail eggs, savory pork cutlets, and of course, gloriously rich and meaty spaghetti with pitchers of beer and root beer making a happy appearance.

  Eric couldn’t help but groan at the explosion of savory flavors caressing his tongue and filling up his soul.

  “Absolutely delicious! Is it Italian fusion? It’s all so damned good!”

  Alice laughed. “Considering that its our own restaurant, it damn well better be!”

  Eric blinked, then grinned. “No wonder it stocks all your favorites. How profitable is it?”

  Drake snorted at that.

  Louie chuckled. “Do you know how hard it is to avoid being in the red in the restaurant business kid?”

  Morlekai winked. “In other words, it’s a great place to do business with associates, and it returns a stellar quarterly profit.”

  Alice nodded. “And in the evenings, you’ll actually see customers! So we do the serious stuff early.”

  Eric blinked, then smiled. “So it’s absolutely prefect for…” he mimed rubbing a stain out of his flawless suit.

  Drake chuckled. “That’s right! Launderin’ even without the laundry mat! Don’t give me that look, boss. I’m not saying nothing, and recorders are a relic of the past!”

  Eric nodded while absolutely devouring his third plate of spaghetti. “Unless you have serious money, that much is true.”

  “Money always finds a way,” Louie said with a cynical chuckle. “I’m not surprised to find it still holds true now, maybe more than ever.” He took a sip of red wine, giving Eric a thoughtful look. “So, boy scout, how does I feel to be the hero?”

  Eric blinked at this. “Sorry?”

  Alice chuckled throatily. “Don’t be shy, boy scout. We know it was you. Your delightful familiar kept her cute little mouth shut but Mother made it clear you had already claimed her key, and what your goal must ultimately be.” Her smile turned strained, amber eyes filled with wonder as she flashed a rueful smile.

  “I still remember when you first stumbled into our lives, a scarred boy looking for a crew to call your own.”

  Eric swallowed the nostalgic lump in his throat. “Yeah. I remember as well.”

  “And look at you now, boy scout! Going from being the lowest leveled among all of us to taking out both Mord and Song, Silver-tier would be tyrants of the entire Northeast, in epic battles that Grim had to slow to a twentieth of its normal speed before we could even make it out!”

  Drake and Louie exchanged pointed smiles. “One thing’s, for sure. We know our boy can throw a fastball and a right hook!”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Eric winced. “Yeah… both those battles came closer to ending me than I want to admit.”

  Morlekai flashed a pointed smile. “I can think of a few other fools who bit more than they could chew… and came damned close to losing everything.”

  The entire crew grew quiet with those words, their gazes a bit too solemn, a bit too reverential.

  Eric forced a chuckle. “But… yeah. Song tried to squish my poor elven brain before setting me up for his war hammer of skull crushing badness… but I threw him totally off his game with that fastball right to the kisser!”

  Alice gave him a pointed look. “He had twelve Death Knights, who’ve cut through the armor of of so many tanks and would-be paladins… ended the lives of entire guilds, Eric. Just a single one of them. And there you were…”

  She shook her head.

  “Taking all those fuckers out in one epic battle!” Drake noted.

  “With one fucking punch!” Louie enthused. “And some shouts. Titan Shouts? Very cool, those. Think I could learn them?”

  Eric chuckled, helping himself to some fresh spaghetti. “Who knows? Just be careful. Fucking with the variant I somehow put together could have, well, lethal consequences.”

  This earned startled silence and uncomfortable blinks.

  Alice hissed. “That shit blew off the head of fuckin’ Bronze tier Death Knights. You are not experimenting with that shit, Louie! Because the head that pops off might be your own!”

  “Quite possible,” Eric acknowledged with a candid nod. “If I didn’t have Dense Neurons and a Psionic Resistance of 400+… yeah. I used to take damage from my own Psionic shout, and even my nose would be bleeding on and off for a day. And I have pretty decent regeneration! But damn, this is some fine spaghetti! Seriously, ten out of ten from me, guys.”

  Louie laughed it off. “Yeah, I guess I won’t be worrying about Titan Shouts. And thanks, we’ll let the chef know she’s got the prince’s approval. So, what are your plans now, kid?”

  Alice’s eyes practically bulged out of her head. “Wait, what the FUCK, boy scout! You actually have a resistance over 400? I don’t care how oddball Psionics is… my mom’s a fuckin’ millenium old Succubus Queen, and she doesn’t have resistances over 400. And she’s Silver! At least a few ranks... So, how the fuck?”

