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Doki Doki Interplanetary Economics Club

1.1 A State of Decay

bluepencil

Indentured Artist
Author
-.
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Kaden Ye was having a spectacularly bad year, bad week, bad day. He was still hungry, still tired from driving all night, but even so he had to go out *by himself *into the fucking zombie-infested wilderness to find and fight some fucking plague zombies so that he could rip out some plague samples to culture a cure for his fuckup of a best friend.

Dammit, Einar.

These new freaks, blood zombies that looked like their skin just burnt right off, leaking red blood that would turn people into more like them… regular zeds were bad enough if they could mob you, but every contact with a plague zombie was a risk.

So he had to be quiet, but also fast. He could see regular zombies moaning and shuffling along, and while they wouldn't be much of a danger alone he couldn't afford the noise. He looked back for a moment while he crouched in the underbrush. The Firewatch Fort was up on a small hill, the tall fire watch tower granting a commanding view over the camp grounds. Zeds rarely had a reason to go uphill, but noise might carry.

Below the rise the countryside opened up into a main road with dilapidated junk yards and some small shops and a gas station. He clutched the tire iron in his palms and took a deep breath. Plan was to creep in silently behind the zed – what used to be a woman in a nurse outfit, probably some poor soul who got bit and died tending to the unprepared campers when shit hit the fan - kick behind the knees to bring it down, and the ram the tire iron straight down with all his weight into the bridge of the nose, crushing the skull and pulping the brain before it can even let out a warning moan.

That plan went all to shit when he heard a high-pitched scream from somewhere to the left.

The zombie turned around, its sightless eyes wide open, and it opened its rotting jaw to let out an almost excited moan.

"Dammit, Sayuri!" someone else screamed, a more masculine voice this time. "Get back here!"

"W-what's going on? Stay away! STOP!"

"It's a zombie, it won't listen to you!"

"WHY IS IT FAST?! AAAAH THESE ZOMBIES CAN RUN!"

"GET OFF HER!"

The nurse zombie began to run towards the noise. Kaden hissed. "Fuck this." He sprang up and intercepted the zed with a two-handed swing straight to the face. The zombie bowled over, its legs kicking up dumbly as its head went the other way.

Losing no time, Kaden Ye followed through with hard smashes into its head. Once, twice, three times. Until its head was a caved-in ruin. Blood splattered over his weapon and his own face. He spat out the bitter taste in his mouth.

"HRAAAAH!"

"There's more of them!" some girl shrieked again.

"You have a thing, use it! Just push them over or something!"

"Uh- all right! WATER!"

"Monika, give me a rock!"

"A wh… hang on! Oh wait I get it. EARTH!"

Kaden Ye ran for it, and circled around the hill and some rocky outcrops to see a bunch of teens in tan uniforms slowly being surrounded by zombies. Two of the taller girls stood almost back to back on a boulder rise.

A smaller girl – wait, was that pink hair – was holding a long stick like a spear to fend off a zed. That wouldn't hold for long.

Another girl was on the ground breathing heavily, while a teenage dude smashed in a zombie's face in with a rock. Kaden, his mind honed by seven months of survival in the post-apocalyptic zombie America, put together that he'd just recently wrestled off the zed off the girl.

The other zombies, three of them, were still shuffling uphill.

Kaden reached for the pistol at his belt. He only had enough bullets as what remained in the magazine. The selfish, rational part of his brain told him to just walk away, he had enough problems. The other part reminded him that there was safety in numbers, if he didn't help these kids here then he couldn't live with himself either.

The noise would bring other zeds, but there was no choice. He raised the gun and aimed at the zombie snarling and scrabbling at the little pink-haired girl. The stick she was using to keep it away was pushing into its throat, and stale viscous blood was starting to ooze out the tip. Not feeling any pain, it pushed through, and the stick broke.

The girl closed her eyes and winced like a dumbass.

But before he could pull the trigger, a fire-hose strong column of water came out of nowhere to punch the zed in the chest. The zombie fell down and began rolling downhill, letting out almost confused yelps.

"Natsuki! Over here!"

One of the taller girls, the one with long brown hair in a pigtail with a white bow, crouched down and lowered her hand to help the other girl get up to safety on the rocky point.

And yet the pink-haired girl hesitated to touch that hand.

The other girl grimaced and almost pulled back, then desperately dropped even lower, flat on her chest. "Come on!" she shrieked.

The boy was helping the other girl to her feet. The other zombies now also screamed their mindless attack cry and started charging uphill.

"Right, fuck this!" Kaden Ye sniffed in contempt and began shooting. Bang! Bang! Bang! The first two shots plunked mostly harmlessly into a zed's chest, staggering it long enough for the third to be a headshot to put it down permanently. He silently cursed at the wasted bullets.

"WIND!" the girl with the short light brown hair shouted at the incoming zombies, and pointed her fist at them as if punching the air.

And then out of fucking nowhere, this horizontal tornado came out and pushed at the two zeds, throwing them ass over end downhill too.

The guy with the messy black hair ran downhill, no hesitation whatsoever, with a large rock held on both hands overhead. He smashed their faces in and then looked around frantically for more zeds.

Then their eyes met.

Kaden Ye couldn't explain it. There was just this strange, almost electric feeling – it was like fear, but not. He found himself raising his gun up again, pointing it the teenager.

In response, the kid only raised his left eyebrow like a fucking Vulcan. He could tell the kid was even almost amused by the threat for some reason.

"Oh!" the girl standing by his side gasped. "There's someone." Then she raised her hands up in surrender. "Um. Don't shoot we come in peace?"

What the shit.

Like, seriously, what the shit is going on here?

-.
-.

There was something wrong with these kids.

And he didn't mean just the fact that they apparently had fucking magic. It was just that they were too… clean. They were even wearing uniforms in the middle of fucking nowhere. Who does that? Not in up county Washington State, no way.

Comparing to his wrinkled unwashed, zombie blood-stained clothes and jacket, they had improbably clean clothes and clean faces.

"… Zombies. There are zombies," the one with the long black hair murmured. "WHY are there zombies?"

This was all sorts of fucking impossible.

Everybody should already know about the walking dead by now. Why there are zombies, no one knew – but no one should even be surprised anymore.

"Is this Providence Hills?" the boy asked.

"Yeah?" Kaden Ye replied reflexively. "I think. I'm new here too. Who the fuck are you?"

The girls scowled a little at his rudeness, which really ticked even more his weirdness list. Who the fuck gave a shit about language anymore?

"I guess you could call me… MC. This is Sayuri. That's Natsuki. Yuri. Monika. And you?"

"Like MC Hammer?" Kaden Ye replied. "I'm Kaden Ye, but you can all me Full Pint."

"Like Guinness?"

"Shit, you're the first to get that reference. Most people just think it's because I didn't want to be called Half-Pint anymore." As an Asian-American, that was something he had to deal with in a school full of tall jocks. Even as an adult, now that he had grown to his full height which was actually average, he still had a round almost baby face.

His gaze went off to the distance. He supposed much of the reason he was friends with Einar House was that he was the only other kid that could be bullied more because the others would say "Ay-nar" with a pun on "Anal" and "Anal House."

He blinked at returned to the present. His finger was still outside of the trigger ring in basic firearm safety, but the gun was still only half lowered, pointed at the ground but ready to go up and shoot at any moment. "So what's going on here?"

"Nothing's going on here. We're lost and have nowhere else to go. Could you take us in for a while, sir? We can be useful." MC replied with a cheery grin that made Kaden Ye want to punch his stupid clean teeth in.

Kaden Ye sighed. "I'm… kinda busy right now. You see that tower over there? Go there, they'll take care of you."

"Do you need to kill some more zombies? Let me help."

"Kid, I don't know what's with the…" he raised his left hand and made wiggly motions with his fingers "but I don't need help. You're just going to get in the way. Get out of here, and tell them I sent you." He would deal with all that bullshit later, he had to save his friend first.

The kid turned to look at the girls. Then he nodded.

"All right. No sense risking it. See you back at base, Full Pint!"

-.
-.

Kaden Ye squinted suspiciously at him, then sighed. He moved aside and waved for them to go.

He watched for a bit in case there were any more zombies around, and then descended to where he was told some plague zombies were lurking.

An abandoned car lot with rusting hulks had some of those red-skinned zombies just standing around. One of the plague zombies was a huge fat one. Five of them.

Plague zombies were a hell of a lot more aggressive than regular zeds. But like all zeds they didn't actually see things as such, they reacted to sound and motion. If he could just take them down one by one…

He put aside his tire iron and readied his knife. One stab, straight into the brain.

He crouch-walked past a semi-trailer without a truck and behind the cover of a rusting red pickup. The plague zeds were walking around aimless, moaning and hissing now and then. He waited for one to walk past, and then he lunged.

Since the zombie had a bare upper torso, he didn't have anything convenient to grab to pull it down to the ground. With his left hand he grabbed it by the neck and stabbed straight into its temples with his knife in the right. The zombie crumpled without a sound.

Kaden Ye grimaced and wiped his wet left hand on his pants. The plague zombie just oozed red fluid, and its temperature was hot. How could a dead thing have a fever? If it was decomposing inside, how could it still be so active?

Zeds, man. A year after the outbreak, all of them still made no fucking sense.

He was now out in the open. Kaden Ye froze and tracked the others. Another zombie with its back to him was walking parallel to an old blue bus. Slowly he tracked over it to it.

This one, despite being long dead, somehow managed to preserve its modesty with a tank top and undamaged black jeans.

Something fell out of its chest as he silenced it forever. Some sort of pulsating, globby mass of flesh held together by something like a hot red jelly substance. It was almost like it was breathing, or beating like a heart. He didn't want to touch that shit, no way.

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The former Army Doctor (it was unclear which was more AWOL, her or the entire US Army), Dr. Gilliam, had given him plastic bags to collect samples with. Slowly and using some loose sheets of metal, he scooped some Plague Samples into the bag.

Then he heard a sharp hiccupping rasp, and the happy shriek of a plague zombie on the attack. FUCK! He turned around just in time to see a red zombie about to dive onto his back.

"Earth!"

A sheet of rock rose up from the ground and the plague zombie rammed face-first into it. Kaden Ye, scrambled back to his feet and took out his weapon. The other zombies, now alerted, screamed and rushed out of their cover.

MC and Monika peered from behind the chain-link fence surrounding the old car lot.

"What the fuck. I told you kids to go the fuck away!" he hissed at them. He looked back towards the direction of the town and the charging mess of zeds and decided it was the best of times to get the fuck outta there. He scooped up the plague zombie sample and ran.

"I had a feeling," MC said, starting to run uphill as soon as Kaden Ye approached.

"Earth!" Monika half-shouted, pointing her fist at the incoming horde. Several pillars rose from the pebbly soil around the car lot, and the zombies crashed into the barriers tangled with each other. Their noises would attract more zeds, but hopefully they'd linger around each other than following them uphill.

Kaden Ye looked at the girl's hand. She had a golden ring with a bubble center stone. Like a glass marble, there was a design behind the clear bubble.

"Earth…?" he whispered.

They ran uphill and vaulted over a wooden fence. Seeing no zeds on the chase, Kaden Ye paused to take some deep breaths. He squinted again, accusingly at the teenage boy. "You… you didn't even do anything."

MC shrugged.

"That ring… is that *Heart*?"

"Yup."

"What is this Captain Planet bullshit…" Kaden Ye wheezed.

MC smiled gently. "Planet's dead. We're on a mission from Gaia."

"Heh. F-fuck off, you Blues Brother."

-.
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Bpen Production presents

DOKI DOKI INTERPLANETARY
ECONOMICS CLUB


1.1 A State of Decay
 
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Related to the title, the only thing I know about interplanetary/interdimensional economics is that everything can be categorized in two specific prices: "worthless" and "priceless".
 
It's going to be a slow burn. There are unspoken but nonetheless tangible rules at play here.

It's dangerous to have a monopoly sometimes.
 
It's going to be a slow burn. There are unspoken but nonetheless tangible rules at play here.

It's dangerous to have a monopoly sometimes.
The only safe monopoly to have is the one on force, as long as it's real, comprehensive and enforced. Therefore, fictional.
 
1.2 A State of Decay
Watchtower Fort
Providence Hills
A State of Decay


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"Hey buddy! I'm back! You'll be ok, don't worry!" Kaden Ye shouted into the makeshift fort.

"U-uncle Pete? Is that you?" Einar murmured woozily back from behind the haphazard log walls and boarded-up chain-link fence barricades.

Dammit.

He didn't know if Einar was getting sicker or he's getting more stupid. His jokes were always stupid. He did have an Uncle Pete though, the only decent member of his family. With his incessant puns Einar made him completely hate Peter Parker.

"Do you have the samples? Just put them in storage so I can start working on the culture," Doc Gilliam also spoke up without looking.

"Will do."

Kaden Ye entered, followed by MC and Monika.

Inside the improvised fort was a floor of just packed dirt and at the center was a raised iron fire pit. Three girls sat on the bench facing it, and from left to right in ascending order of height, hair length, and shade of hair. And also (cough) bust size. The girls brightened at seeing their friends, and Kaden Ye felt a pang of bitter envy. No one had looked at him like that for a long time now.

Instead he looked over to the left, the Infirmary was beside the door, and saw lying down on a folding bed his friend with a deathly pallor.

"You can fix this, right Doc?" he asked the woman in green medical scrubs standing nearby.
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Doctor Josefa Gilliam was a middle-aged black woman, whose lifetime of stress made her look older than she ought. Nonetheless behind that short haggard stature and deep-set frown, her eyes held a tireless will to be kind. "I'm working on it now."

"Fuckin' hell, have I died and gone to heaven…?" Einar moaned. "Hey baby. Are you the first of my forty virgins?"

Monika scowled down at him. "Doctor, may I give this man a therapeutic punch to the face?"

The doc snickered. "Maybe for you. Hang on. This antiviral culture isn't going to take long."

The infirmary was a square facility roughly boxed in by metal tables and shelves on one corner, storage in another corner piled up against the perimeter wall, and the beds on the third corner. She worked on the plague cure, mixing whatever chemicals and meds needed straight into the vial for injection.

She continued "The thing about the Blood Plague is that it depends on the viral load – past a certain threshold, it becomes lethal very quickly, transforming you into another Blood Plague zombie within a day if left untreated. But before that threshold, the immune system can keep it at bay almost indefinitely.

"So if we can supercharge the body's immune system with the specific antigens that can fight the blood plague, your white blood cells can purge it at an even more accelerated rate. As long as you know the method, it's almost so simple anybody can brew up the cure." Her voice grew soft for a moment. "A cure… only works before someone turns."

Kaden Ye remembered the plague zombie in a cage in the medical facility inside Camp Osprey, the abandoned refugee site. The Doc didn't have the strength to execute the person who had been all she had left in the world. She gave him the gun he now carried.

He looked down at his friend, only wished that he too wouldn't need to finish him off with a bullet to the brain. He looked up again. "How long is this gonna take?"

"Not long. Half an hour, at most. As long as your friend doesn't move around or increase his heart rate to speed up the spread of infection, he'll make it."

"Hear that buddy? You're going to be just fine." He bent down slapped several times at his best friend's shoulder.

"A-awesome. A little fucking fever isn't go- going to keep me down."

"Great. Just hang in there."

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"That's good to hear. Doctor Gilliam, Full Pint, maybe we can now address this other issue?" A deep voice came from the left, and those inside the infirmary turned to see a black man dressed in army fatigues approach. This was Rasheed Vaughan, the last member of the four-man crew that managed to evacuate off Camp Osprey.

He was the one that knew about this little hideaway upstate, in the old campgrounds where there might be less zombies. The larger towns were complete dead zones, no one should ever go there. However, despite being an active duty military and with a tall trained physique, his demeanor had an almost deferential layer to it. He was a man who was most comfortable with taking orders, working with a team.

"Is there a problem, sir?" MC asked. "I realize that five more mouths to feed might be an issue in these times, but we can work hard to make up for it."

"No, no, that's not a problem. Not at all. Saving civilians should never be problem. I'm just saying… we don't know anything about you, you know?"

"To be fair, you don't know much about us either," Full Pint interjected. "We just showed up in camp a day ago and my friend got bit and you didn't even hesitate to give us all the help you could give. Really, thanks again for that."

"Not a problem, my man. Happy to help." He grinned. "So, like, I'm Rasheed Vaughan, Corporal US Army. Not that it matters anymore. How about you guys?"

MC looked down at Einar. "I'm MC."

"And I'm Monika," said the girl by his side.

"Could we defer the whole meet and greet though until your friend gets better?"

"Man, what a Cunt," Einar moaned.

Rather than get angry, the kid only snorted at the insolent play on his name. "I see you too are a man of culture."

"No. No, I'm going to put a stop to this right now!" Kedan Ye all but growled. "There will be no more Pun Warriors in this here camp. I'm banning that shit, right here, right now."

-.
-.

Seven months. Running. Scavenging. Never being able to sleep easy. At almost every corner he could hear the undying moans of zeds. Never being able to trust anybody, it's not just a zed eat human out world out there – anyone you meet could be all smiles one second and then gutting you to steal your supplies the next.

Kenan Ye slouched on a chair. This was the first in a very long while that he felt like he could just rest.

"I've got the cure. Just hang on, you'll be better in no time." Doc Gilliam injected the plague cure straight into Einar's neck.

Within minutes, the pallor and dark veiny lines in his friend's face cleared up, his eyes showed the light of life again, and he sat up with surprising energy. "I'm back and ready to kick ass!" he crowed.

He looked around the camp. "So. While I was out, when did we start living in a fucking anime?"

That… was also a surprisingly accurate way to sum up the situation.

-.
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The group of teens with their pressed clean uniforms and their stupid colored hair blinked at him with such complete lack of guile it was painful. These freshies are so much zed bait, how in the hell did they even get here?

After the rounds of introductions, the answer came back: "We don't know."

"What do you MEAN you don't know?" Kedan Ye groaned and rubbed at his forehead.

They were all now sitting around the fire pit, some of them standing because there weren't enough chairs to go around. The kids on the bench, Doc and Vaughan on chairs, while Kenan Ye and Einar stood behind them, leaning on the nearby metal poles holding up the tall four-posted canopy tents opposite each other.