  Eric winked, buffing his fingernails against his jacket. “Who can say how I nabbed it? Let’s just call it the mark of a smooth criminal.”

  Drake chuckled at that. “You certainly are, boy scout. Better be careful, though, or you’ll be stealin’ Natasha’s heart! And that woman plays for keeps.”

  Eric gave his friend a look. “She’s a thousand year old succubus queen who knows the score at least as well as I. I sure as heck doubt she’d be falling for a too-young goofball like me.” He flashed a fond smile for his friends. “Frankly, I’m just glad you guys aren’t freaking out that we’re actually, ahem…” He cleared his throat. “Seriously, guys. I’ve gotten… well, pretty strong since you’ve seen me last.”

  Morlekai raised a bemused eyebrow at that, in between bites of his Parmesan smothered veal. “We could tell.”

  Eric’s smile grew strained. “You remember the vaunted vault that served as the capstone of our Gilton heist? How much work we had to do to break through? Where we needed both secret codes and master-tier safe cracking skills and why the heck didn’t any of you get a burglar profession? Never mind. Anyway, point is, the same safe that took 4 fused 3-ton cannons generating 30 stories worth of force to tear through…”

  “And wasn’t that an epic play!” Luigi said, saluting Eric with his wine glass.

  “Yeah. I can now tear open that vault as effortlessly as you guys can open a door.”

  Morlekai blinked at that, before bursting out in laughter. “That’s rich, even for you, Eric. If only it were that easy for you or anyone to…” His words broke off, eyes widening with a look of outright disbelief. “What exactly is that in your hand, Eric?”

  Eric grinned. “It’s basically a cannonball of tungsten-osmium carbide. Harder and more resilient than any industrial material ever made by humans here on Earth.”

  Drake blinked. “Then who made it?”

  “The same guys making our high tech steampunk versions of the 1921 Flying Scotsman.”

  “Dwarves,” Alice whispered, before her eyes widened. “Wait, wait! Is that the same ball you used to smash out Lord Song’s fuckin’ teeth?”

  “Nope. It’s the sling version. That fucker forever destroyed the ball I used to improve his nasty-ass bridgework, and it cost me half a Soul point I’ll never get back. But that fucker is dead, and New York conquered, so… yeah. A win in my book.”

  Eric winked. “Hold it, guys. Get a feel for it. See if you can scratch it. Use whatever tools you like.”

  Louie scowled. “Alright, boy scout. Let me hold… shit, this thing is heavy! Drake?”

  Drake took ahold of the hundred pound cannon ball with a professional eye, before calmly shaking his head, now looking at Eric in a new light. “Nope. No tool known to man as of 2020 is scratching this thing. Not without some extreme fucking top secret lab or gauss cannon oomph or… what the fuck, Eric?”

  The entire gang was now gazing at Eric in silence so complete that the soft murmurs of the nearby waiters were clearly audible. That, and an odd ringing sound as the hyper-dense alloyed ball changed hue to a cherry red as Eric squeezed it like clay in his fist.

  Drake’s eyes widened with growing dismay. “Fuck, Eric, that thing has so much pent up pressure inside it… Shit! I think it’s going to ex—”

  Before his friend could even get his breathless words out, the smashed ball had already disappeared into Eric’s ES Space.

  Before it popped back fully restored as a perfect sphere, in Eric’s hand. “You better believe I soul bound this. Too precious not to be able to recall, and repair, at will.”

  Morlekai gazed at Eric for long moments. “Just how strong are you, Eric?”

  Eric winked. “Keep a secret?”

  “Til my dying day.”

  “Over 2800. Close to 2900.”

  All four of his friends gazed at him in slack-jawed disbelief.

  “No fucking way. You’re twenty nine times stronger than we… fuck, boy scout!”

  Alice’s look of awe, desire, and prickly jealousy was nothing short of adorable to see.

  Eric’s grin widened. He elected not to tell them about his hidden ace, just how strong he got when Burst of Strength infused his body and soul. And with the System’s subtle hints that Essence of Wrath would allow his shocking strength to overcome even higher order manifestations… potentially… that was one card he would definitely keep close to his chest.

  “2900 Strength?” Louie gazed at Eric with the same confused disbelief as if he had suddenly turned to an elephant and was trying to talk through his trunk. “How the fuck, boy scout?”

  Eric cracked his neck. “Two hundred pushups and situps, and ten mile runs every day. Super Punch man style. How the fuck else?”