"I mean we don't know. Last thing we knew was like an hour ago, we were walking in the woods somewhere."

"But you… you knew something. You asked if this was Providence Hills." Details. He'd always been good at that. Realizing what was unusual was the difference between life and death. And when something was too unusual, it was even more important to make a note of everything.

In the zombielands, anything unusual usually meant death.

"Well I know something," MC replied with a shrug. "I can't explain HOW I know the thing, but I know a few things about this place somehow."

"Yeah? Like what?" Einar asked with a sneer.

"This world is fucked. It's irreparable."

Einar rolled his eyes. He was leaning on a post over at the supply depot. "That's a surprise," he drawled out.

"I mean in a completely tangible way," MC added, leaning forward and rested his chin over his bridged hands. "It's been, what, over a year since the zombie outbreak? The pandemic struck globally within the space of a few weeks. Cities considered lost causes inside a month. Russia nuked things. Zombies are everywhere, and they're mutating, and they are billions."

He turned towards Doc Gilliam. "Given the spread of infection and how so few survive, would it be reasonable to expect that everybody alive right now are probably asymptomatic carriers for this zombie pathogen?"

The Doc hummed. "I would say so. It doesn't matter how someone dies… as long as their brain is intact, they get up later as a mindless, ravenous creature."

"Given the total collapse of all industry, all social order, would it be reasonable to expect that over ninety percent of all humans are now dead?"

Yuri looked up sharply. "What? That…! That can't be true!"

Doc Gilliam shook her head and sighed. Gently she said "It's probably true. Before the outbreak, a lot of people were reported dying of natural causes – heart attacks, pneumonia, like that. We thought there was a viral super-plague that functioned somewhat like air transmissible HIV.

"Some countries tried quarantine… but then when people started dropping en masse, that just meant that isolated populations started falling and eating each other. All police and military forces were stretched thin trying to maintain quarantine. Eventually it was shown to be futile when the zombification proved it can happen anywhere at any time."

"Is that what happened to Camp Osprey?" Kenan Ye asked.

"Camp Osprey crumpled due to zed horde that looked almost organized. Juggernauts broke through and the zeds just poured in," Vaughan replied. "Command decided to pull out. Most of the refugees died quickly in the first rush, the few that managed to get into the secondary fallback position were loaded onto trucks and the military decided to evacuate.

"How did you two survive? Why did you stay behind?"

"Well… Doc didn't want to give up on the plague cure. If there were anyone else that needed help, then we wanted to stay behind and spread how to cure the plague as much as possible. We got on the radio with instructions how to make it, hopefully some of the people we spoke to passed it on."

He shrugged. "It wasn't sustainable. We knew we had to bug out sooner or later. You just showed us it was the right time."

The girls looked so lost. The boy… that look in his eyes looked far too old for that face.

"MC… what are we gonna do?" Sayuri whimpered.

MC put his hand over her shoulder and pulled her close. He rubbed their heads together. "What else can we do? Survive."

That was so sweet Kenan Ye felt like gagging. But Doc Gilliam and Rasheed Vaughan just brightened up, all but going 'aww' at how cute that was.

What kinda name is MC anyway? Maybe it was short for Manuel Sy or something. These kids all looked vaguely Asian yet also felt all-American somehow, if that was a feeling he could trust. Despite their Japanese names, it was much more believable if they were some crazy weeaboos or something.

"Great, what're we gonna do with these newbies?" Einar groused. "They're suspicious as hell, but they're sure as fuck not going to survive out there. If they can't fight, then they're just freeloaders."

"What, of course we can fight!" It was the littlest pinkest one, Natsuki, who said this.

Einar stared at her, growing even more unconvinced by the second. The girl stood up straight and matched his stare. Pouting.

That… was not helping her case.

"I'll show you!" she shouted. "FIRE!"

She pointed her fist at the fire pit, and a glob of red flame whooshed out of her ring, clanging against the side of the fire pit with an unscientific amount of concussive force for a fire ball, and set the coals alight.

"WHAT THE SHIT!" Einar yelped. He jerked up from leaning on the wooden post, almost lost his balance, and then pointed at the kid. "HEY, DO THAT AGAIN!"

"… Fire?"

This time, a stream of flame came out of her ring, which she shaped into a fiery loop in the air before unclenching her fist and letting it fade away in the late afternoon light.

"Whoa!" Vaughan yelped with an excited pitch, "What is that? Some sort of weapon?" His face squelched up. "Is it magic? Please let it be magic…"

Kenan Ye groaned. "Right. I forgot to mention that. These kids have some sort of Captain Planet bullshit going on."

"Earth," said Monika, and the ground in front of her broke apart, and a rocky spike shot up.

"Fire!" Natsuki said again, and a cone of red flame spurted out of her ring, safely held straight up.

"Wind," said Sayuri, and from her ring a wave of cool air rushed out, ruffling everyone's hair.

"Water," said Yuri, and a small stream of sparking clean water came out of her ring.

"Heart," said MC. His ring glowed a bit, but otherwise didn't do anything particularly notable.

"It's magic," said the black-haired teen.

"I KNEW IT!" Vaughan roared in triumphant, childish glee.

"Fuck me," Einar muttered, still shocked but starting to accept it.

It was only Doc Gilliam that didn't react. She leaned forward to look closer at the rings each of the kids had. She frowned. "Is that really all there is to it?"

"What do you mean?" asked Monika.

"Earth, Fire, Wind, Water… Heart? These are molecular reactions, where's the energy coming from? Are we looking at matter creation ex nihilo?"

"Oh. That. Don't worry about it," said MC with a nonchalant wave. "We're taking potential energy off tectonic plates. The total energy present in the system continues to remain the same, apart from what the sun keeps adding every day."

"That somehow clarifies and yet completely fails to explain anything."

"What ARE you?" Einar hissed. "Some sort of crazy government project? Are you aliens? I bet you're aliens!"

Kenan Ye groaned again. "Dammit, Einar."

MC just shrugged. "I 'unno."

"I… am just going to have to take you at your word about that," Kenan Ye sighed. "Well? What about it guys? Are we taking them in?"

"We CAN be useful," Yuri insisted, showing her ring. "In times like this, a source of fresh clean water is valuable, is it not?"

"Should you be doing that?" Vaughan asked. "I don't think you should be showing off your ring like that, what if someone tries to take it? Is that even possible? How does that even work?"

The girls looked to the guy in their group again. He shrugged some more. "It's magic. I mean, it doesn't matter if someone tries to take it, it wouldn't do anything for anyone else. Think of it like a magic wand, it's a pointless piece of stick if you're a muggle. Get a gun instead."

Monika nodded. "Just tell us how we can contribute, and we'll do it."

The adults looked to each other. Doc Gilliam looked neutral, but was already convinced. Water was very important, yes. Fire and Wind and Earth, they could find a way of putting those into practical use. Vaughan looked giddy. He nodded repeatedly, and mouthed silently 'Do it'. Einar just seemed vaguely irritated, and looked away.

Well that was two approving, and so with him… Kenan Ye nodded as well. "All right. Welcome to the group. We're all just Survivors here now."

"Great!" Vaughan hopped to his feet. "Now that we've got some time to breathe, it's time to think of how to keep ourselves safer. We've got to build this place up."

Kenan Ye shook his head. "The best way to keep ourselves safe is to clear the area. Take out some zeds and we can rest a little easier."

Doc Gilliam looked up at the sky. "It's going to be dark soon. Do we have any time for that?"

"Why not both?" MC put in. "We have enough manpower for that now, don't we?"

"I'm ready to knock out some zeds," said Einar, reaching for his baseball bat.

"Dude, you just recovered. Take it easy for a bit." Just half an hour ago he was vomiting stinking yellowish paste.

"No, no, I'm fine. Let's do this." He slapped alternately at each of his own shoulder joints. "I'm one-hundred-percent a machine of kicking ass all ready to go!"

"Dooooc?" Kenan Ye turned desperately towards the Army medic.

"It should be fine. But survey the area a little before heading out." She pointed up at the great watch tower above them all.

MC looked towards Vaughan. "[Earth] and fortifications go hand and hand. We won't need as much material so quickly if we just need to stiffen defenses."

"Excellent. Let's go evaluate this place and see what we can do."

That just left three girls – Yuri, Sayuri, and Natsuki – who looked towards Doc Gilliam for instruction. She smiled and stood up. "Well girls, it looks like it's up to us to make this place more livable." Yuri would go on water-making duty, Natsuki and Sayuri on finding a way to prepare five more sleeping areas.

Kenan Ye climbed up the stairs, Einar following behind. With binoculars they surveyed the area all around the camp.

Due south of the camp was Winchester Village, which had a gas station, a gun shop, a row of small stores, and mainly small family homes and trailer parks for the locals. This was a place that lived mainly off tourists. Now it didn't live at all.

"Found a Screamer," Einar noted. "Got to kill that before it calls in more zeds."

"Right. Clear that and some zeds all around the hill and we're done."

-.
-.

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The Screamer was a limbless zombie, usually with pasty white bloodless skin, but its mouth bifurcated into this creepy worm mouth. Or like a Predator, if you remembered those old movies. Somehow it could still move around despite having most of its body clawed open with most of its guts missing, even standing upright on an exposed spine.

It couldn't fight very well, but it had more sensitive senses than most zombies and when alerted, damn, was it LOUD.

Taking it out with stealth took some careful movement.

"Or you could just shoot it in the head," Einar said with a chuckle after the event.

The bang of a pistol was loud, but at least it wasn't as loud as a Screamer. Kenan Ye blew on the pistol barrel, twirled it around his fingers like a gunslinger, and put it away.

Nearby zeds were alerted by the sound of the gunshot and started shambling towards the pair. Kenan Ye smirked and hefted his tire iron. This just made their job a little easier.

Zeds were dumb. As long as you could fight two on one, one by one, they weren't much of a hassle. A kick here to ruin its footing, then turn around to smash the face of another while your buddy finished off the one on the ground. It was routine so much at this point, it was comfortable.

Smash. Smash. Smash.

Kenan Ye took deep breaths and slouched over a bit, resting his palm on his knees. The biggest danger about zombies wasn't that they were particularly dangerous opponents – in the end they were just human dead, examples of the wingless, clawless, furless biped that became the world's sole super-predator by virtue of its tool-using brain, not any physical advantage. The worst any zombie can do was to bite and scratch.

But in a mob, they could pull anyone down, and tear and eat. The living can get exhausted if they swing and fight too much too soon, but zombies never let up.

"Say, is this… is this really all right?"

"Hm? What's wrong?" Kenan Ye looked around. "We'll circle around the hill again, but there doesn't look like there's any more zeds."

"No, I mean, taking in those kids. I don't trust them, man."

"I don't either. But I suppose we'll just have to see what happens."

"For all we know they've got some creepy government hit squad after them. Maybe they got some freaky zombie bait trail or something. Maybe they're mutants… or aliens! Really, I think they're aliens and they're just waiting for us to let our guard down. I bet this whole zombie thing is some sick alien experiment and they're just checking in."

"You're being paranoid… is what I'd like to say. But you're right. We just have to be careful." Kenan Ye straightened up and slapped his friend's shoulder. "But Corporal Vaughan and Doc Gilliam didn't have any real reason to take us in either. They just saw we needed help, and they did it. Now we're in the safest place we've been in months. I'm just saying… this time… we've got to pay it forward."

"A'ight then. I don't wanna have to say 'I told you so'."

"Because that's usually *my* job."

"Ey fuck you asshole."

"Scumbucket."

"Dirtbag."

"I'm Batman. Insert hygiene related insult here."

Seriously, Batman in the Animated Series could only do that. Batman wasn't allowed to say 'fuck'.

The two best friends laughed, hefted their bloodied weapons over their shoulders, and began walking on. Still young, and still unconquered. In this land ruled by the dead and the dying.

-.
-.
 
1.3 A State of Decay
Josefa Gilliam didn't think she'd ever get to do something like this again – to teach. Someone so fresh and innocent, so young and untainted by this dead world. No one would ever be that clean again. Interns were quickly used up by the pandemic, and children were among the first to die.

There were rarely any children that could be seen among the walking dead outside for a good reason. Their bodies fell apart too quickly.

She closed her eyes and remembered – she had to perform some emergency surgery during the past year of hell. Even stillborn children would try to claw their way out of their mother's insides. Some too young mothers would feel their child move inside them and feel hopeful, but slowly even that unborn would rot.

No one was safe. No one was sacred.

"Ma'am? Doctor Gilliam?"

The doctor blinked. "Ah. Right. Separate antiseptics between isopropyl and ethanol. Put that over there. Both are poisonous when consumed, but later we'll have to manufacture our own alcohol."

"Oh? Is that possible? I mean, with what we have here?"

She chuckled a bit. "With some old fruit cans we can start making a still, plus side is that without copper we end up making moonshine too unpleasant to drink. This sure ain't what they teach in the girl scouts. Or even the Army for that matter."

"Fascinating. Did it become necessary to produce local antiseptic? That seems kind of... crude... for the army."

"When you have to treat hundreds of people, and all of them can turn into zeds when they die, you start to get really careful about disinfecting even small cuts before they get worse. People need to be able to rely on themselves instead of using up diminishing industrially produced medicine for the more critical cases. Clean every bite, because antibiotics are a luxury. But that only applies when you're inside a refugee camp."

Josefa sighed. "I don't know if it's partially a good thing or not… but just by how sudden everything fell apart and with so few survivors, there's probably still a good chance to find meds unlooted inside drug stores."

"Is that so?" Her current assistant, Yuri, was a tall and elegant beauty. Someone like her wouldn't survive out there… not because it was too dangerous (because it was, zombies and starvation disease knew no pity nor discrimination), but being a beautiful young woman in a world without law would swiftly learn why that was a curse. Only a terrible fate awaited a pretty girl all alone in the world.

She whispered with a voice gentle as a flower "I'm sorry. All of this… I just don't quite feel yet how real this is."

"It's all right. Sometimes I wake up, and I feel that it's not quite real too," the doctor replied. "Sometimes if I close my eyes I dream that next time I open them up, it'll be like when you can just walk into a store – with air conditioning! and buy just whatever you want again. Sometimes it feels like yesterday. Sometimes it feels like a forever ago."

"I'm sorry. I mean to say, it all feels unreal. Like even I'm not real."

She considered Yuri, with her pristine school uniform. "What's the last thing you remember? Where were you before all of this?"

"I'm not quite sure. I remember we were at school… then…" Her face scrunched up in concentration. "I remember my house, I remember living in a city… but it's all so vague."

The army doctor winced. That was too suspicious, really. She didn't seem to be lying, so that left the question... brainwashing and memory implantation, that was mainly in the realm of thriller fiction, right? She knew that memory implantation was possible due to how people could convince themselves of anything, but kids with special powers coming out of nowhere in a world where zombies are going around from some sort of extremely virulent undetectable contagion?

If these things didn't have a link somewhere she'd eat her gloves.

"I see. Would you consent to some tests? Just some routine blood work." They managed to pack a microscope, and there were some basic tests that could be done without equipment. She could still test for blood types and count white blood cells.

Yuri went rigid for a moment, and then nodded. "... Yes."

"Don't worry, it's just a precaution. We all need to build a medical record anyway..." Dr. Gilliam said soothingly. She regretted the necessity and believed it was highly likely all these kids had all been grossly experimented on. But information saves lives.

"Doc! DOOOC!"

They turned towards the gate. That was Einar's voice. The young man rushed inside in a frenzy. "Doc, we got bit by Blood Zombies again! What do we do? You got any more of that Blood Cure?!"

Doc Gilliam looked him over. "You… don't look injured. And the antibodies should still be working in your system."

"No, it's not me! It's my buddy, Full Pint's been bit!"

"I said I'm fine," the Asian-American man said in that deep and somewhat posh way as he walked in behind his friend. "I don't feel any of that symptoms that hit you so quickly when you got bit."

"Where were you injured?" she asked while beckoning him closer into the improvised open-air Infirmary.

Kedan Ye showed off his bandaged arm. Hastily they unwrapped the arm. Sensibly, Full Pint wore a long-sleeved denim jacket that was resistant to biting and tearing, but in the thick of combat being grappled by zombies even that could tear. Like all zombies mutated over time with thicker nails and surprising jaw strength, Plague Zombies had even more weird undead ferocity and power.

The wound was a long gash across his forearm, skin scraped raw by a raking hand, and they could see a deep bite bark. The wound was red and inflamed, but the blood had already mostly clotted. The doctor washed over it with clean water and wrapped it again with sterile bandages.

"Cuts like these bleed a lot, but that's a good thing. It keeps the infected fluid from getting mixed into the blood stream. Neck bites are a lot more serious. You should be fine."

"Thanks, doc." Full Pint nodded gratefully.

"Fucking gas station didn't just have a Screamer, it was a full goddamn horde."

"Then… why did you still try to fight them?" Josefa Gilliam asked archly.

Einar sniffed. "Ain't like it's the first time we had to fight a horde." His eyes flicked towards Yuri for a moment, and then he raised his jaw pridefully. "Came out of it without a scratch. Full Pint here just got unlucky after capping that Screamer in the head, did you know fucking plague zombies can fucking *climb*?"

At seeing the sudden fear on Yuri's eyes, Kenan Ye added "Fences. They can climb over like fences and short walls. They can't climb ladders."

"But we have a fence!" Yuri piped up.

Kenan Ye hummed and looked back. Some parts of the wall had barbed wire on top to prevent climbing. Some portions, specially the front and back exits, were fixed onto sturdy vertically emplaced log fencing, if mostly for aesthetic reasons than the practical. The metal mesh and wire sections of the improvised Firewartch Fort were reinforced with wooden boards. "Zoms can still pull themselves up some of these walls, I think."

"Are… are we safe here?"

"That's why we're clearing out the area around the camp," he added. "Less zoms means they're not going to attract more zoms when they hear a noise. Better than just building a wall and hoping that's enough."

"I heard somebody talkin' shit about my wall like I wouldn't find out about it." Rasheed Vaughan sauntered in, grinning.

"Yeah? What'chu got done, Jack?" Einar sniffed.

"Come on back and see."

-.
-.

"It's a hole," Kenan Ye noticed.

"It's a ditch," Vaughan answered quickly.