  Drake snorted. “Super Punch man formula? That sounds so crazy that it just might…” He turned to Louie. “Do you think it could really work for lugs like us, Lou?”

  Louie snorted. “Just one point in Scholarship, my man. That’s all you need.”

  “Nope! Not gonna have the System mess with my noggin. I’ll read all the books Morlekai and Grim assign me. But at the end of the day, I’m still gonna be me!”

  Louie grinned. “Yeah, I’m just fuckin’ with you. You know I feel the same, buddy.”

  Alice, however, was glaring at Eric after nearly choking on her wine. “Be serious, Eric! How the fuck did you do it?”

  Eric effected a noble pose. “I will do whatever it takes to get Super Punch Man season four out into the world.” He smacked fist to palm. “No matter how many Silver-tier assholes I have to take out.”

  Drake and Louie chuckled while Morlekai and Alice exchanged knowing looks.

  “I think our boy’s a hell of a lot closer to pulling off a straight flush than anyone realizes.”

  Alice snorted. “Whole fucking continent will be a feather in his cap before the decade is out. No wonder Mother’s so eager to claim him.”

  Eric gave a contended grunt, digging into his pasta. “I’m sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you over the extremely tasty pasta that our awesome chef made. Did she already class up?”

  “You know it, buddy!” Drake affirmed. “No need for an Ashland run. She woke up with a sweet profession instead. Almost no one else did that we know of, anyway, but she’s one of the lucky ones and we’re grateful to have her,”

  “Indeed,” Morlekai concurred, tilting his head as he measured Eric with his gaze, giving a quiet smile, clearly pleased by what he saw with his friend. “Even concealing it as well as you do, only a fool would fail to sense that your a growing power not to be trifled with.”

  Eric snorted. “Sure, buddy. As opposed to a handsome goof who trips over his own tongue, Appearance stat and titles notwithstanding. We’ll go with growing power not to be messed with. So… what’s up with the measuring gaze like your sizing me up for an absolutely insane quest that I’m just the sucker… I mean hero, to take on?”

  Morlekai’s eyebrows shot up. He barked with surprised laughter. “Hardly, Eric. That’s the last thing on my mind!”

  “We were wondering what your plans are, now that New York state’s been, well, conquered?” Alice pulled out what looked to be a hand-drawn map of the somewhat altered post-apoc Americas, placing it upon the spotless center of their table with a flourish. She then tapped her graceful fingers on various nearby regions.

  Eric couldn’t help but grin at the way various regions glowed and grew in detail. “Nice Map,” he said. “Cartographer class?”

  Louie winked. “You know it, boy scout!”

  Alice grinned. “Glad you like it. Now New Jersey’s pretty small and compact. So’s Delaware. Or you could take on Philadelphia. After what you did to Song, I doubt they’ll want to do anything but surrender. And that’s your inroad to the entire state of Pennsylvania.”

  Eric blinked at that. “Yeah. Actually… I was thinking more along the lines of writing up a business proposal plan with Morlekai, where we hire a few hundred professionals with construction backgrounds and a few thousand trainers, offworld or local, who could serve as both a boot camp, adventurer academy and counseling center for the absolute shit load of adventurers who will soon be pouring off the trains who actually manage to gain access to the pods, having one or more precious nodes… but with absolutely no idea on what step to take to not completely fuck up their builds.”

  Drake and Louie exchanged grins.

  “Damn, boy scout, an assignment like that would be right up our ally!” Louie said.

  Drake nodded. “I’ve got like a dozen sweet ideas for barracks construction. Whether we’re talking small, comfortable shelters for a temperate training area like South Carolina, or fully fortified keeps, guild halls, and everything in between. You just tell me what you want, and we’ll get on it.”

  Eric grinned. “Sweet. Because we’re talking unlimited budget, my friends. So long as you keep everything aboveboard, I’m happy to let you play conductor to the entire operation.”

  “Fucking sweet!” Drake hooted. “This is the shot I need to break my profession past level 30!”

  Eric chuckled. “Always happy to help, buddy.” He then turned to Louie. “So, Louie, what’s the first step for our wet-behind-the-ears troops?”

  “Group cohesion and basic spear fighting techniques. Both individually and in squads,” Louie asserted without missing a beat. “It’s the oldest weapon known to man, will unlock the Warrior and, if they got any Native American blood in them, Primal Hunter class once they hit level 10. It might even unlock a Hunter profession and honestly, especially if we’re dealing with monsters, nothing’s more effective for newly forged delvers than taking on wild beasts with overlapping rows of spears. Beats the fuck out of swinging cutlasses or sabers at a jungle cats darting under our men’s shields, where any fellow’s swing is as likely to cut their fellows arms or throats as hit that cat!”