"Why are you so proud of digging a hole?" Einar brightened up suddenly. "You A-HOLE lover. You put this right up the back side-"

"STOP. The moratorium still holds," Kenan Ye hissed.

"It was I that did this," Monika spoke up. The girl had a different atmosphere to Yuri, a more upright and dependable air. Her green eyes glittered with challenge.

Einar looked towards her, and scowled. Dudes could harass each other with sexual jokes all day, anyone who gets mad instead of a good time insulting back has no sense of humor or has something to hide. But say the same thing to a pretty girl, well that's another thing entirely.

MC, standing beside her, only smiled indulgently. Einar huffed and crossed his arms.

"Are you digging a moat?" Dr. Gilliam asked. "How useful could that be?" Zombies didn't fear water or tried to dig sapper tunnels.

Vaughan grinned. "Close, but not quite. Any of you guys remember visiting a zoo? Ever noticed that the insides of the cages of dangerous animals are LOWER than the visitor floor?

"At first I was thinking we could make some easy bricks, since it turned out raising a rock wall is kinda noisy and makes a small earthquake – not good when there's still zeds around. But just moving earth is much quieter. Zoos have been doing this for ages now to make sure animals really can't reach their visitors – hell, a lot of Jurassic Park shouldn't even happen if they did this basic thing."

"I see. So instead of making the walls taller, you plan on just making the ground around it lower. But wouldn't we have to worry about the ground collapsing under us instead?" Doc Gilliam asked again.

"No, see – look at that firewatch tower. That's steel all the way through. That's a lot of weight on some poor soil. The foundations for that have to go pretty deep, right?" He moved his palms around in a circle. "But you can see from those big exposed boulders out there that under most of these hills are some pretty solid bedrock."

"It's white basalt," Monika added. "For some reason I get with my [Earth] powers a sense for geologic composition too."

Weird secondary power, but ok. MC standing beside her just hummed contemplatively and said "Just imagine how bad it would be if Natsuki had the [Earth] Ring instead."

Kenan Ye and Doc Gilliam looked confused for a moment. And then they got it. Oh noo.

"She… would probably *not* kill you. Maybe...?" Monika murmured.

He began humming a jaunty tune. "I am a dwarf and I'm diggin' a hole. Diggy diggy hole. Diggy diggy hole~…!"

Monika laughed. Then she stopped abruptly. "I shouldn't. I'm sorry. That's… improper of me. I shouldn't laugh at my f-" No. She coughed and looked away. Her and the other girls. They were not friends. Not any more. However they held an intimate level of antipathy that precluded the use of the word 'acquaintances' either. "Companion's… *snerk* …. shortcomings."

Einar's eyes widened. "Oooh. I get it now." Natsuki, that little pink-haired girl. With a pickaxe. So angry. So cute. Even more anger. "That would be… bad. Very bad." His tone was completely sarcastic.

"We're not going to level out the whole hill, the front still needs to have a slope so we can drive up our vehicles. But at least we can reduce the avenues of approach that zeds can take."

"What do you mean 'we', Army Man?" Einar chuckled. "You're going to have a girl do most of the work anyway."

"Hey man, I'm an expert ditch digger. It's not as easy as it looks. It… Okay, it's easy if you have like *fucking superpowers*… but I was deployed on active duty overseas then recalled all in a hurry when this whole thing happened, and let me tell you – we spend a lot of time with earthworks and making up defensive fighting positions before any fighting can be done."

Vaughan left it unsaid, but all too clear to them all, that once zeds were no longer a problem then the biggest danger would of course be from other humans. A small rise wouldn't stop them any… and any obvious fortifications would make their camp look even more attractive as it would look like they have good loot to protect.

Monika smiled. "I don't mind helping. Really, I don't."

"And what about you, mein commandant?" Einar addressed MC. "What does [Heart] even do? What kinda lame-ass power is [Heart] anyway?"

"Sense nearby life. Talk to animals. Strengthen immune system? Mm? Yeah, it does that too." The ring on his finger glowed as he double-checked, the information apparently flowing into his mind. "Emphatic sense and knowing when people are lying. Telepathically contact other ring-bearers and allow them all to communicate silently over great distances without radio…"

Kenan Ye let out a 'huh' noise of approval. "Okay, that's cool. Heart isn't a useless power after all."

"But it has no attack power," MC finished.

"It's a great force multiplier, don't worry about it!" Vaughan laughed. "Aw man, this is all too cool. Too cool!"

Einar still looked doubtful. "Any of that work against zombies?"

MC shrugged. "Zombies are *dead*, so no."

"Man, fuck you then." But Einar was grinning, he was just joking around now.

Kenan Ye and Vaughan's eyes met. An understanding passed between them. Sensing life and being able to possible command animals were powerful abilities when scavenging. While zombies might not register since they lacked living hearts, once again it would be *other humans* that would be the most dangerous to face out there.

The kid would be useful to take along on an expedition, but probably too valuable to risk. These kids were a sub-faction within their group, would it even be possible to forbid him if he wanted to tag along?

Doc Gilliam's mind mainly caught onto the 'strengthen immune system'. Then she frowned. There was no reversing zombification. Once you die, you rise as a zombie. The only possible remedy was to prevent death at any point. This would probably save a lot of meds.

They needed to run some tests. Just how effective is that power compared to pharmaceuticals?

Then she shook her head and sighed. No. Nope. That way lay unethical mad science. It wasn't like they had acceptable test subjects anyway.

Her eyes flicked towards Einar for a moment.

No. Acceptable. Test Subjects.

-.
-.
 
1.4 A State of Decay
-.
-.

They started with four people, and now suddenly they had to deal with feeding, housing, and protecting nine people. This was a massive change that, had it been anyone else, they would have just told a group to just take a hike and fend for themselves. But for now, this crew were happy to sacrifice.

It would have been a harder choice if five teens with no other advantages just arrived out of nowhere wanting to join up, but even so they would have probably allowed them to join or set up camp nearby anyway. Sending them away would be equivalent to just murdering them.

For Full Pint and Einar, refusing shelter to pretty young girls who were not yet selfish conniving bitches would be an unthinkable hit to their masculinity. What kind of men would they be to be too weak and cowardly to protect such beauty?

Vaughan was acting like a doting father, and while that was weird since he was still just in his mid-twenties, it was also understandable. He had always been good with working with a group and hated to give orders. He wanted people to work together instead of being forced into it.

Monika looked content to let the boys talk, but her few comments were always insightful and she was extremely careful about using her power. While MC's face had this faintly mischievous cast to it, he was like an under-achieved only interested in whatever could challenge him. He was an intuitive problem-solver. They all clicked so quickly. Vaughan was enjoying working with reasonable people on productive mutually beneficial goals again.

"Now we don't have to be in hurry to get all of this done, but we will still need some materials. We don't have enough beds for everybody."

"Excuse me? What are you talking about sir?" MC said while raising an eyebrow. "This place is a camp area, there's loads of popup tents around." He pointed to all the empty space inside the fort. One of the two tall sun tents was already dedicated to storage, but the other stood empty. There was more free space at the far end of the fort near the back gate. "And the cabin on top of the tower can fit six people, easy."

"You kids stay up there, where it's safe. But tents aren't good – sleeping inside a tent makes it hard to react in time when zombies tries to siege a camp. A folding bed is much more practical. We only have three down here at ground level, one of them in the infirmary." Vaughan had already sorted it out that Dr. Gilliam and Full Pint would get two of the beds under the shade of the tower, and Einar could sleep again on the infirmary bed.

"I can sleep on two chairs and the bench, it's fine as long as it's off the ground." He explained that he was used to sleeping to the ground. The middle east had hot days and even colder nights.

"I still don't get it."

"Insulation is important, in times like sleeping on the ground leeches too much warmth. Anyone who wants to go out searching for resources can't afford to be coughing and sneezing. A bed roll you climb into is good for you kids, zip up and keep warm. But zombies can attack any time, it's very important to be able to stand up and fight asap."

"No, I mean – I saw wooden plank dining tables out there outside near the car park. Just bring those inside, and walah! Instant beds. There's four of them. Take the canvas out of the gazebo even, no one needs that anymore."

He blinked. "Huh. You know what, I forgot about that. Let's go have a look."

The benches and the tables were nailed together. Vaughan rubbed at his clean-shaven chin. "It's still a good idea anyway. Once we get a saw, we could separate the tables from the benches. They're still too big to fit inside…" - the tables were just too wide to fit into the door no matter the angle - "But I think we could just separate all of these into planks and then nail them back into tables once inside."

"That's plausible, sir. On the other hand…" He stepped back and gestured with a bow to Monika, "We do have someone that can build ramps. The first of the simple machines."

Monika scoffed. "Walk like an Egyptian, Player."

And that was how, as soon as Full Pint and Einar arrived carrying more bedrolls from the nearby camp sites, they were forced to haul heavy wooden outdoors furniture up and over tall walls.

"This is bullshit!" Einar shouted.

"Be careful, don't fall! Keep straight!" Kedan Ye shouted back from the other side of the wall.

In the end, it was a matter of dragging the bench-tables over to the wall, raising a section of the ground like a forklift, then picking them up and slowly passing them over the wall.

"You can do it!" Vaughan cheered from below.

Watching one's sons work hard was also a father's joy. Wahahaha.

"Assholes!" Einar spat.

-.
-.

The other girls watched from the tower's first level. Sayuri came from from upstairs, having finished putting away the bedrolls, and leaned on the metal railings. "What's going on over there?" she asked.

"Monika's trying to be useful," Natsuki replied.

"… Pathetic," Yuri replied after a while. The tall girl leaned on the railings on her elbows with her back facing away. She slouched with a dark expression.

"Um. Isn't this a good thing?" Natsuki tilted her head cutely to the side.

"This is bad," Natsuki hissed. "They don't know her. She's doing it again, trying to act like a reliable person… a good person." Her voice grew shrill frantic. "It's wrong! This is just wrong!"

"But… why? If she's trying to do good then we should support that."

"Are you going to just forget everything?! She's a monster. Don't forget that. Don't let her forget that!" Yuri hissed. "I don't forgive her. Do you? Look at her. Look at him! Your precious best friend's standing there like nothing's happened, like she didn't mutilate him and left him for brain-dead – if you can forgive that, I don't know what to think about you!"

Natsuki added "The more she acts all snooty and like she's a club president, the more people won't see it coming when she stabs us all in the back again. They're not going to believe us."

Sayuri flinched back. She tugged at the ribbon on her short tan hair, and whispered "No. No I don't forgive her. But… I kinda feel like where she was coming from. After MC removed her… I went crazy and tried to do the same thing. It was Monika that put a stop to it."

"And? So what? She still did all of that, two people doing the same thing doesn't make either step stop being crime! And you didn't even get to finish doing anything, it's just attempted murder. Her solution to that was ACTUAL MURDER. She chose to kill all of us instead so we would stop suffering."

"And now… I don't know how to feel about that. Knowing things… it was painful. We were so happy when we thought we were just having fun in the literature club. Now, MC saved us from that. We're free." Sayuri huffed. "We're able to do whatever we want in a world of infinite choices."

Natsuki smirked. "Well we know what YOU want to do."

"T-that doesn't have to do with anything. So what if I'm the… the first girl, the childhood best friend archetype...? I know he loves me and I love him back – there's nothing wrong with that! I just trust him to know what he's doing. I mean, remember, one of the powers of [Heart] is *immunity to mind control*. He can stop her – or any of us, if we go crazy like that again."

"So we have an off switch and that makes you happy?"

"MC is two people that both mutilated their minds, two people becoming one person, just to give us all these powers so we can protect ourselves. MC is not a fucking Jesus metaphor – that sort of self-sacrifice that borders on self-hate I don't accept!" Yuri snapped back. "I won't allow that bitch to continue to get BENEFITS from her sins!"

"We have to warn them," Natsuki said firmly.

"But you just said they won't believe us. What if we tried to make ourselves look useful first?" said Sayuri.

Yuri shook her head slowly. "No, it must be clear that we're not doing it out of jealousy. We're not going to try and match ourselves against Monika. It's not about who is being more useful. This isn't about any stupid thing like a stupid little pecking order. These are good people and we owe it to them. There's a lot we don't know and a lot they don't know, and we can't be friends if we don't trust each other. Monika is *dangerous* and *not to be trusted* and everyone should know that."

"Please don't. Don't make any plots that try to 'reveal her true face' or something."

"No of course not. What do you think this is, some sort of wretched tv soap opera? Please." Yuri flipped her hair back with contemptuous sophistication. "We don't need anything except the truth."

-.
-.

Below them, Dr. Josefa Gilliam was just about to walk out into the open, entering the fort again from the side gate under the tower. She stayed in the shadows instead.

She grimaced and palmed at her face. Aaah fuck. She knew this was all too good to be true.

In some way that made her feel a little better. So much power in the hands of some emotional young people should realistically be a disaster. But this escalated way too quickly.

She asked herself: would it still be worth it to try to protect these children who might not be so innocent after all? This promised to be a huge hassle in the future. Powers were dangerous. But if they were right about this then ostracizing someone would just make their fear into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

She ducked even further behind a steel beam as Yuri descended the rungs of the vertical ladder.

-.
-.

And in the end, the tables were a little too big after all. But two were placed under the shade of the empty tent for a moment, and another two near the fire pit. Kenan Ye and Einar lay flat on the tables, exhausted.

Yuri approached, carrying cool fresh water inside large plastic bottles. "Thank you for your hard work," she whispered. "We'll have dinner soon."

"Beans, beans, the musical fruit! Nyahahaha!" Natsuki announced from her high perch with a cheeky grin and with her hands on her hips. The more you eat, the more you toot!

"Hey thanks," Kenan Ye said with a weak little laugh.

"I'm hungry as hell. Sorry ahead of time, but you gotta feed me a lot," Einar wheezed shamelessly.

"Thanks for today everyone!" Dr. Gilliam said loudly as she came into view. "Don't worry about it, I just checked that we still have enough stocks for everyone. We're all friends here, don't hold back. Don't even think about who is owing what. We've managed to survive this far, now we can try living again!"

-.
-.
 
1.5 The Plague Heart
-.

-.

The defensibility of the Firewatch Tower fort was from equal parts its remoteness and its compactness.

Zombies were brainless but could gather and roam in hordes. They could infest places like houses and shops and garages, and their noise would accumulate even more zombies until there were enough that they would split off another horde to roam around until they found another place to infest. No one had any idea what sort of instinct guided zombies, but if even army ants with such tiny brains could perform surprisingly sophisticated cooperative behavior, then zombies of sufficient number might also act in a way that seemed intelligent.

But whatever instinct ruled zombies, one thing remained true – it was a hassle to walk uphill. So most of their mindless wanderings lead them to pool down to lower regions, like each individual zombie was a drop of water finding the way of least resistance.

But that was its own problem. Firewatch Fort just didn't leave much space to do anything. Less so now with Monika carving out sections of the hill into a horseshoe cliff.

Vaughan kept nagging for materials, so eventually Kaden Ye and Einar gave in and scavenged for parts and lumber. With that, the soldier created a roofed Workshop area so they could maintain weapons and equipment. The empty space opposite the Storage area became a box garden.

"It takes weeks to months for vegetables to grow, is this worth it?" MC asked, while crouched and staring doubtfully at the planters.

"Securing a sustainable food source is essential to the survival of any community. It's been a year since the outbreak, and eventually we're going to run out of food to salvage." Vaughan paused and looked up from nailing boards together. "… Is there a way to magic up faster growing crops?"

"Plants don't have [Heart] and aren't affected by [Elemental] magic, all they need is the sun. I suppose faster growing crops would also knock the ecosystem out of order, so it makes sense Planeteers don't have that power."

"All right. It's no prob."

"Zombies don't really seem to care about plants though. Why can't we just plant potato or corn rows outside the walls?"

"A month is a long time, we don't know what will happen. Having the food source *actually secure* will help. This part here can serve as a nursery, we can replant crops outside later. We just need something we can be confident won't be trampled by zombies." The soldier slapped a nearby wooden box containing fertilized soil. "A garden can be agricultural or botanical, a setup like this could also be really useful if we want to grown medicinal plants later."

"I see. Also I suppose we can monitor for pests if they're close by? Moving outside of the walls would always be a risk."

Vaughan nodded. "It's been a year but while zeds are rotting, they're not exactly dying. Farming and harvesting fields isn't really a thing we can do anymore in confidence."

"Until then, what do we eat?"

"This is why we need to set up Food Outposts."

-.
-.

How would setting up an Outpost inside a disused Fast Food or Bakery give them a daily reliable food source?

The difference was in equipment. It was possible to haul away sacks of flour. Ovens and gas stoves? Not as easy. Full Pint and Einar categorically refused to haul any of that shit uphill. It was much more sensible to use food preparation equipment there and then bring in cooked and preserved meals to the camp.

"Nyahahah, I have returned!" Natsuki shouted through the gate. "The Foodbringer has come! Accept my blessing, mere mortals!"

"THE QUEEN OF LOAVES! THE EMPRESS OF PASTRIES!" Kaden Ye bellowed above her, opening the gate. "WORSHIP HER BREADY MAJESTY!"

"Natsukiii welcome back!" Sayori squealed.

"I just hate all of you," Einar sighed.

Puns were supposed to be his thing, dammit.

Natsuki walked in, carrying a covered tray with a pair of mismatched mittens and grinning widely. Kaden Ye followed, brandishing his tire iron like the fasces of a praetorian guard. Lastly, Einar walked in carrying the rest of the baked goods.

Many hands made light work, but more people needed to eat more every day. Kaden Ye and Einer every day set out to scavenge, but Natsuki also wanted to contribute. Today they stayed behind to guard the Food Depot while she baked.

Yuri tended to stay inside the camp, being trained as a field medic. Sayori was another person too valuable to allow outside. She tended to the camp's cleaning and laundry.

Zombies were quite flammable, though setting them on fire had the usual problem that they're now trying to hug AND they're on fire, so now YOU'RE on fire. Natsuki's [Fire] however could give an explosive component to push and shred zombies.

Truly, this girl with the pink hair was walking the road of Explosions. Small and cute as she might look, she at least had some combat support ability.

Every time, no matter how cleared out the area of zombies, everyone still worried. Just because she had a chance was no reason for her to be ever in a position in which she had to fight. Sayori bounded over to hug her. "Thank goodness you're okay!"

"Hey! Watch it! Don't make me drop this!" Natsuki laid the tray down on the wooden table near the fire pit. She uncovered it with a flourish. "BEHOLD! Bread."

"Oh wow," Dr. Gilliam sniffed at the air. "That smell, nothing quite like freshly baked bread. It's been so long since I smelled that. Thank you for your hard work, Natsuki."

"Eheheh. It's nothing."

"Aw, no cookies?" Sayori pouted.

"Sugar's getting hard to find. It's better off being used in small bits to make drinks taste less bitter instead of mixing a lot of it into bread."

"It's okay. I understand…" Sayori looked sad, but nodded. She didn't want to be selfish. "I didn't really expect anything, this is already amazing…!"

Natsuki then pushed apart the center loaves to reveal brown chips hidden in between. "SO OF COURSE THERE'S COOKIES!" she declared vehemently.

"YAAY!"

Natsuki made a V-sign of triumph. This creepy world needed a reason to smile now and then!

-.
-.

"Hey, Yuri… got a sec?"

Yuri turned around from watching her friends and Josefa Gilliam start slicing the bread. She did not trust herself around knives, not just yet.

"Yes, Mr. House?"

Einar sidled diagonally to her, and leaned with his back to the wooden wall near the garden. "So, like while looking around the mini-mart, we found some of these." He showed her a pair of chocolate candy bars. "And I thought, hey – you could have it as thanks for all you're doing."

Yuri blinked again. "Umm. That's sweet of you, but it's not really necessary…"

"Come on babe, don't leave me hangin'. Just take it. It would make me so sad if you don't."

Yuri hesitantly raised her hand, and plucked the bars out of Einar's fingerless gloves.

"Cool. Enjoy."

"Mr. House?"

"Yeah?"

Yuri stared at him intently, and once again Einar was struck by the unique arresting beauty of her purple eyes. No one had natural purple eyes, it was impossible scientifically, though some had a shade of it from blue-gray. Hers was just a deep dark wine tint.

"You should know, I… am not really available for a relationship," she said softly but firmly. "After everything… I'm not really comfortable with this sort of thing."

"Heey no pressure babe. No pressure. Just being nice, is all." Einar grinned widely and waved his hands. "Share it with your girls if you want, you all are doing good and you deserve a little treat. Don't mention it, I just don't want to make a production of it, is all."

A strange look flashed across Yuri's expression for a moment. "I… see. All right. Thank you, Mr. House."

"Hey, all I'm asking, call me Einar. I ain't my dad, you know."

"Um. Ok. Einar. Thank you again." Yuri bowed.

"Excuse us a minute," Kaden Ye suddenly sidled up behind his friend and grabbed his arm. He forcefully pulled Einar back and out of the nearby gate.

Yuri blinked, confused, watching them go. She looked down at the candy bars in her hand. She shrugged. She went over to share with Sayori and Natsuki.

-.
-.

The pair went outside by the back gate. The hillside past the fence was carved down to bedrock, but there was still plenty of room to walk around the gravel path. Dr. Gilliam would even jog around during the mornings for exercise, and with the sharp drops all around, it was safe enough for anyone to walk around in solitary contemplation even at night.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Kaden Ye hissed.

"Heeey buddy, what's wrong? I'm not doing anything."

"You know these girls are off limits, just keep it in your fucking pants, you fucking dog."

"Whoa there, what's with the hate? Besides… I think Yuri's legal." Einar frowned for a moment. "She *is* legal, right?"

With that height, with the size of those breasts, and all so perfectly shaped? Dayum, it's not possible that she's still got some growing to do. Those legs, they go on forever. The curve of her hips, once she stopped wearing those sinfully short uniform skirts and into jeans. They had a hell of time looking for one that could fit.

Dat girl should be illegal, for sho.

All bitches be complaining, they can't fairly compete with that superior product.

"… Yees, I think so?" Kenan Ye frowned and looked unfocused for a moment. He dimly recalled that Dr. Gilliam needed to build a medical record, and the kids thought they were probably eighteen from their memories. There were some tests that could attempt to tell that, like checking teeth and bone growth.

He flicked his chin around again and snorted "But that's not the fucking problem here."

"Oh you're saying this to me? I've seen the way you look at Natsuk- gahoh!"

Kenan Ye punched his best friend in the face.

Einar bent over clutching his nose. "Da-guhck, man!"

"Imply anything like that again and I'll kick your ass so hard you'll be shitting sneakers for weeks. Natsuki… I dunno." Kenan Ye sighed. "Just looking at her like heals my soul. It's like watching a kitten." He peered past the edge of the gate towards the girls standing near the middle of the fort.

Sayori was giggling with her hand over her mouth. Natsuki was laughing with an open mouth, her unrestrained 'nyahahahah!'

"So cute. It's like having the little sister I never had." Kenan Ye whispered fondly. He clenched his right hand to a fist and raised it. "I will protect that smile foreverrr…!"

"Dude."

"What."

"I can respect that."

"Stop perving so openly, you're disgusting."

Einar shrugged. Yuri was just the most beautiful woman alive in the whole damn state, he couldn't deny that.

-.

"Hello everyone! We're back!" Corporal Vaughan cheerily announced, swinging open the front gate.
Kenan Ye and Einar peered past the inside of the fort to see the soldier walk in, a heavy rucksack of goods on his back. MC and Monika entered behind him.

Since they two friends were not out on scavenging duty today, the three took their turn to run their own outside mission. There were other survivors around, and they went off to visit a pair living in a house just past the village center.

Monika's [Earth] power was great at creating sudden barricades to funnel charging zombies, and MC was not completely useless with machete. Worst comes to worst, Vaughan was armed with an M4 Carbine.

"Oooh, is that fresh bread?!" he excitedly hopped over to inhale the aroma of those still-hot baked goods. "I feel bad for those folks – they were asking if we had food to spare, so we looked around for some food and managed to dig out some biscuits and cans from a trailer park."

"Sounds like something they could have found out themselves if they went out to search," Gilliam noted.

"They were in no shape to go around looking," Vaughan replied. "When we arrived they were even holed up trying to fight off a horde of Plague Zombies. Remember, not everyone can be as… lavishly equipped like us with an Infirmary to manufacture Blood Plague Cures or a stockpile of weapons and equipment, or even just being able to rest easy at night behind walls. They're just two people."

Now that they had settled in, Vaughan recommended making some noise through the airwaves to know if there were other survivors in the valley. The dangers of being found out was not worth giving up the potential for mutually beneficial exchanges. Playing hermit would just leave them ignorant and helpless against suddenly changing circumstances.

Banditry was not very common thing in this world of the dead if simply because there were too few people left to prey upon. Survivors usually had guns, and any conflict could very quickly turn lethal. Yet that threat hung over any meeting with strangers. Every human a competitor in the zero-sum game of diminishing pre-zombification manufactured resources.

"Makes me curious why anyone didn't come up here to use this base before, then."

"Remember this place used to be a tourist campsite. They were trying to move up to where there's less zeds, but at the same time where there's less zeds there's also less resources."

The doctor nodded. "Any problems from their end?"

Now that they had settled in, Vaughan recommended making some noise through the airwaves to know if there were other survivors in the valley. The dangers of being found out was not worth giving up the potential for mutually beneficial exchanges. Playing hermit would just leave them ignorant and helpless against suddenly changing circumstances.

Banditry was not very common thing in this world of the dead simply because there were too few people left to prey upon. Survivors usually had guns, and any conflict could very quickly turn lethal. Yet that threat hung over any meeting with strangers. Every human a competitor in the zero-sum game of diminishing pre-zombification manufactured resources.

MC and Monika approached. As risky as it may be, his [Heart] power and ability to tell if someone was being dishonest was of incredible value in face-to-face encounters. "They're legit. They were just really really hungry. Seems like they lost fuel to their ride and had to walk the rest of the way to town, sneaking past zombies all the way."

Natsuki, Sayori, and Yuri quieted as Monika approached. The two adults could not fail to notice how Monika was somehow always being excluded by the others. But she worked very well with MC, and her quiet but hard-working ways were heavily favored by Vaughan.

She smiled, raised her hands, and backed off. "As long as I get my fair share, it's ok. Chat away, Player – I'll be resting over there for a bit."

-.

"I hate that guy," said Einar as he clung to the corner of the gate, peering inside.

Sayori bounded over to MC, and hugged his right arm and began rubbing her head on his shoulder. With his left hand he stroked at Sayori's hair, and it was almost like they could see an illusion of a wagging tail. She was that happy to see him again even though it was just a few hours since they last were near each other.

Natsuki smirked and brandished her bread stick like it was cutlass. MC said something that made her snort in laughter.

Yuri raised a candy bar.

"I completely understand why you hate that guy," Kaden Ye nodded.

-.
-.
 
1.6 The Plague Heart
-.
-.
"We need allies. The skills and resources they provide are vital to our survival," said Vaughan.

"We need everyone in this town to know we're calling the shots," said Einar.

"Does anybody else think the whole concept of claiming territory a little… aggressive?"

"Hey, that's what it takes out here. Wake up and smell the roses!"

Vaughan blinked. "Excuse me? I've been at the front line since this whole thing started. What have you been doing while I was fighting in Afghanistan? That's the sort of thing that happens out there."

"Yeah, and? I'm not gonna respect you just for that, soldier boy. You know it works. Where's the army now? You know the army's just the same damn thing just a whole lot bigger. People need to know not to fuck with you or the people you care about, or they're just going to keep pulling shit thinking the weaksauce pussy will just keep forgiving them for it! Being the bigger man ain't gonna get you anywhere, you're not going to earn anyone's respect that way."

Vaughan stared at him for half a minute. Then he sighed."… You've seen some shit, haven't you?" He shrugged and dipped his piece of bread into the shared pot of meaty broth. "So did I. The shit people get up to when they feel they can get away with it… and we can't do anything about it, because the rules don't allow interfering with our 'ally's internal affairs.' I can't even really say you're wrong.

"But I'd like to think we can be better than everyone else that just abandoned us when things become inconvenient."

"A lot of people talk though, then pussy out, but a real badass doesn't give up! If you've got turf to defend, then you've got to man up or else get out of town!"

"I think we're getting a little bit off target," Kenan Ye put in. "Let me just get this straight – you BOTH agree that helping our… Neighbors destroy a Plague Heart is a good thing? We're just quibbling over what we get out of it now?"

"Yeah pretty much," said Einar.

"Asking for tribute is just so… feudal," Vaughan replied with a disdainful sniff.

Kenan Ye turned towards the little shit just giggling to himself there. "And what do you think about this?"

"Why is this even a problem?" MC responded with his customary catty grin. "Yes, they probably expect you to go in weapons swinging – and we can't even say they're trying to lead you into a fight hoping you get killed because Plague Zombies are everybody's problem. They acknowledge you're stronger.

"What they don't probably expect is us just setting fire to the whole thing instead of approaching to melee range. [Fire] + [Wind], we're done with it, no one needs to get hurt, no ammo spent."

He jabbed proudly at his own chest like he was a cartoon bear wearing a fire marshal uniform. "We are the only ones that can prevent forest fires." The total pyromaniac.

"That would be extremely foolish, Player," Monika huffed.

"How so? Sayori and Natsuki wouldn't be at much risk." He pointed to Einar "It's good that we have someone know knows automotive repair, so they don't even need to get out of the car. We can just keep it idling and vamoose when we're done."

"You're forgetting the cardinal rule. Pillage, THEN burn."

"Ah."

"That's a good point," Kenan Ye hummed.

"Doing it the hard way's better," Einar added.

"Can't argue with that," Vaughan shrugged. These three men were the ones who would have to do most of the fighting.

Yuri could see how with Monika being so free to just disagree and criticize MC, her value again was rising in the eyes of the adults. She seethed.

Natsuki and Sayori, although they had been volunteered for their powers, didn't even sit with them at the planning table. Yuri knew she had nothing to contribute as well, her mind was not all twisty and ready with the cold calculus of throwing people's lives into battle.

-.
-.

Fhwunk.

Fhwunk.

Fire and Wind. That made sense. One amplifies the other. And Sayori and Natsuki had always gotten along. Ironically no one would ever want to put them at risk – their happiness was the light of this entire community.

Fhwunk.

Monika had proven herself useful. Not just for her power of Earth, but for her mind insightful and keen. While Yuri could accuse Monika of being a conniving witch, she could never really deny that the club president was smart.

Fhwunk.

And what about her, then?

Clean water was useful. Learning about medicine so she could help people. Yes, that was also a valuable skill in these apocalyptic times. So valuable, in fact, that she would never be risked out there.

Their powers could all be massively more potent than just this, she knew. Monika could raise hilltops, she could flood the land. Sayori could call down tornadoes, Natsuki a fire storm. MC and an army of angry bears.

But those powers were loud and flashy and almost pointless in this world of the living dead.

She had nothing to contribute except moral support. If she was just her previous self… she would be content with being a wallflower. Completely uncomfortable with being the focus of attraction. A creepy loner, she was perfectly happy with that. People were so noisy and complicated, only within the pages could they begin to make sense. Their motivations clear, their decisions even when irrational had a basis in their personality.

Rationality was her refuge.

Fhwunk.

Said the girl who went totally bugnuts with lust and desire. She had read about clingy insane stalker girlfriends before, but what she had done went so far beyond insane it rocketed straight into almost eldritch psychosis.

No real conversational skills – she was not like Natsuki or Sayori or even Monika, extroverts, able to speak with other people without feeling that pressure. She only had her opinions on her interests, and within that extremely narrow field of expertise could she feel totally confident of expressing herself.

She was a turtle just wanting to retreat into her shell. She liked to wear turtleneck shirts for good reason.

There was satisfaction in rationality.

There was such empowerment in irrationality.

She still remembered the feeling of making little wounds into her wrists with her knife collection. Relishing the cold feeling of slicing into her skin, then the hotness of pain as blood welled up from the wound. No friends to speak of. She would alternate between blades so none of them would feel lonely.

She still remembered the mad energy of obsession. A girlfriend would angst over being liked by her boyfriend. But she wanted MC with a burning intensity, flooding through her veins. Leaking fluids. Nothing mattered except pressing her flesh to his flesh, loving him so much that she could just cut him open and climb into his skin.

That feeling of wanting to BE with another person was so strong…

So she lashed out.

Fhwunk.

It was still there. The pain of stabbing herself to death as he watched. She laughed as her own knife sank into her insides, into her womb, it hurt. It hurt gloriously. Loving him hurt so much. The feeling of bleeding to death, growing cold. It was so painful it was a relief to finally stop. The pain would be as bad as it could ever get.

Watching his face – terrified, disgusted, bewildered and helpless about why anything was happening, and *exactly* like her, unable to move. Just another puppet.

Her life faded away, the last thing she would ever see was the tears dripping down his face now unable to show even the slightest hint of expression.

That feeling still boiled inside. The obsession. That poisonous hot power.

Monika did more than just amplify her worst traits to make her look unattractive. Monika raped her soul.

Yuri dropped to her knees and screamed.

-.

"Hraaaaaah…!"

She looked up to see zombies attracted by all her noise. Their sightless eyes glowed in the dark. Orange for regular zombies. Burning red for plague zombies. That was fine.

Fhwap.

That acidic power leaped out from her, out from her [Water Ring], and a ribbon of water issued forth. Yuri spun around, lashing the water ribbon out like a whip, and the trailing edge slapped against the oncoming red zombie. The zombie continued to run, and fell apart mid-stride, bisected at the waist.

Yuri flicked her hand up and then down like a dancer, and the water whip followed.

MC had given up so much to give them these [Rings], and since they could not summon a Captain Planet, the power compensated by being able to summon their elements out of nowhere.

Martial art forms and motions directed their power, and also made them less vulnerable even without it. They would not be helpless again.

Fhwap.
Yuri slapped at the incoming zombies with the [Water Slicer] she'd invented. This water cutter could blast out divots even in rock. Zombies were being dismembered right and left, but they knew no fear. They kept on rushing forward, screaming their meaningless cries.

Yuri snarled back with tears in her eyes. Monika was a monster, but she was just known for being a waste. A hideous freak. No more! No more!

Fhwap.

Fhwap.

Fh-

"Hhraaaaak!" Yuri bowled over as a zombie slammed into her from the side. This sort of tunnel vision was the reason why no one was allowed to expedition except in pairs that could watch each other's backs. That cold, stale breath slapped against her cheeks as she fought to keep the zombie from biting her neck open. She gagged from the taste of it.

"Get off me!" she screeched. She pushed it away only to get thrown into the ground by a plague zombie that managed to survive. This one was much more vicious like others of its kind, raking her skin with its fingernails before trying to bite into her neck.

No, no, no…!

Yuri tried to kick it off, but now it straddled her, this sick dead red thing with a bared upper body and ragged pants, in some mockery of a sexual position. Its fingers groped painfully at her flesh as it tried to pull closed to bite and tear.

"[Wa-water!!!]" Yuri screamed. Her ring blasted a column of water out, forcing away the zombie, but only for it to be replaced by three more leaping at her.

Yuri curled into a fetal ball. Zombies clawed at her back and her fingers laced over her neck. Yuri couldn't scream anymore, just whimper.

This was how she died… died again.

So stupid.

Trying to prove herself, and once again failing from trying too hard.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered. "I'm sorry, everyone. I'm sorry!" These things would eat her and she would then become one of them. How pathetic.

It fit her. Her only regret was how seeing her mutilated corpse… again… would make her friends sad.

Zombies swarmed over her, crowding over each other to get at her tender living flesh.

-.

"WHAT THE SHITE ARE YOU DOING YURI?!"

His voice blasted through her mind and out her Ring. Water spurted out of her ring, with such torrentous force that it threw off all the zombies hunched over and scraping at her back.

There was a screeching sound. One of the zombies trying to bite through her forearms was pulled back, something grabbing and pulling at its long hair. There was more screeching sounds, and shrieking, and twitting, and the sounds of many flapping wings.

MC ran down the dirt road leading into the Firewatch camp. Yuri had decided to sneak out and practice so as not to disturb the others, into the three-path crossroads. Viewed from the camp, one goes left and down into town, the right into the campsites, and the one heading up to the firewatch tower.