  Eric nodded. “Good. We’re on the same page. Unless you have a specialized class, node enhancement, Qi ability, or weapon feat, swords are great for slicing or stabbing tall, slender bipedal critters, and that’s about it. They’re shit for charging 4-legged prey, especially compared to a spear.”

  Eric grinned at his friend. “Still, I’m surprised you’re not going to pitch them mastering our beloved bardiches first?”

  This earned a snort. “Not a chance in hell, boy scout. Spears are what our new recruits will train with, and that’s all they should be worrying about for at least the first handful of levels. Hell, the first year, if this were an actual medieval training camp. Don’t forget, you were leagues beyond most raw level 0 recruits, even before you met us, with a mastery of spear and saber that put even Morlekai in his place. Just kidding boss, ha ha. Anyway, with clueless kids who don’t know what the hell they’re doing, giving them glaive bardiches that could cleave right through imperfectly made armor, or just break the necks of people wearing even high quality steel helms if swung with sufficient force by a mortal, let alone a classer, and expecting them not to kill each other when the first wild boar charges between their legs is a fuckin’ recipe for disaster.”

  Eric winced at the cool looks they all gave him. As if he was actually going to recommend that they take those risks in pursuit of growth as rapidly as possible and damn all risk. When, in fact, he was all about people-first safety with everyone in the world.

  Except, of course, for himself.

  “Point taken. No glaive bardiches until you give the okay.”

  “Damn right,” Louie concurred. “Far better that they learn how to thrust with their spear, because wild, panicked thrusts from green troops are still pointed away from them, and they’re at much less risk of injuring each other. Because far better the first aid tents take care of the occasional off-angle spear poke, then trying to put someone’s cracked head together by who knows what quality caber of magic.”

  Drake nodded. “Humpty Dumpty and all that, boy scout. Because your neck might have healed okay when my shield brother got a little bit too enthusiastic with a training bardiche, but most green recruits are not getting put back together again when their heads burst open like a ripe melon.’

  Eric and Louie both winced at that.

  “Yeah, I got it, guys. We’re going with the classics first.”

  “Damn right, because that same boar charging into a pair of half-clueless bardiche wielding idiots that would end up taking each other out with their own weapons… will be a very dead pig if it runs tusks first up the shafts of properly planted spears.

  “Sounds like a plan to me, sorry for the stupid question.”

  Louie grinned. “Nah, your question was actually fair. Why the hell not our glaive bardiches? Those things were more effective bracing for the charge than even a boar spear! Short answer is because we’ll lose at least 5% maybe 20% of the kids just from being idiots and fucking up, especially if beasties get too close, when they’ll be swinging full force and panicking their asses off, not enjoying a carefully controlled sparring match like you and I did. And yes, Drake, I did pull my blow, and Eric was just dazed for a minute. Right, buddy?”

  Eric smirked, trading a look with Drake who rolled his eyes.

  “Sure, Louie. Will go with that. So, what’s next for our boot camp training regiment?”

  “Anyway, the very first thing we need is to form unit cohesion and loyalty. Espirit de corpse! So I’m thinking bunks with room for 20 or so and one fatherly drill sergeant type who will both train them and look after them. A bit more fatherly than a US military drill sergeant, maybe, because its about forging true bands of brothers that are like family. Bands that might end up adventuring and growing together for decades. Hell, maybe longer! But still, the ones in charge will be strong men who won’t take any bullshit that the entire band can look up to and respect!”

  Eric frowned. “I note you’ve specifically been emphasizing male recruits and trainers.”

  “Damn right,” Alice butted in. “This might be the post apocalypse, but most of our recruits will probably be teens and dreamers, all of them high on the wonder of a brand new life, and maybe high on testosterone, boosted attributes, post traumatic stress bullshit, and way too much else. And since we’re not idiots…”

  “No fucking co-op bullshit until they’ve all got their heads on straight, they’ve all shot up in levels and discipline and we know that they have good moral character,” Morlekai added.