Yuri felt herself being dragged up. Her sleeves were bloody and torn and her fingers lacerated, but her neck at least remained unwounded.

"Dammit, Yuri!"

Yuri clung to him, mindless with a mix of terror and relief. This was probably a mistake since they were still surrounded by zombies and now he had her weight keeping him from moving around to fight.

But then that was why there were all these birds around, like he was some sort of Disney Princess with her deranged avian army.

The birds – eagles, jays, pigeons, swallows, hawks, and everything else that could fly, swarmed the zombies and pecked, scratched and flapped at their rotting faces and necks. While birds couldn't defeat zombies, they were noisy and massively distracting.

"Yuri, come on! Snap out of it! We need to get out of here, all this noise is going to call in more of these things!"

"I… I need… yes. MC, it's you…. that's right."

Yuri weakly got up to her feet and stumbled. MC supported her by throwing one of her arms over his shoulders and half-dragged her uphill.

The others, woken up by the noise of MC rushing down from the tower and out the camp, came running down as well.

"The fuck is going on here?!" Einar shouted.

"No time to talk, kill zeds!" Kenan Ye yelled.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Vaughan roared. And his rifle flashed brightly in the night. Bang! Bang! Bang! More noise for zombies, but headshots took out the zombies following at the heels of Yuri and MC. "COME ON! GET BACK TO THE BASE!"

Einar rushed down and supported Yuri from the other side. Now he and MC began to run up, Yuri barely able to move her feet fast enough to keep from stumbling. Josefa Gilliam met them by the parking lot entrance.

"I'll handle it from here," she said. Einar nodded and let go. He shifted his baseball bat from his left hand to his right and turned to fight the zombies now attracted to the fort.

"Oh my gosh, Yuri!" Sayori shrieked on seeing her all bloody and wretched.

Yuri gave her a smile that was half a grimace. "I'm all right."

"No you're not!"

Monika walked past her and gestured with her flat palm stabbing up. A slab of earth slid up and blocked the gate.

As always she looked so composed and sure of herself and this time Yuri was just too tired to give a shit.

MC laid her down on the nearby bed. "Flashlight," Dr. Gilliam ordered.

"Oh! Right! Where… where is that?! Wait hang on!" Sayori began rummaging through the shelves.

"[Fire!]" Natsuki yelled out, and a small dancing yellow flame appeared over her ring.

MC brought over a bucket and some clean cloth. He poured clean water from a jug onto the bucket. Dr. Gilliam nodded approvingly, and then began to inspect all over Yuri for wounds. Seeing that her neck and torso didn't seem to have any wounds, she began to cut away torn sleeves from Yuri's arms.

She washed and cleaned the blood away from the ragged gouges and dashed ethanol over the wounds. Yuri winced.

"How is she?" Sayori asked worriedly. Then to Yuri "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine," Yuri breathed heavily. "It's nothing serious."

Dr. Gilliam sighed. "Fortunately, you're right. What happened? A zombie siege… well I suppose it was about time it happened. It's not just noise that attracts zeds, over time we believe they just have a sense for where people are congregating." She began wrapping Yuri's fingers and arms with bandages. "But why were you out there? You should have just woken us up first if you think you saw something strange."

"I'm sorry…"

"Yuri did a dumb," MC sighed. He tapped at his [Heart] ring. "Empath, remember? It's a good thing all those strong emotions woke me up or you would be zombie chow."

Sayori hopped in place like an alarmed rabbit. "What? So you mean… Yuri went out there alone on purpose?!"

Monika leaned against the log wall and sighed, rubbing at her forehead. "Let me guess. She, overcome with her inferiority complex, decided to try something more combative with her magic. Rather than practice safely and during the day, she tried to keep it a secret and work on it at night, all just to avoid having to talk to anyone about it."

"Hey!" Natsuki spat at Monika. "And whose fault is that, huh?!"

"No… no, she's right. I was stupid. I'm sorry."

"You were supposed to be the sensible one, Yuri!" MC cried out. "I trusted you!"

"I'm sorry."

"MC, hey…" Sayori looked taken aback. "I know you're worried and angry, but don't be too harsh, please?"

"You were the Chosen One! You were meant to bring balance back to the Dere, not destroy it!"

"I'm sorr- wait, what?"

Was that a Revenge of the Sith reference?

By the pained look on Monika's face, yes it was and yes she recognized it instantly on the first line, total pathetic westaboo that she is.

Yuri stared up at MC. He looked so worried and so sincere.

And she thought: wait, why do I love this total dork, again?

MC leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Dammit Yuri. You're not alone. Never scare us like that again, okay?"

Yuri blushed. She blinked several times and drooped, hiding her face. "O-okay."

-.
-.
 
1.7 The Plague Heart
-.
-.

"We still doing this? Really?"

Kenan Ye stared at his friend just before entering the car. "Uh, yeah? Of course? What else you wanna do, stay here and lurk around someone's medical bed? She's just not that in to you, man."

Einar sneered back, baring all his upper teeth. "Fuck, man, I don't care about that so much. She's just one of ours, you know? We didn't even know how we were braggin' about taking out so many zeds, we were making her feel useless and shit. She almost offed herself trying."

Yuri was attractive not just because of her vavoom body, but her soft sad expression. She just looked so uniquely vulnerable among the girls. Einar had seen many rich bitches and skanks using their beauty to get their way, he never had a chance with any of them either. His own mother was drunk and a fat screaming harridan.

Finding out that Yuri was crazy enough to try to fight zombies by herself with no weapons other than her magic, whatever nurturing vibes he was getting he was rudely shocked into the realization that - just like how he hated women who displayed themselves as a sex object to get ahead in life - Yuri had no intention of taking the easy way out either.

He respected the hell out of that, and added more to his feeling like scum.

"She's a kid. She may be eighteen, but she's clearly haven't seen anything like this fucked-up world. She's still innocent. They're all innocent." Kenan Ye slapped at the metal roof of the car. "And that's why it's our job to keep them safe, so come on."

The very same fragility that he liked was a deadly personality flaw also. He had zero fucking idea how to help with that. He was just some fucking trailer trash, what the fuck did he even think could happen? Of course she avoided talking to him – she was creeped out by him, and he had nothing interesting in him to talk to her about anyway.

Fuck, now he was getting depressed.

He just wanted to feel like a hero protecting the fair maiden, what's so wrong about that?

"You guys ok?" asked Rasheed Vaughan at the driver's seat. Full Pint called shotgun so Einar had to ride in the back. "I know you're worried and all, but the sooner we get this done, the sooner we get back."

Einar clenched his fists and roared bullishly "Yeah, let's do this. Motherfucking zombies. Kill 'em all!"

-.

-.



"How do you feel?" Dr. Gilliam asked.

Yuri flexed her fingers a little. They still stung a bit. She sighed softly. This would set her back for days, she wouldn't be able to help with any fine work in the Infirmary or any heavy work around the camp. She could hold things well enough, just not anything that would open the wounds. "I'm all right."

"Mmm. Yuri, look at me."

The girl looked up as the doctor sat on the edge of her bed.

"I'm a doctor. I'd like to think I understand what you feel. As a woman and as an army medic, I can only stand by and wait. The only time I can help is when people are hurt, and many times I wish it was best when I'm not in a position to be useful at all. If I can help stop people from hurting and dying, wouldn't it be for the best?"

Yuri nodded. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to imply that I don't value how you're trying to help. I'm really grateful about how you're teaching me, and I don't want to stop this too. It's just…" The girl raised her right hand and twitched her index finger. Her [Water Ring] sparkled. "I feel like I could do more. It's not fair if the only thing I can do is to be protected."

"Yuri, oh sweet girl… if you really want to feel like you can protect yourself, there is a way. Look at me. Seriously, look at me. I've seen the worst that could happen to a person in this world. Zombies don't feel pain, they don't feel fear, they don't ever stop."

She smiled gently and shook her head. "But there is a way for a woman to defeat any man no matter how strong or fierce."

Yuri raised and waited for hard-earned words of wisdom.

"It's called a gun."

Yuri stared straight at the doctor, who grinned back. Her teeth looked far too bright against her dark skin.

Yuri groaned and palmed her face. A part of her had always been a little arrogant, a bit pompously proud at being so well-read and consider herself superior to her peers. The only threat to her intellectual position was Monika.

"I am so dumb…!" she moaned. "Why did I forget that? I'm sorry, I was arrogant and dismissive of you, ma'am."

Of course an Army Doctor wouldn't be useless in a fight. All Yuri had to do was ask. There were many more situations in which using her magic would be counter-productive, specially in the presence of strangers. She would be much more helpful if she just knew how to shoot.

Obviously, the woman already a year veteran in the strongest selection pressures for humanity, would know how to meaningfully contribute to survival at all levels.

No one still alive at this point should be presumed to be helpless.

"Tunnel vision, I suppose. I'm not offended, this happens very often. You were provided with this tool, and then when confronted with a problem naturally a person's mind tries to use the tool at hand to solve that problem. You are a powerful young woman, but don't forget that as a human beings we are all about exploring many different solutions to our problems."

Yuri laughed weakly. Right. As human beings. She had never doubted that about herself; if she cut herself, did she not bleed? If you tickle her, would she not laugh? And if you scorn her, would she not cry? But Descartes was wrong, she thought: 'What I am made to think is what I am.'

Suddenly a blue jay flew in to land on her lap. The bird, with its deep blue and bright blue feathers alternating with bands of white and black was almost like a stained glass painting in motion. These birds migrating to Washington state marked that it was near fall. It stared at her with watery eyes and gave an inquisitive "Querp?"

The bird sat down on her lap like a cat, though still alertly flicking its head from side to side, a careful instinct that could not be suppressed.

"… MC?" Yuri whispered.

"Ka-wheep," the bird tweeted back.

"Oh wow. That's amazing, I forgot that he could do that. Talking to animals… that's a pretty strong power, isn't it?" the doctor mused. Her eyes crinkled up in delight as the bird quivered in place and then snuggled in.

Yuri hesitantly extended a finger, and the bird fearlessly leaned into her touch.

"Oh my god that's so cute I'm dying," Josefa Gilliam giggled.

-.
-.


Timara McNamara was a tanned young woman with punk aesthetics, wearing a studded leather jacket like it ran right out the set of Mad Max or Fist of the North Star. It belied an orderly soul, whose job before this whole armageddon happened was a User Experience Designer.

She liked strongly contrasting experiences, work in the office and on the field about making things softer, easier, more pleasant for people – and her hobby being roller derby, a sport sometimes referred to as 'full contact hockey for non-wimps'.

Her companion, Cecil Purnell was a lumberjack who lived and worked in Providence Ridge all his life. His square face looked perpetually sad, like a pug.

"You sure about this?" he asked her. "We don't know these people. Trying to kill a Plague Heart's not easy, not easy at all."

"That guy looked Army. They got guns. Sounds like they're up to it. We can't survive for much longer with just the two of us – we need friends, fast!" She swept her hand around. "We can't stay here. This place has a nice view, but these big-ass windows can't keep any zoms out."

"You're the boss," Cecil smiled sadly. "But in that case, you know - why not just let me do it?"

"I need to make them see I can pull my own weight. I need this, my dude!"

"I-if you say so. I'm just worried. I made some extra soda can bombs, don't hold back, just throw 'em when you see the heart. Don't try to save 'em, save yourself first."

"I'll be fine." Timara grinned widely and clapped at either side of Cecil's face. "Take care of yourself while I'm gone."

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye on our stuff… shitty little pile that it is. YOU take more care of yourself." Cecil sighed heavily. "I just don't know what I'll do if you're gone…"

-.

Soon enough they heard the sound of an incoming vehicle. Timara was even more impressed. Sure, there were a lot of unused cars around, and there was plenty of leftover gas to find. But you needed to be a special type of badass to roll around on wheels, because all that noise would drag zombies.

They looked outside to see a brown Pilato CR minivan pull in, crashing and pulping zombies in the way. The passengers piled out running and swinging to take out the rest of the zombies.

Timara gave Cecil one last hug and went over to greet their guests.

She found them arguing with an owl, for some reason. There were three guys, the black military guy in army camo fatigues with a rifle slung over his shoulder, a white guy with a tall nose and cheekbones, and an Asian guy with a tasteful denim jacket and jeans.

The barn owl on top of the car made an extended 'Hoooooooooooo' sound and moved in place in a circle.

"Okay. One word. Circle? Stay? Solitary? No?"

'Hoooooooo,' the owl hooted blandly.

"Singular. Staying…? Remaining? Hovering? Rotating… no, that sound… ah! Droning! Drone!" The asian-looking dude pointed at the owl. "Drone, you mean it's no worse than using drones!"

"I still object to this breach of my fucking privacy," said the white dude. "Are you just listening to everything I'm talking about?"

The owl turned to him and clicked its beak. 'Preck.'

"Ah, Miss McNamara!" the army dude greeted her brightly with a wave. The owl looked surprised, but oddly still didn't fly away. "How ya doing? Ready for the mission?"

"Oh, three of you…" Timara said as she approached. "Your group must be bigger than I thought. And yeah, I'm up to it… if you'll let me tag along."

"The more the merrier!" He turned to his cohorts and they all made introductions.

"Just don't get in our way," Einar sniffed. He opened the rear left side door to the minivan, but then the owl flapped its wings in his face and he yelped back in reflex. The bird hopped down to the ground, then again into the vehicle.

It perched upon the headrest of the rear seats, and quirked its head at them. 'Hoo?'

"All right, people. Let's roll out!" said Vaughan.

Timara entered the Pilato CR from the opposite side. Einar was already inside, slouching moodily. The owl spun its head from side to side.

"Um… what's with the bird?" Tamara had to ask. "It's… it's tame, right? Is it a pet or something?"

"Consider it like a good luck charm," Vaughan answered.

"It's fucking big brother bullshit, that's what it is," Einar growled and slouched deeper into his seat.

"Animal Farm," Kenan Ye retorted. "Animal Farm."

As the vehicle rolled out, Tamara had no idea what communism had anything to do with this thing and she deeply hoped she wasn't making a mistake trying to tie her group into these galoots.

Maybe he meant Animal House?

The one with "Toooga! Tooga! Toooga!", were fraternities like that still a thing?

She felt she should have asked, but the opportune moment for conversation had passed and the Plague Heart was in a rustic house on a hill less than a five minute drive down the road.

Tch.

Timara resolved to just ignore whatever weirdness - because really, in these times who didn't have their odd quirks? - and simply focus on giving a strong first impression.

-.
-.

The gate opened, and the rest of the doki dokis walked in. MC and Monika carried what looked like a metal clothes-drying pole, while Natsuki and Sayori each carried a bouquet of yellow and blue flowers like you would bring to a hospital visit.

"Did you go off to pick flowers?" Dr. Gilliam gasped. "That's too dangerous!"

"It is significantly less dangerous when woodpeckers are proving to the world that zombies can't climb trees for shite," MC replied. He sidled over to Yuri, and the doctor moved back with a nod to give them space to talk. "How are you doing?"

"I'm… fine? I guess."

"Cool." He set down the pole nearby. The blue jay flew off from Yuri's lap to land on the pole. It was joined by three other jays.

Monika moved aside to lean against the wooden posts with her arms crossed over her chest. Yuri narrowed her eyes. How does she do that? Whenever she separates herself, she comes off as an unapproachable loner - but when Monika does it, she stands cool and aloof like some sort of lone ranger.

A bird whistled out the first notes of 'The Good the Bad and the Ugly'. Whaa-waa-waaah!

Yuri scowled at it accusingly. It hid its face under its wing bashfully, and then she remembered that it was MC's power that was lending these birds their apparent intelligence. She pouted softly at him, giving off an injured air.

He coughed into his fist and looked away. "All right guys, sound test. One. Two. Three."

Chiiii~

Kwiiii~

Twiiii~

Kweh~


"Wait hang on -" Dr. Gilliam waved her hand for attention. "I know the explanation is probably 'it's magic, I ain't gotta explain shit', is the power of 'talking to animals' a literal one? Birds like this surely don't have the brain size to recognize complex instructions."

"Blue jays are part of the corvidae family, they're related to crows. They're pretty smart as far as birds go," MC replied.

Oh! Yuri's expression fluttered. She liked how MC didn't mind her creepy habits… at least at first, before Monika dialed her mental complexes up to 11… but in this synthesis she recognized that she was also strongly attracted to displays of intelligence and being well-read.

He shrugged and turned to the quartet of jays. "But you're right. How does Aquaman command masses of shrimp if he needs to? Sometimes like that, we just have to assume some sort of distributed intelligence is in play."

The birds began to tweet out a tune.

Twee~! Tweet!

Tweet-chirp! Tweet tweet tweet!

Tweet tweet! Chirp!


"Nice, that works." Blue jays could imitate an extensive range of sounds, from the calls of other birds to even sounds of machinery and cell phones.

Monika jerked upright, startled. Her expression slowly melted into horrified disbelief. "Wait, Player… I recognize that arrangement! This is how you show support to Yuri?"

"Oooh! So this is what you were working on!" Sayori squealed and raised a fist high. "Come on birdies, let's go party!"

Tweet!

Tweet!

Chirp.

Kweh.


Yuri stared at MC's far too smug face. "You're showing off. This… this is really impressive, MC. I appreciate all that you're all doing to make me feel better -

"But I find myself thinking, do you mean something else from this?" She turned away and twiddled her thumbs, ignoring the little twinges of pain. "Are you trying to say… that it's ok to use our power as much as we want?"

Intuitively she believed, don't people despite braggarts?

She glanced past MC towards Dr. Gilliam, and the black woman threw up her palms as if saying 'Ohh no no, don't drag me into this, girl!'

MC sat down on the side of her bed. "Yes. Why do you think I am upset with you?"

"Isn't it because I foolishly overestimated myself and near gotten myself killed?"

"Haha, no. Almost getting yourself killed, yes. The rest of it… meh."

Yuri stared at his face. His messy black hair, his limpid pale brown eyes, gentle with concern. She thought for a moment, that not just a few monsters of history had such eyes. The first thing they needed to do was to convince you that they cared. That their way was the only way.

"Yuri?

"Please do not be too kind to me," Yuri breathed and looked away sadly. "I know what I did wrong. I don't deserve this." Sometimes kindness hurt more than rejection. The more they tried to make her feel valued, the more she would feel it was unearned. "Don't… don't lie to my face, please."

The tune began to speed up.

Tweet tweet tweet, tweet tweet! A speedy, blood-pumping defiant tune.

"Others might say that you don't need to become violent to contribute… that you don't have anything to prove. You're helping just by being who you are." He chuckled darkly. "And I say, nuts to that!"

"… what."

"I am angry at you not because you almost got yourself killed trying to foolishly prove yourself, but because you tried to do it… alone! If you need to punch face to feel better about yourself, then that's fine with me too! Whatever you want, I will support you!"

"Eheheh!" Natsuki grinned and put her hands to her hips. "Badass doesn't care if you're cute!"

No one would want Natsuki to ever risk herself, they would die before letting that happen. But even as cute and lovable as she was, this pinkette would never be ashamed of admitting to wanting to blow shit up and no one would dare tell her it was improper. Magical girls were a noble tradition.

Yuri winced. That was still her own damn fault. Like always she was just overthinking things again. A gloomy self-absorbed young lady, that's what she was.

MC put both hands on Yuri's shoulders and faced her squarely. He began to shake her slightly back to attention in the present. "What in the world made you think I would give a shit about traditional gender roles in this degenerate zombie apocalypse? I already know you're a weirdo, but honestly boys like weirdos, and you're MY weird girl, and if we can live with Monika than sure as hell we can love you for everything you are including your flaws."

He pulled closer to Yuri and pressed their foreheads together. His insistent breath was hot against her lips. "If you want to use your power to more violent means, then I have only one thing to say…"

"Player, please don't…!" Monika whimpered behind him.

"Rip and tear," He pecked at her lips with chase little kiss. "Until it is done."

Then he pulled away.

The birds went into full tempo, and the popular conception of utilizing birdsong was in lilting melodies in Disney musicals. This sounded more like hard rock or something. Quite unique, and Yuri cherished how MC dared to be unconventional. He held a certain courage, that uncompromising self-expression, shining so brightly that maybe she could have something like that too.

Yuri stared at him with a heavy-lidded unimpressed gaze.

Then she grabbed at his collar and dragged him down to slam her mouth into his. She nibbled at his lips and groaned.

Fine! You want to get nuts?! Let's get nuts!

Sayori clapped her hands. "Yaaay!" She had zero jealousy here. Her friends were getting along, they were less self-destructively insane… she was less self-destructively insane… okay, the world was full of flesh-eating zombies and they're running out of manufactured goods and winter was coming, but all things considered – things were going great!

Sayori began bouncing in place to the beat, while Natsuki just watched fascinatedly the pair of birds also jumping in place as they changed notes. Small birds had that way of moving as if in between frames of a camera. The birds alternated singing in full stereo sound, as if dueling music instruments.

Tweet tweet tweet twee-weheet!

Tweet tweet tweet!


Faster and faster!

Tweet tweet tweet twee-weheet!

Tweet tweet tweet!


"Pretty cool," Natsuki nodded.

"They don't know…" Monika moaned while kneeling ORZ down on the ground. "They just don't knooow…"

-.
-.
 
1.8 The Plague Heart
-.
-.

Rasheed Vaughan rubbed at his strong but clean-shaven chin and hummed. "I've seen plague zombies before, but I've never seen a Plague Heart."

"Well, you're going to see one now. We still don't know if Plague Hearts call Plague Zombies or make 'em, but there you go," Timara McNamara waved towards a nice house on the hill fronting the mountain highway. Its back yard was set against but a tall rocky cliff face. It was a blue bungalow with an attic, with a bright red front door behind a brick balcony.

Einar House grimaced. "I don't know what that means but that shit looks NASTY."

The house was covered with an eerie red mist. It was almost viscous, with ribbons of thick particulates floating in the air, this field of red smoke and fog made it seem almost underwater.

"Maybe we should have brought face masks for this," said Kaden Ye. "I don't feel good about the potential viral load breathing in that stuff."

They had already taken out all nearby random roaming zombies to prevent a horde forming up if there was a screamer inside. They were taking cover behind the utility minivan in the middle of the road, planning their assault.

Plague zombies milled around outside, moaning and hissing on occasion. Where normal zombies had this hoarse throaty groan, red plague zombies had a more high-pitched animal screech. It was almost like they were more alive.

Timara shrugged. "You know where to get any more N95 rated masks?" She paused. "Well actually I do, there's a lot you might find down the road at the lumber yards, but it's not worth fighting even more zombies just to get them. As long as you don't get bit, you should be okay."

"Have you fought Plague Hearts before, Miss McNamara?" asked Vaughan.

"Yeah, was part of a group for a while that went around clearing infestations. Like infestation if you leave them alone for too long you start to get Ferals and Bloaters and other weird mutant zombies. Juggernauts are bad enough, nothing can get worse than an aggressive Blood Juggernaut doesn't care about being shot in the head!"

Her voice broke a little at the end there, and she anxiously rolled her grip on her weapon. That was probably the reason her previous group ended.

"Hey Army man," Einar crowed. "You sure the Army didn't know about this? Sounds incompetent to me."

"Well you have to remember they were a refugee camp," Kedan Ye put in. "It's not really something guards and civilians need to know."

"No, he's right. We were conducting research on the Plague Cure. I don't know why I was never informed, but the higher-ups likely knew about this. Maybe it's for reasons of morale, I was never part of any efforts to clear Plague Hearts."

He sighed softly. Silently he wondered if this influenced their decision to just leave. Even if they cleared this Plague Heart, would it be unsustainable in the long run? Would infestations over time mutate into Plague Hearts?

"Huh. Is this why Red Talon is called that?" Timara mused. "Red like blood?"

Einar groaned. "Whatever. We doing this?"

Kedan Ye began covering his face with a large handkerchief as a facemask. He looked like an old-timey bandit. Realizing the looks he was getting, he gave them back a bland "What?"

"Well it's better than trying to hold our breath. Better to be sure, I guess…" Vaughan mused.

"You shouldn't wear clothes that zombies can grab on and drag you down," Timara demurred. "But if it works for you, that's ok I guess."

Kedan Ye thought about it. "Fair point. I'll take my chances."

"Kwek?"

Timara felt a weight settle on her shoulders. The owl clung to her backpack, and the young woman winced, imagining how its wicked talons were ripping its relatively thin layers of polyester open. Fortunately her backpack was a mountaineering type with a metal frame for support and rigidity. She tried to turn around to look, but the owl leaned to meet her halfway and rubbed its head against her cheeks like a cat. Its feathers were so soft and fluffy!

The owl let out a crooning little hoot, and spread its wings out with stately arrogance. Timara saw the reflection on the car window glass and thought: yeah, okay. We're going full Roman here apparently.

Whatever. That's fine.

"Hooo!" the owl hooted.

"Let's go!" Vaughan raised his rifle and led the charge, foregoing melee.

-.



The four-man assault paused at the front door and counted down. Three. Two. One.


Break!

Vaughan kicked open the door. The pair of blood zombies inside, one that had once been a tall and thin man and the other a fat slab of a landwhale whirled about with an excited hiss. But - bambam! bambam! – Vaughan double-tapped them right in the brains.

The noise of gunfire was answered by a gutteral roar from the other rooms, and plague zombies began to pour out.

Vaughan began to shoot without aiming, just at head level hoping to plug the incoming wall of screaming teeth, rags, and red flesh. "Here we goooo…!" Kenan Ye bellowed happily as he and Einar rushed forward to meet the zombie clump.

And then there was only time for swinging, pushing, shoving, grunting and screaming.

Einar and Kedan Ye knew better than to fight a zombie crowd weight for weight. The struck at heads, knocking the front line back, and the back line of zombies would recklessly try to grab and attack whatever triggered their mindless senses. Zombies that were pulled to the ground, Timara and Vaughan smashed their skulls in to take them out of the fight.

It was less then five minutes and felt like five hours, and next thing Timara knew they had carpeted the old living room anew in broken zombie corpses.

"Hokay…!" Kedan Ye wheezed. "Where's the thing?"

"Right. Uh…" Timara pulled her machete out of a zombie's eye socket with a wet squelch and took deep exhausted breaths as well before moving. She got up and sneaked peeks from room to room and then recoiled at the bathroom door. "It's over here!"

"Right, what does it look like – OH SHIT THAT'S NASTY!" Einar hissed on the approached.

Seemingly webbed into the corner wall of the bathroom was a gross assembly of human torsos and skulls, exposed ribcages and pulsating cancerous flesh. Then one might realize that that 'web' shape was formed of a crown of arm and leg bones protruding outwards of the main lump, threaded and tied together by flaps of stinking meat.

The insides were murky. It was almost like a grotesque shrine, or a live furnace. The Plague Heart pulsated and glowed bright blistering red from within bulbous growths, thrumming a regular rumble almost like a heartbeat. Wisps of red drifted out of the nest of gore, almost as if it was breathing in normal air and exhaling deathly clouds.

The owl on her back screeched angrily at the Plague Heart disgusting lump of flesh and bone. The Plague Heart let out a bassy rumble, almost as if in answer.

Timara took out her improvised explosive cans. She saw Vaughan take out an actual fucking grenade, these rich fuckers, and lowered his head towards her. She nodded back in return.

They braced against the sides of the open door while the others went into cover well away into the living room and - Three. Two. One.

The tossed their explosives at the Plague Heart.

Less than a second later, a pair of ragged booms and flames and shrapnel erupted in the room. And more than that, a viscous cloud of dense red fog billowed out – and a thunderous roar of agony.

"Shit that's loud!" Kedan Ye shouted while pressing his palms over his ears. "Louder than a Screamer!"

"We've got incoming!" Einar screeched. Plague Zombies soon after were crawling through the windows.

"Fuck! Where are they even coming from?!"

"Keep going!" Vaughan shouted at Timara. He tossed her a brace of more improvised bombs. "We'll keep em off you!"

Timara blinked. "Um. Sure."

She watched Vaughan leap to join his fellows with an ululating war cry. Kedan Ye paused for a moment to give the soldier a thumbs-up. "Lucy Lawless? Nice!"
Timara primed more soda can bombs and tossed them in. Ka-BANG! Ka-BANG! Ka-BANG!

The Plague Heart, lacking anything identifiable as a throat or even lungs, screamed some more like a desperate animal.

It wasn't enough. Timara inhaled deeply, held her breath, and whirled around the corner into the room with her machete held high.

She hacked and chopped and was met with an explosion of extremely infelicitous moist blood mist as the Plague Heart bled. Lacking any limbs, to turn its attackers into more Plague Zombies was its only last-ditch defense. She gagged at the bitter taste of it.

The Plague Zombies screamed and scrambled to bite and gouge with feverish strength. Kedan Ye was forced to the ground, and clutched at a zombie's head and its snapping jaws trying to chew his neck open. Einar couldn't help. He had his own problems being grappled by two zombies at once.

Vaughan screamed as he beat the hell out of zombie heads with his metal truncheon, slowly falling back as more zombies crawled through broken windows and the open front door.

And then suddenly – everything stopped.

All the zombies suddenly fell down completely lifeless.

The three men froze in their positions, breathing heavily, eyes popping in confusion and bewilderment. Kedan Ye slowly got back to his feet.

"What the shit just happened?"

-.

Timara staggered out. "P-plague Heart's dead," she huffed. "Come take a look."

The men gathered to look. The Plague Heart had turned gray, not like bone but more like white charcoal. Kenan Ye scratched at it, and his fingernails left deep furrows. It was like caked dust and ash.
"
It… takes a lot to burn bone in a crematorium, I know…" he mused. "What the hell is this?"

"Wait, more importantly – did all the Plague Zombies just DIE when the Plague Heart got destroyed?"

Timara slumped down by the wall, exhausted. "Yeah. That happens."

"Yeah that sounds a little too scifi," Kedan Ye said with a small laugh. Then his eyes narrowed. "Are zombies… aliens?"

Timara looked at him like he was crazy.

Vaughan continued with an excited grin "That's amazing! If it's like this… that makes sense now! Plague zombies are a lot more dangerous, but they have a unique vulnerability normal zombies don't have. Now I understand why the Army might decide it wouldn't be worth it to clear Plague Hearts."

"Uh what? Doesn't it make more fucking sense to clear Plague Hearts before they become a worse problem?" Einar replied.

Kedan Ye furrowed his brows. And then after a while, his expression brightened. "Ah! I get it! It makes more sense to want to transform all zombies into plague zombies now!"

Vaughan nodded. "Because shooting millions of zombies is a waste of ammunition. But Plague Hearts… now they can be removed with firebombs. Cities could be eventually be reclaimed if destroying plague hearts also destroys all zombies connected to them."

Einar grimaced. "So you think that's why the Army ran away? Just wait to let all zombies turn into plague zombies?"

"It's a theory," Vaughan shrugged.

"Sucks for everybody left behind though," Kedan Ye added.

"Fuckers," Einar hissed.

Timara wheezed again and pointed. "There's more reasons to destroy Plague Hearts. Break it open and see."

Kedan Ye pushed a little harder, and it did not take much effort at all for the petrified Plague Heart to just collapse into loose ash. He wiped off the dust heap and found at the bottom of the heart…

Several guns, bladed weapons and ammunition. Food and medicine inside a backpack.

"Wait a second…!" he squeaked. "This is survivor gear!"

"Why is that there?" Einar asked. "Don't tell me it's like a fucking lootbox."

"It means Plague Hearts are made from survivors! People like us who were immune to the first wave of whatever fucking virus made all of the zeds!"

Vaughan scowled. "That… okay, it has been mentioned that mindless things like ants are capable of some sophisticated behaviors. But if it needs survivors to make a new Plague Heart, that means people left behind really must die off for new Plague Hearts to appear. I am no longer so comfortable, feeling that all those refugees who left with the trucks will be *safe*."

They sounded really concerned about it. Timara laughed lightly and closed her eyes. Normal people had a hard enough time surviving, only once your basic needs were secure could anyone start to worry about larger principles. What was up with these people?

They sounded a strange mix of naïve and veteran. No one who has survived a year of this hell on Earth had no right to still sound so responsible like that.

"Hey, what happened to the bird?" Timara suddenly remembered.

She looked around, and saw the owl on the ground – stiff in death. The miasma from the Plague Heart had poisoned it. "Oh. That's sad…"

The others didn't even seem to care. Wasn't it their pet? They were inspecting the loot, which consisted of a shotgun and two bolt action hunting rifles, and a weed whacker blade.

They looked displeased. Most people would be happy to get more weapons, but maybe they had higher standards?

"These long rifles are too heavy for the kids," Kaden Ye said after a while. "And we don't have enough ammo for them anyway."

"Well, it's not like we're the ones that finished off the Plague Heart," said Einar. He pointed to Timara sitting sprawled there. "Hey, you want shotgun or hunting rifle?" he asked, holding up a gun in each hand.

Timara shook her head. "Too noisy, too slow to reload," she said about the shotgun. "Waste of ammo sniping zombies, same problem close in," about the bolt action hunting rifle. "I'd rather run away than make noise. But there's an Army and Navy Outfiteers cross the street near the camp grounds, might be plenty of ammo for hunters if you want."

"Yeah, I noticed that," Einar mentioned idly. "Made a note next on the salvage run."

"Thanks. We appreciate how you're being so helpful," said Vaughan.

A white pigeon flew through the open bathroom window. It landed near the dead owl and bobbed its head as if bowing in respect to it. Then it faced her squarely, staring at her with large wet eyes that seemed oddly intense.

Plague Hearts were literal gruesome horror pieces, but none of them were as creeped her out as much as this single bird in an old bathroom with beams of the afternoon sun shining over it. It began to walk slowly and deliberately towards her and Timara grimaced. She began to half sit up, unknowing if she should attack or flee.

And then Vaughan turned, happened to see the pigeon stalking Timara with all the languorous arrogance of a Bengal tiger and instantly realized what was happening. He said "Hey, MC. Did you see what happened?"

The pigeon quirked its head towards him. It nodded.

"Yeah, we're done here."

The pigeon flapped its wings once and bowed like a courtier. It bobbed its head towards Timara one last time, and then flew up and away.

"What the hell was that?" Timara breathed. "Can you talk to animals?" she asked Vaughan.

For some reason that sent all three men laughing as if she said the most hilarious thing.

-.
-.

"So you're saying there's MORE of these Plague Hearts?" Vaughan groaned.

Timara laughed weakly. "Believe me, other towns are WORSE." They had driven back to her home in with the nice view. She paused, holding onto the top of the minivan. "Listen, you guys really proved yourselves out there. I think we could do a lot of good together."

"I think that too!" Vaughan beamed.

Timara's fingers traced circles on the metal roof. "Soo… do you think we could go meet with your group? There's things we could talk about, going forward."


"Oh, that would be great." Vaughan's face fell a bit. "But not now, unfortunately. We need to report this in to the rest. We also have to talk about some things first too."

Timara smiled, hiding her disappointment. "I don't mean to make demands. Just radio me when you're ready."

"Having more friends is always good. Don't worry."

-.
-.

"We're back!" Vaughan shouted loudly by the gate.

"We got more goodies!" Einar added. "I bring guns to trade for food! Guns for food! Bullets for water!"

"We're going full Mad Max over here," Kedan Ye added with a pint.

"Welcome home, everyone!" Sayori greeted back with all her bubbly cheer. She approached carrying three towels to wipe their sweat with, and beside her Yuri was funneling freshcool clean water into three mugs. "I hope no one's hurt?"

Home. Ouch. That actually brought a pang to their hearts, because it felt like one. It was almost sad how quickly they grew so dependent. But a home was more than a place, it was made of people, and it had been far, far too long since they had been made to feel so welcomed.

They were the ones that allowed these kids to join their group, but it was their innocence and reckless optimism and trust in their capabilities that made it a home. It was their happiness that made life worth living again.

Vaughan was not dumb. He realized that Timara was angling to join the group. But it wasn't just his decision to make. He had no right to risk everyone's lives on a gamble.

He looked past the girls to see MC sitting by the fire pit, a goshawk dutifully perched on the wooden bench facing him. The kid's gentle smile was like that of a conspirator that had finally seen their schemes bear fruit.