  Alice’s eyes twinkled. “And if we’re making sure both the boys and girls hit level 10… or level 9 and have begun core infusion, we’re giving the girls time for their physical stats to match the boys… so that first level difference of two fucking points in Strength is no longer making it so damned tempting for idiot boys to do really stupid shit. So… yeah. Separate male and female barracks and trainers, and maybe a bit of muay thai and wrestling or BJJ on top of their spear mastery for the girls. Because a right hook and a wrist lock might not mean shit in the delves, but could help prevent a hell of a lot of misunderstandings when people are engaging in some R&R.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Eric said while mentally jotting down what his friends were saying pretty much verbatim in his Dominion Interface message to Caliban, only then noting the shit ton of messages he had long gotten out of the habit of checking. “We can add personal self-defense to the curriculum for the boys, once they hit core infusion. Also, it might help them earn a good brawler class, and that’s not even counting the cultivation possibilities… but we’ll worry about that later. Anything else?”

  Louie grinned. “We’re just getting started, boy scout! First night that our recruits pop out of the ascension pods we’ll feed them and welcome them and tell them that the world’s their oyster, but only if they don’t fuck up! We’ll start things off with a light run, just so the newbies know we’re serious, then we’ll have an evening bonding session. We’ll get the new recruits to laugh, share their dreams, then burst their bubbles by showing just how fucked up and perilous a path they’re now walking.”

  He then raised a finger. “But, so long as they take our advice and train their Strength and Vitality to at least fourteen and grab those free points before boosting those stats with levels earned, doing things just a bit better than me and Drake did, ha ha, they’re going to get through it all okay. We’ll build them up, we’ll train them, we’ll have the boys with the most nodes leading as big a party as they can to take on low level prey as a well-coordinated group. Because survival is the order of the day. Not shooting up the ranks until you make a single mistake and explode in a pretty display of fireworks and that’s all she wrote.”

  Eric’s smile widened. “Love it. And don’t forget that speed and accuracy drills with spear, and maybe practicing with dwarven double shots if I can get Orlin to add that to the steam locomotive orders, might also be a sweet way rank up both their Finesse and Quickness by at least one free point. It might also open up all sorts of cool Archer and Sniper classes, and I know that for the really talented, mastering dwarven weaponry can lead to all sorts of cool class options.” He furrowed his brow. “But if Orlin’s too backed up, I’m sure Caliban could fill an order for a few thousand System standard doubleshots. I’m pretty sure they’re standard enough for no bullshit restrictions? But we’ll go the dwarven route if we can, or bulk orders filled by Blue Corp, if that’s all I can get ahold of.”

  “That’s what I’d do,” Drake grinned. “That first point of Finesse should come quick. Then, once they actually know what they’re doing, let them start adventuring and earn one or two levels and pour all those points into Finesse! So they’re not losing out on the free point they could have gotten with our hardcore ironman regimen. That way, they can be leveling up and really mastering their weapons while still pumping that iron and doing those daily sprints to hit that golden 14 for both Strength and Vitality and do it all without wasting a single level-up point! Besides, Finesse is absolutely key for grace, coordination, group cohesion, and making sure the idiots don’t panic and cut each other’s heads off when it’s finally time for our bardiche classes!”

  Eric grinned. “I think we’re on to something really solid here. Though we don’t want them hitting rank ten with any weapon until they hit that fourteen Strength, so no effort’s wasted.”

  Louie snorted at that. “Believe me, Eric. That won’t be a problem for anyone who’s less of a gifted oddball than you are.”

  “Fair. Okay, I just sent a message off to Caliban…” His smile turned to a frozen rictus. “Shit.”

  Alice’s gaze filled with sudden concern. “Eric, what’s wrong?”

  “Besides the fact that Caliban’s desperate for us to meet A-fucking-sap and he won’t even say why on a DI message?” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “Boy, do I hope everything’s okay. I really wanted just a few days where I could decompress.” He then glared at the spot he couldn’t see from inside the restaurant, but now felt like an uncomfortable oily pressure. “But with that fucking pustule… yeah. No relaxing for me. Not completely.”

  Morlekai’s brow furrowed. “If you have to get to Freetown, we’ll prioritize the next train immediately.”

  Eric blinked, then chuckled. “No need, buddy. I’m actually pretty fast on my own two feet.”

  Drake frowned. “Eric, it’s over half a thousand—” His words cut off when Alice coolly shook her head.

  Eric ignored the byplay. “Guys, I really loved breakfast. Thank you! And um…” He gazed pointedly at Alice. “Tell your mom I said goodbye?”

  She grinned. “It’s cool. I know you’ll be back. And so does she.”

  Eric snorted. “Yeah. While I’m the neighborhood, I’ll stop by our friends the dwarves, see if they have any more cool toys I can take with me and maybe there’s a certain orc chieftain I should have a quick powwow with before I head out. Best to make sure everyone’s on the same page as far as New York City goes. With me being just a well-meaning bystander, of course.”