Yeah that was a really punchable face, Vaughan had to admit. He liked the kid, but some nice people just had a resting smug bitch face like that.

-.
-.
 
1.9 By Your Powers Combined
-.
-.

"So, that's what happened," Vaughan finished his report to Dr. Gilliam and MC.

"Disturbing…!" murmured the army doctor.

The community council consisted mainly of the adults and MC. The girls were uninterested in taking part in the discussion, just sitting nearby to listen in. Einar was not by default classified among the adults.

Now that they had more guns, there was the question if it was worth teaching the girls to use them. Bolt-action hunting rifles were best used from a distance, and were easy to use even for girls without much weight on them when firing prone in defense. Shotguns were great up close and firing through mesh opening in the wall, but care must be taken to avoid friendly fire when in direct combat with zeds. Einar showed off the (unloaded for safety) new guns to the girls, and Natsuki was not allowed to be too excited about the shotgun.

Kaden Ye had more urgent concerns. He raised his hand and asked MC "So did you get to see that? Can you really see and hear through your animals? I don't remember this sort of total animal telepathy from the show."

"Are you warging?" Vaughan asked excitedly.

"Man, you are just one big-ass nerd soldier, aren't you?" said Kedan Ye with a 'heh'.

"Says the man who recognized the reference!" Vaughan shot back good-naturedly.

"Is this really something we should concern ourselves with right now?" the teenager asked. "You guys have to be congratulated about at least buying us more time from the ever-growing zombie threat."

"These are important questions for debate reasons and you will answer them," Vaughan insisted.

"Yeah what are the feats, man. What are the feats?!" Kaden Ye likewise demanded firmly.

"You bunch of shitposters have been away from the internet too long," MC said with a sigh. He supposed that finding the limits of actual superpowers were, understandably, far more interesting than more zombie horrors.

He rubbed at his forehead and added "I'm not a skinchanger. Not in the sense that I stop and go to sleep whenever I take control of an animal. As Dr. Gilliam said, many animals shouldn't even have the intelligence that I could 'talk' to them and follow complex commands. It's more like I overlay my mind over theirs.

"It's like a parallel process, I exist in two places at the same time." Then he scowled and hunched over, lacing his fingers together under his chin. "And that's why the owl I was using for overwatch died at the same time as the Plague Heart was taken down. There was this… I suppose we can call it a psychic feedback that exploded out of control."

He looked up with a hollow, dangerous expression. "The power of [Heart] is magic. Plague Hearts are in some way *alive*." He sucked in air through his mouth in a distressed hiss and added "Zombies are magic."

"Sounds legit," Kedan Ye said dryly.

Vaughan licked his lips. "I… as much as I would prefer this to be something entirely scientific, things are strange enough that I'm willing to consider that as a possibility. If things are this bad with just one Plague Heart… damn, what's going on inside the cities? Are they going to keep mutating to form some form of… Gravemind?"

"So you played Halo too, huh?" Kedan Ye noted.

"Man, *everybody* in the Army played Halo." Vaughan sighed and slumped in his seat. "What a fustercluck. I think I'd have been a lot happier not knowing any of this."

"What does it even fucking matter anyway?" Einar spoke loudly from his spot at the fringe of the group huddle. "All we need to care about is to survive for one more week, and then week after that, and then the week after that. Sounds simple enough, if Plague Hearts are going to make trouble, we just gotta take 'em out as soon as we can!"

Dr. Gilliam laughed, hiding her mouth behind her palm. "Oh you boys are letting your imaginations get away from you. Einar's right. Nothing has changed. We only need to keep in mind the things we can actually accomplish. It's not our job to fix the world."

Kedan Ye froze for a moment. He turned to MC and asked "Is it?"

"Porque no los dos?" MC replied with a shrug.

"That is hopelessly naïve," grunted Vaughan. Then he beamed and raised both thumbs up. "I LIKE IT."

Then his expression grew serious again, and he spoke in that cool gravely voice of his "Which leads us back to the main point of this discussion. Should we accept new people? We can't hide this sort of thing if we do that. But on the other hand, more people would be beneficial to our survival."

He looked at MC and then the girls seated behind him. All of them, no matter their super powers, were just as vulnerable to being shot like anyone. People were the worst danger in the zombie apocalypse.

MC turned around to address them. "What do you think?"

"I'm not afraid," said Natsuki.

"If we can help, then it's okay!" said Sayori. "We can't just hide from things forever."

Monika sighed. "I believe all of this will get out eventually. There's little logic in hiding our light under the bushel."

Yuri licked her lips and looked away.

"Yuri, if you don't agree, it's ok," said MC. "At the very least, we value and want to hear your opinion too."

"Um. Nothing. I was just thinking… that would make it six adults and five of us."

MC raised a quizzical eyebrow. That was… a good thing. Was she reluctant because with more able-bodied adults would mean she would then be less permitted to go out on the field?

Yuri twiddled her thumbs. "I mean… six versus five…"

Natsuki squinted at the tall raven-haired girl, and then choked on a laugh. "Are you… are you talking about votes?!" she hiccuped.

Yuri looked away. "Sorry…"

Kedan Ye laughed openly, slapping at his own knee. "That's just precious. Looks like I wasn't the only one thinking about how you guys have an unfair voting block!" He nodded towards MC. "So this critical single issue it's up to you." He smirked a bit. "Sadly, there's constitutional age limits in qualifying for local government body."

"That's ageism," MC replied with a grin. "I suppose I'm ok for letting in more people."

Vaughan looked up, startled. "That brings up another point. More people means we may need to clear the way our community functions. We will need a leader to drive how this community functions. We have different ideas on how to keep ourselves safe, don't we? I personally believe that only by working with others, in trade and support, can we really establish ourselves."

"I say we go out there and make it clear that we're calling the shots. No one gets to fuck with us," hotly said Einar.

"I nominate myself," said Kedan Ye. "What this place needs is a sense of justice. We can rest easy only when we can be sure that people won't be taken advantage of, we are a community only when we can trust each other. While we clear the land around us and salvage what remains, we should be leaving behind real stability."

"Wow you got guts!" MC whistled.

Kenan Ye gave a sheepish laugh. "Someone has to do it." Then his expression firmed. "We need leadership in order to progress. I would like if it was me, I really do have a serious plan all about for how we can move forward, but I won't object to anyone else being voted into position."

Then he raised his thumb up and gave a beaming grin. "But a Vote for Me is a Vote for JUSTICE."

"… I really respect how you can say things like that with a straight face." Then he shrugged. "Pardon, but all this time I thought we already had settled this leadership issue."

"How so?"

"Well… from what I was told, you both-" he pointed at Kedan Ye and Einar "only got into this group because Corporal Vaughan-" he hooked his thumb over to the man "told you about this safe spot and let you tag along since you needed the plague cure. But he only stayed behind because…" He gestured with both hands to the lady doctor "Doc Gilliam here wanted to stay behind for a while longer. And I think medical command has a higher rank anyway?"

The Doctor raised both hands in a warding position "I don't appreciate being in a default position of leadership. I would prefer it if we arrived at this through consensus."

"Well you've got my vote. And I think Rasheed would vote your way anyway, so…"

Dr. Gilliam's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Is this because of my age?" She was indeed the oldest one there, and people listened to her as a natural authority.

"Ahahah… On second thought-"

"Good!" Dr. Gilliam sniffed. "My first proposal is to table ageism in this community's election policy!"

Kedan Ye laughed again. "Big chair's open. How about you? What's your platform, kid?"

MC sniffed haughtily. "Well if you're willing to listen for a while to this probably divinely mandated, potentially hyperintelligent government experiment, likely product of alien shenanigans-"

"Whoo boy you got a swell head on ya!" hooted Einar.

"Divinely mandated?" Kedan Ye echoed.

MC raised his hand to show off his [Heart] Ring of Power. "Fucking magic, man."

"Fair."

"Potentially hyperintelligent government experiment, tell me about that," said Vaughan.

"Apart from being, uh, *actual telepaths*, it might be that the hyperintelligence experiment are these zombies themselves. Plague Hearts and their wide transformative power and my [Heart] power have too much in common for my comfort."

Dr. Gilliam smiled. "I guess that just leaves alien shenanigans-"

Einar pointed. "HAH! I KNEW YOU WERE ALIENS!" He walked towards Kedan Ye and punched his friend in the arm. "You owe me double rations."

"Does it have anything to do with how you feel you have appeared out of nowhere?" she asked.

Kedan Ye grabbed his friend in a headlock and began to playfully punch the back of his head. "Beam us down, Scotty!" Kedan Ye snarked idly.

"About that… there's questions I can't answer, but… this leads back to our need for manpower."

"Why is that?"

MC raised his ring again. "You know the show. By our powers combined, normally that would mean summoning an entity like Captain Planet. But that's not something we can do. I think it's time to show everyone what these rings are really all about."

-.
-.

The girls and MC stood in a circle in the parking lot, their fists raised to the sky.

"[Earth!]" shouted Monika.

"[Fire!]" shouted Natsuki.

"[Wind!]" shouted Sayori.

"[Water!]" shouted Yuri.

"[Heart!]" shouted MC.

Beams of coruscating light shot out of their rings, meeting up in the air about ten feet overhead, forming a brilliant pool of glowing silvery-bright energy.

He shouted – "By our powers combined, break open the way to ANOTHER PLANET!"

The light expanded, and pulled outwards into a ring. There was a sound like shattering glass, and the insides of the ring deepened.

And then it howled.

Freezing winds rushed out of the hole, blowing away loose objects in the camp underneath. White flecks draped over them, the pit fire went out.

The Doki doki girls and MC grimaced and lowered their hands. The glow from their rings faded, and the hole in spacetime slowly contracted and then vanished with a pop.

Sayori sneezed cutely while Monika began to brush away powder from her face and shoulders.

Vaughan reached down and grabbed a fistful of the white stuff. "Is this… snow?"

"We live an abandoned world, a Dead Hell. Beyond that is another Earth abandoned by the gods, a Frozen Hell." MC shook his head and smiled sadly. "Somewhere there is a place where zombies can't follow, there they would freeze uselessly, but it is also a world with a pale sun and starved of resources. Another world where people aren't sure if they would cross the line in the name of survival."

Monika looked at her ring. "Wait, that's why we have this? We can open inter-dimensional portals?"

"They are keyed to each of us. Technically, once we tear open the dimensions, it only needs two people to open the portal again between two worlds. These worlds are keyed to what they need – this world of decay is mine, a dead world that lacks [Heart]."

He pointed towards Natsuki. "The next world is one that lacks warmth, looking again for the [Fire] of hope. A post-apocalyptic world with no way out. A world… over a hundred years behind us, the year is 1886."

"Huh." Kedan Ye rubbed at his chin. He looked to the distance, considering the implications. "That's steam punk era."

MC chuckled. "A frost punk, one might say."

"Aliensss…!" Einar hissed.

"Alternate universe!" Vaughan muttered excitedly. "Time travel?! Awesome!"

And then they all heard the guttural roar of zombies attracted by the noise. They all sighed, and readied their weapons. This was a world where even wonder was dead and slowly rotting.


-.
-.


  • A Dead Hell
  • A Frozen Hell
  • A Dry Hell
  • A Wet Hell
  • A Lost Hell
Rip and tear, until it is done.
 
There are three main qualifiers:

1) it must be a world post-apocalyptic with its populace on the verge of extinction

2) it must be from a game or have a game related to the property

3) it must have something unique to contribute to the interplanetary trade network

and

4) it must suck hard enough for its inhabitants that they would consider literally any other deathworld condition to be paradise in comparison.


I've already made my selections, though Lost Hell is far enough in the future (and is the Monika-centric world) that I'm willing to change my mind about it. I could make Apocrypha posts for interesting other worlds.
 
1.10 By Your Powers Combined
-.
-.

"Hey everyone!" Vaughan announced at the gate. "I brought the neighbors over for a visit!"

"Great! Welcome, everyone!" Dr. Gilliam greeted by the door.

"Hiii!" Sayori waved energetically with her hand high up over her head. The visitors jolted back, not knowing how to deal with the orange-haired girl's excessive good cheer. They hesitantly waved back with their hands more at shoulder level.

Timara McNamara blinked and looked wide-eyed at the insides of the camp. "Wow… your group… it's a lot larger than I thought."

Kedan Ye and Einar were sitting by the garden, crouching and smoking like a pair of gopniks. Corporal Vaughan and Monika were by the radio station. Sayori was with Dr. Gilliam. Yuri stood a little way over, near the ladder leading up to the watchtower. MC sat smiling by the fire pit, surrounded by birds like the fucking Disney Princess he was.

Natsuki approached, grinning and carrying a tray. "I got fresh baked cupcakes! Who wants some!"

"Oh Jesus Christ, it's been ages since I tasted one!" Cecil Purnell hitched his breath. "Y'all are really pulling out all the stops here. I'm impressed." He chuckled softly. "Shouldn't have though, can you really afford to do this?"

Timara elbowed him lightly. "Don't be too ungrateful now. I'd like one, please."

"Here you go! Help yourselves, take as much as you want, hehehee!"

'This is unreal', Timara thought. Then she picked up and nibbled at a cupcake and the sweetness after so long subsisting on whatever they could scrounge up was almost overpowering. No packaged goodie could ever compare with a real baker. Her eyes began to water.

"Timara, you okay?" asked Cecil.

"M'fine. Whoa dish ish really… this is really good." She wiped at the edges of her cheeks.

"Thanks!" Natsuki replied with a happy grin.

"Are you for real?" Timara asked helplessly.

Natsuki scowled. She looked away, troubled. Timara quickly began to stammer out an apology, but Natsuki shook her head. "It's okay. It's just… I dunno." She smiled again, an obviously forced one this time. "Don't mind it, things are going to get more weird before they get better!"

Sayori laughed an overly loud, forced laugh and began slapping the smaller girl's shoulder. "Y-yes that's right, don't mind, don't mind it! Let's all just get to know each other as new friends!"

"Right. Yeah. Friends would be nice."

"Make yourself at home," said Vaughan. "There's a lot we have to talk about."

-.

-.

"It's been a long time. I remember coming here as a kid all the time, climbing this tower every summer," said Cecil while looking up at the watchtower. The square-jawed lumberjack sighed. "Closest thing we got to a castle's tower… now that this place has walls to make that happen, makes me feel like a kid again.

"But even if you could stand high over everything, all that means if that you get to starve to death while a sea of zombies are millin' about below."

"This is a pretty impressive setup you got here, no mistake!" Timara added. "We mean that it's also great that you're being proactive."

"From what you said, these Plague Hearts should be our top priority. But it's not going to be that easy. The one you pointed us to was new, right?" said Vaughan. "So older ones downtown would be much harder to crack."

"If all we're really concerned about is security, why bother trying to fight off plague zombies? Burn the whole place to the ground, skip the pillaging," said Kedan Ye. Why bother risking their lives getting in close when they could just do arsonist drive-bys?

"We tried that. It takes too long, and when Plague Hearts feel the heat they start to get louder and draw more zombies. The mist soaks fire from the outside. You've seen what happens when it gets damaged, it start throwing blood around.

"Some buildings also just don't burn all that well. If the burning takes too long, seems like they start to make thicker skin. They grow bigger and when a plague heart gets immune to fire, then you get problems." There were even rumors of Plague WALLS blocking roads and trapping towns.

"So you're saying we really do need to get in close and do a lot of damage in short order," said Kedan Yet.

"Yeah. That would be best."

Vaughan and Kedan Ye glanced at each other, then turned to stare at the young man seated nearby. MC gave a particularly eloquent shrug.

Timara carefully took a sip from the mug of ersatz coffee made of roasted and boiled-up acorns. She was starting to get suspicions about how the leadership of this enclave was structured. Vaughan was the 'face' of the group, but sharing equal authority with Kenan Ye who oddly enough seemed more in tune with security concerns than the army man. Both however still gave undue importance to the opinion of a teen.

Well half of this group was teens, that made some sense. God knows she was hard-headed and with poor impulse control as a teen. Like, what could anyone do in this shitty zombie apocalypse – ground them? How do you even punish edgy little shits?

She looked at the goshawk obediently sitting on the kid's shoulder. So this was their bird trainer then? The bird turned to stare back at her with its vivid orange eyes.

Vaughan began to speak again: "All right, let's put all our cards on the table. We plan on staying in this town more-or-less indefinitely. We're not moving on until we can prove what we plan is workable. We would be happy to accept more people into the group, but we need people that can trust more than people who are useful."

"Actually, more like a bit of acting and theatrical ability," MC added.

What.

"What."


-.

-.

"And that is why, if you do this, you will be joining a cult," said MC.

Timara blinked. "I don't… I don't understand."

"What don't you understand? I can try to rephrase things, it's not all that bad really. Mostly for political reasons."

"No, I mean... You didn't even explain anything. You just said 'and that is why if you do this you will be joining a cult'."

The kid touched a finger to his chin. "Ah. I was rehearsing the explanation so often in my mind that I forgot I wasn't speaking out loud."

"You said the quiet parts out loud and the spoken parts not at all," the girl with the long ponytail huffed. "You crusty con artist."

MC grinned and stood up. "Okay then let's just get this done via practical demonstration! DOKI DOKIS!" He make a pose. "COMPILE!"

From out of sight Vaughan squeaked excitedly like a little girl.

"EARTH!"

"FIRE!"

"WIND!"

"WATER!"

"HEART!"

KAWOOSH!

A white fountain exploded behind the group posing like Power Rangers. Timara shielded her face from the sudden lash of bitter cold air.

Fsshk.

Cecil looked up at the drifting flecks and opened his hand out to catch some. "Is this… snow?"

"What."

-.

-.

Timara all but rammed her face into the balls of her palms and groaned.

"I don't know what I was expecting," she hissed. "But it was not this. Not this!"

"Sorry," said Vaughan.

Cecil remained unperturbed as always. He comfortingly put an arm over her shoulders and gave her a warm side hug. Timara took a deep breath and drew strength from his warmth. No matter how Cecil felt leaving it up to her to decide things, she would have died long ago if she didn't have someone so sensible by her side.

Timara looked up. "All right. Okay. I think I get it now. This is why you're looking for someone you can trust. What if we didn't want to join your… cult? After this?" Would they be allowed to leave? Maybe killed for their silence? Or mind wiped?