  “Of course,” Morlekai said with a knowing smile. “Be well, Eric.”

  Eric clapped his friend’s shoulder. “You too, Morlekai.” He then grinned at the pair of eternal jocks. “And I expect to see you two at Ashland as soon as you tie things up here. I think we’ll soon have a few thousand people to billet and train and… wow. We’re going to need a fuck load of tents and pavilions and gym equipment to push all those attributes to 14 or even higher, aren’t we? Hell, Alice, you’d be perfect to lead the training efforts for at least half of our recruits, now that I think about it. Okay guys, talk to you all soon!”

  He was touched by their parting hugs.

  “You’re like family to us. You know that, right, Eric?” A tearful Alice said with a smile.

  “You better believe it,” Louie said, holding his girl’s hand.

  Eric winked. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m looking forward to seeing Ashland becoming the adventuring mecca of the entire fucking world, and seeing you guys at the helm!” And before his friends could even blink, he was gone.

  Drake whistled, before turning to a grim-faced Morlekai. “Just how fast is boy scout now, boss?”

  Morlekai slowly shook his head. “Grim says his Quickness is over 2000. But what does a number that high even mean?”

  “It means we should have all been sent flying with the sonic boom of his passage, but I didn’t even feel a breeze with his exit,” Alice whispered, eyes widening in sudden realization. “He was holding back. We took him at face value the whole time, used to our beloved boy wonder, but the entire time, he was holding back so fucking much!”

  “Not with that osmium whatever ball of his,” Louie noted. “He made it clear right then and there that he’s strong as fuck.”

  Drake furrowed his brow. “You don’t think Eric’s really a Silver in disguise, do you?”

  Alice chuckled. “Hardly disguising anything at this point. But… yeah. If he’s been shooting straight with us… and it feels like he has… half the reason why Mother savored him was just to weed out a potential threat. But… no. He’s just as upright and adorable as we always thought he was. She confirmed it, and now she’s utterly smitten. And he’s only, what, twenty?”

  Drake chuckled. “Boy scout always did have a way with the girls. Even if he played the shy, hard-to-get type.”

  “I know!” Alice took a sip of her wine, lost in thought. “It makes no sense. Mother’s the fucking succubus. And Eric’s just a half-elf kid!”

  “Hardly, child,” said none other than Natasha herself, appearing out of nowhere.

  Alice and the others paled, immediately genuflecting before the countess, earning an indulgent smile.

  “At ease, children. You have nothing to fear. From Eric, at least.”

  She swallowed, features growing pale.

  Morlekai’s gaze sharpened. “Mother, what’s wrong?”

  She took a shuddering breath. “It appears that we thought the battle won too soon.”

  Alice anxiously bit her lip. “Mother?”

  She wordlessly gestured to the mist gathering in the back of their private dining room before walking through it, and fading out of existence completely. Louie and Drake exchanged glances, but none of them hesitated to follow her through the mist, finding themselves in a grandly appointed study filled with ancient leatherbound tomes and eldritch arcana. At the center of the chamber before an obsidian table was Grim himself, peering over a shimmering globe.

  The Moorish gentleman flashed them all a brilliant ivory white smile.

  “It appears that Maybel Drachen was unexpectedly successful in her quest, and is now bringing over guests.”

  Alice scowled at the sight of the woman in question reclining upon a plush leather seat within a passenger car paneled in fine oak and polished brass fittings. She looking ready to do battle in a sleek power suit, with a document-filled satchel resting in her lap as she traded nods with the half dozen similarly dressed men and women who radiated potency and beauty in equal measure as rolling forests and fields flashed by the reinforced windows at their back.

  “They all look like... Fuck!” Alice turned to her brother. “Morlekai, they all look like high powered lawyers!”

  Natasha dipped her head, eyes flashing. “That they do. And not weak ones either.”

  “But… why?”

  Grim traded a glance with the countess. “I believe, children, that they are coming by train to discuss terms.”

  “What terms?” Morlekai glared at the smug countenance of the crew of lawyers heading their way.

  “They’re more than just lawyers, children. By now you should realize who and what Maybel Drachen truly is.”

  Alice’s eyes widened. “You’re not saying she’s really a… oh, shit! A whole half dozen dragons are coming this way! Why?”

  Natasha snorted. “That should be obvious, darling. To negotiate for our surrender, of course.”