"Nothing. I mean, who would believe you?" said Kedan Ye. "Zombies, okay. Freaks, okay. Teens with attitudes with super powers? What kind of mushroom trip is that?"

Timara laughed. She closed her eyes and thought back – a year of death, and fear, and filth, and running and hiding for life. She opened her eyes and these people were so clean, so secure in themselves, she almost resented them for it. She nodded.

"Okay. Guess this is my life now. If you're still okay with us joining your group?"

Vaughan grinned. "Good to have you aboard. We don't have any any spare beds yet, but don't worry. It's only temporary. We're going to have to move to a bigger place soon."

"It's fine, we're used to it," said Cecil. "We can sleep on the ground." They knew where to find some camping bedrolls.

"You can move in today too if you want," said Kedan Ye. "We can bring the car around to pick up all your stuff."

"A bigger group means we have showers, a hot tub, and laundry too," added MC. "No offense meant, but even if we can't offer real beds, we can give you a spot to take it easy for a while."

Timara tensed up inside Cecil's hug. "Showers? You… you better not be lying to me boi."

MC shrugged. "Unlimited amounts of water and fire magic means unlimited amounts of hot water."

Timara moaned. The luxury to just be clean was something lost to the old world in this zombie apocalypse. "Cults always lead in with perks of membership. D-don't make me regret thiiss…!"

-.

-.

And so with *eleven people* in the group, things began to move incredibly fast. Cecil was an able hand with construction, and so also taking things apart for transport.

Now that there were more people to keep the base secure, teams could go out in groups of three instead of just pairs. Vaughan, Kedan Ye, and Einar took the Pilato CR down the twisting mountain roads to the east, past the military roadblock, in search of a new place to call home.

Cecil, Dr. Gilliam, and Timara - the remaining adults – took charge of clearing out the local area of anything valuable. Sometimes they replaced one of the team with one of the younger girls to build experience.

The girls all vomited the first time they had to fight and finish off a zombie, and it stung to have them lost their innocence this way but it had to be done. Sayori, specially, if they could just do without her ever bloodying her hands. Sayori cried and felt so sorry for all the poor dead people. It was so unfair. She was so sad about this tragedy and only when told that killing them was equivalent to giving them peace that she began to deal with it.

Yuri and Natsuki tried to act tough about it. Yuri was almost at her full adult physique and could fight as well as anyone, all she needed was training. Natsuki relied mainly on her fire magic.

MC and Monika had already previously gone through that right of passage.

-.

-.

Food was never going to be a problem for the community. At least, not meat.

Animals like deer were scared off by zombies moaning and shuffling everywhere, and predators had learned very quickly early on that zombies just tasted disgusting. But MC could pull in animals with his [Heart] power.

Sayori always felt terribly guilty about killing deer and rabbits that walked in so docilely to their deaths, so MC started to order hawks to hunt. There were less ethical qualms in helping hawks quickly find prey instead of having to fly around looking. Small animals brought in that way could feed the group and the birds too.

Freed barn chickens had started growing wild and multiplying in sustainable numbers with zombies scaring away their usual predators. Bringing in a few breeding pairs meant a steady supply of eggs.

At night was the time they could all be together. Their planning sessions were usually over dinner.

"So… seriously, all of this because your plan is punching a hole between dimensions to convince people in a global winter to move here?" Timara asked.

"And/or allow us to move there instead, because zombies and nukes wouldn't be able to follow us there," replied MC.

"And the cult thing?"

"These are people – men of authority – at the height of the British Empire. So they are by default internalized racists and with superiority complexes even at the verge of human extinction. Not as bad about it as America in the same era, but still it's going to be hard to break through their shell of skepticism and self-importance. Big fish in a very very small pond. We can't trust any fair trades from perfidious Albion."

"I'm still not sure about allowing others to come in just to help us scavenge," said Vaughan. "This is still American soil. British people from 1886 aren't going to respect that."

"Yeah we don't need them," Einar agreed. "We're doing just fine on our own!"

"What MC's saying here is that British people from 1886 might be more… credulous?" Kedan Ye explained. "Superstitious. That's why we're pushing the cult angle. They're less likely to fuck with us if they think they'll be damned or torn to shreds by the mob for it, while other people are going to think first about benefits. Y

"Working where it's warm and safe is a vacation for people from a winter hell. It's a hell of a difference being able to walk around solid ground in light clothes and seeing green trees and the sound of a living forest."

MC nodded. "I mostly need their engineers. Steam engines for electricity is much more sustainable if we want to restart our civilization. Farming would be great as well – unlike their hothouses, we have all this unused fertile land. If we want to keep things safe from zombies, there's always rooftop gardens."

Vaughan looked unconvinced. "They come here and work and don't have voting rights. That sounds very… suspicious to me." Too close to slavery.

"Overseas contract workers," MC replied. "They're still going to get paid in rations and tradeable goods."

"I think you're overestimating survivors a little too much," Timara sighed. "When the dead are walking around, a lot of us hate God for abandoning us, but a lot more are just looking for meaning for all our suffering. We are all irrational psychologically scarred people.

"Fuck. I hate this, but part of why I'm going along with this cult bullshit is that I know deep in my heart it's probably going to fucking work."

Vaughan nodded. Then he put down his cup and raised a finger. "Next issue for this Congress then." He raised his chin and declared "SEPARATION OF CHURCH AND STATE!"

"I AM SPACE POPE AND THIS IS MY MAGIC VATICAN!" MC shouted back.

-.
-.

A few days later, the group of survivors finalized their intent to move out of the Firewatch Tower Fort.

Kedan Ye proudly showed off their potential new base site. The walls around the diner proved that someone already had attempted to use this as a base before, and it was a mystery why they would abandon it. Unlike the Firewatch Fort, the Fortified Truck Stop's walls were made of metal trailers and siding. Much taller, much more difficult to assault.

It was something that surely took a lot of effort to accomplish, but then again there were a lot more people alive six months ago.

They might have been overrun, or they might simply have abandoned this place for greener pastures. Providence Hills was after all just a small logging town after all. Maybe they joined up with Red Talon. Maybe they had chosen to evacuate into the military refugee camps and left with all the mysteriously missing elements of the US government.

"Rusty Rosie's Roadkill Restaurant," Dr. Gilliam remarked dryly. "Charming. I hope the food was much better than their branding."

"They made pretty good burger shakes and fries too," said Cecil. "My uncle was a trucker and would bring me some when he would visit. Real handmade burgers out of pure beef, not the usual mass market crap they sell in franchise huts." He sighed sadly at what was done to the place.

Everyone's eyes were drawn to the sign nailed to the gate. 'ALL BIKES WERE SENT TO OREGON, SO DON'T ASK! – ROSIE ❤'

"But why," MC whispered.

"Don't ask," Sayori poked him in the back. She then turned to Cecil and asked "Did you know Rosie?"

The lumberjack shrugged. "Not really. But this is her family diner, been here since the seventies I think. It's a local institution."

That explained how it could get so fortified. Apart from its good location, she must have built up loads of goodwill for people to try and make their stand around her place.

They entered the gate, and first thing to meet their eyes were the words painted low on the red walls of the diner below its wide plate glass windows, in bright yellow letters: 'FOUND ON A RIDE, BROUGHT BACK AND FRIED'.

"What is it with this place's choice of themes, seriously," MC groaned.

"Ahahaha… well, Pacific Northwest. Gotta expect self-deprecating humor when you're Almost Canadian," Kedan Ye replied with laugh.

Mounted on the roof of the diner, below its 24-hour name billboard, was a massive decorative art piece of a low rider motorcycle with a larger back wheel than the front. It looked like they took the large wheel from a tractor and the front wheel from a regular truck. Impressive in its own way.

"Let's just move on from aesthetics to the particulars," Kedan Ye declared and spread his arms. "It's a lot bigger than the other place, seriously! And it's centrally located. And there's a trauma clinic and drug store nearby across the road over the bridge, so we won't even miss the Medical Outpost in the Urgent Care Clinic we had near the Winchester campgrounds."

The site was located right next to the bridge crossing the Hobson River that cut through the whole Providence Hills. Across the bridge was the Hobson Falls town proper with still plenty of scavenging potential, but zombies were dumb enough to fall down over the cliffs into the river if they tried to swarm.

If one were to follow the site all the way to the back, they would reach the picturesque Hobson Falls and the cliffs of Raven Ridge. There would be no new zeds coming from that area.

There was a trailer park right behind the truck stop for more living space if necessary and there was even a small playground area for children. This was once a community.

There was a large water tower overlooking a gas station right next to the diner. They could have running water to the whole area easy as 1-2-3.

Granted, outside the base was only partitioned off by thin wooden plank fencing that zombies could easily climb over, but if necessary, with enough labor they could expand fortifications into a true castle town.

"I'm impressed. This is perfect!" MC beamed. "It's almost too convenient, but this is exactly what we needed."

Kedan Ye smirked. "Heh. Don't give me that. Your magic preknowledge didn't tell you about this even though it told you enough where to find us?"

"It's different knowing about it and actually seeing it in person!"

Sayori and Natsuki explored the insides of the old diner. The seats had already been removed and recycled into fencing, but from the red checkerboard floor tiles to the wood-paneled walls decorated with road signs there was still a lot that spoke about chic America. It had a strong biker theme, roaring with freedom and the open road. Natsuki was delighted to find that the place still had a fully functional kitchen.

Dr. Gilliam and Yuri paced around, wondering where it would be best to put the infirmary. Indoors would be better to tend sick people, but then it was also important to isolate them somewhat to prevent infection. Perhaps to the right side, near the bathrooms.

Einar, Vaughan, Cecil, and Timara were already preparing to make the repeated cargo runs moving all the stuff from the Watchtower Fort over to the new base. Along the way the scout group found another Pilato minivan parked at a local power transformer station. So now the community had two cars, and surprisingly the gas station still had plenty of gasoline that could be siphoned out. It takes about two years for gasoline to go bad.

Monika's attention was drawn to a large rusty metal box stuck into the concrete roughly in between the diner and the car body shop. It had fins jutting out of its edges, reminding her roughly of a missile. A still functional laptop was bolted onto to one side.

Spray-painted onto the opposite side of the pod with black paint was 'CLEO IS A LIAR!'

"What is this?" she asked.

"Ah, that looks like a CLEO Drop Pod." Kedan Ye pointed up. "Word is there's this satellite drone network that can drop supplies if you have the right authorization."

"Please tell me the military didn't build fucking SkyNet," MC moaned.

"Well between zombies and death robots, I prefer zombies. If CLEO were to go SkyNet on us, it would have done it by now."

Monika pointed to the words 'CLEO IS A LIAR'.

"Yeah, this zombie thing going global is also suspicious as hell, so I can't rightly say." He shrugged. "Break open or hack this thing and we can get what goodies are inside, but I don't think we can get any answers from a drop pod."

"That brings up the question, where is the CLEO getting those supplies from? Are there still functional or automated orbital launch facilities? Is there a space station up there? I was thinking Vaults, but could it be possible that the government abandoned this place to hide out in space?"

Kedan Ye shrugged. "I dunno man. It's all a mystery."

MC sighed and look up at the blue sky, infinitely high and crystal clear. "If we have to go magic vs tech I don't know if we can beat that." His glance flicked over to Monika.

The girl smiled and shook her head slowly. She opened her hand out toward the laptop connected to the pod, and the screen flicked to static for a moment.

"Eyes on the present, MC. Leave that for later," said Kedan Ye, laughing and slapping him on the shoulder. "We've got more work to do before we can get going with this interplanetary smuggling ring you and Vaughan cooked up."

-.
-.

"What are you scheming now?" Timara asked MC. She was starting to get familiar with that smug little smile on his face.

"Fashion!"

It was important. How you dressed sold the idea. Robes and hoods, as uncomfortable as it may be to Vaughan, were the badges of office. Josefa Gilliam, surprising for being a devout Roman Catholic, was very enthusiastic about the idea.

"Because while you might be talking about this like it's fake, I believe that deep inside your heart, you're just trying to bring out what is true. You are going off to minister to people who need to find their faith again, and like you said… your powers are possibly divinely mandated."

MC winced, and she continued "So all of you need to dress the same, right? With a monk's hood to half hide your face. I can sew something if you can just find me the materials."

"How about popup tent canvas?" said Kedan Ye.

"Bright, consistent, unfading colors on wrinkleproof material. Good choice!"

MC's next request was to make one of those Buddhist staffs in the Workshop, with the metal rings inside a larger ring, that he could tap on the ground with a tinkling sound.

Finally, a metal mask that completely covered the upper half of his face, completely obscuring his eyes. This was easy enough, just hammering out some scrap aluminum. He should not be able to see, but somehow still able to because of animal telepathy. It would be the final eerie touch to sell the supernatural element.

Putting it all together, with an eye-searingly bright blue hood and tabard over a black polyester robe. There was some resemblance to a Dragon Quest Priest, but mostly because that was an incredibly easy costume to make. MC posed with his palm to his chest. With his eyes hidden, that smile looked more gentle and his face vastly less smugly asking for a punch.

Monika stared at him. "This looks eerily familiar, but I can't figure out why. Zechs Marquise?"

MC grinned. "We are called to harrow Hell, and drag souls screaming back out into the light. We have chosen the path of perpetual torment, in our ravenous duty we shall find no peace. In brightest day, in blackest night, let all who worship evil's might. Beware our power – the Ringbearer's Light!"

"Holy mixed metaphors, Batman!"

"Could you possibly take this seriously?" Dr. Gilliam sighed. "It makes me anxious if your childishness will lead you to accidentally getting burned at the stake."

MC laughed, shook his head slowly and jingled his ring staff. "I can't stop making jokes, Doc. It's the only way I have to beat aside the constant antediluvian terror of my existence."

Nobody knew what to say about that.

With great power comes great responsibility, and on top of being responsible for the mental health of four dokis, his actions could influence the survival of five planets. MC bared his teeth in a wide and humorless grin.


-.

-.
 
1.11 By Your Powers Combined
AN: I have been delaying this for too long. I really wanted to move to Frostpunk world already.

-.

-.


More days passed.

Timara bitched and moaned because a lot of her job was figuring out new religious doctrine because a user experience designer had sufficient background in user psychology to figure out expectations and efficiency for any particular task. We only had our movie stereotypes of how Britons and probably a good amount of Scots will act in the winter apocalypse, but you could get away with a lot in life if you just brazen it out.

We had to practice giving sermons and posing for effect. She hated speech writing. Fortunately, Dr. Gilliam was used to writing reports and comforting patients.

Vaughan went on the radio making contact with other groups around Providence Ridge. Kedan Ye and Einar proved their badassness by raiding libraries and bookstores. Cecil seemed to vaguely disapprove of the whole thing, but just busied himself with construction around the base.

While MC practiced his haranguing, the girls practiced their magic. Control over shape and form, creating precisely formed structures large and small. Their magic rings were limited only by their imagination. They had more in common with comic book Lantern rings than anything, because their magic was actually innate.

-.

-.

Kedan Ye peered through his binoculars at the sight of a large tethered balloon high in the distance. He lowered the scopes and thumbed the radio transceiver on his left shoulder. Click. "This is Full Pint to Roadkill Actual, do you copy?"

"Motherfucker, it's cold!" Einar hissed.

"Yeah. Of course? Like, didn't you believe it when they said this was the land of Always Winter?" Kedan Ye clicked the radio again. "Full Pint to Roadkill Actual, do you read?"

"Hey, Quarter Pint, could you get the flame on?" Einar asked Natsuki.

The girl scrunched her face up at him. Then she opened her arms out and the air seemed to shimmer in between. "Do you need a hug?" she asked impishly.

Einar scooted back. "No thanks."

They were all wearing thick parkas. Washington State had no shortage of winter gear. Soon enough it would be winter on their side as well. But walking on snow so thick that even going hip deep the bottom of your boots were just tracking on more snow was another thing entirely.

There were no problems even looking for heavy winter clothing in Natsuki's size, which somewhat pissed her off. She was eighteen in her last year of high school and they still had to look in the children's section.

The portal could remain open for as long as she remained on the other side. This world was her domain. "I can't warm the air up too much or we'll sink," Natsuki grumbled.

Kedan Ye turned around to look at the glowing hole in the world approximately a kilometer behind them. "Okay, radio isn't propagating this far away from the world portal. Let's head back."

"There just ain't nothing here man. Using this place to run away if zombies overrun the planet? I don't think it can work."

"Well I was told this just a way station really. There's a desert world after this. Zombies can't follow us through snow. And if it turns out we're infectious carriers, that place doesn't have enough remaining population to make the walking dead any of a prevailing concern. Time log?"

Einar looked down at the sports stopwatch in his gloves. "Three minutes twelve seconds."

After a short while they were back through the world portal.

"Welcome back, SG-1," MC greeted them on their return as the portal shrunk down behind them with a hiss and a pop.

Kedan Ye smiled and nodded briefly. "Thank you." That was a concession to his hobby lobby.

"So, did you find New London?"

Kedan Ye shrugged as he started to shuck off the parka which would shortly become uncomfortable in the mild Washington State early fall. "Maybe? You guys can target the portals to open closer and closer each time, it's clearly not a 1:1 geographical congruence."

"Yeah well of course. We're in Pacific East Coast and they're in... Scotland?" MC answered. "Time congruence?"

"Five minutes nineteen seconds," Einar reported.

Yuri looked at her own stopwatch which marked the moment they stepped through. "Five minutes twenty two seconds. That's margin of error, no time differential."

MC hummed and scratched at his hairless chin. "It could be New London… or it could be Winterhome. Winterhome's generator is going to inevitably explode, and they would only survive by frantically repairing their Dreadnought in time and migrating en masse to New London."

"Sounds like those people are more desperate," Vaughan mentioned from up high. He was sitting on the improvised watchtower built over a large fuel tank. The rest of the group were around, some overlooking the inter-planetary staging ground from inside the diner and the others on station marking down data on a standing whiteboard. Dr. Gilliam and Timara ended up being mission control.

"Like we'd be lucky if we ended up meeting people scared out of their minds that they'll take whatever deal. But what if we're not so lucky?" said the doctor.

MC licked his lips. "If there is one thing we have to value most, it is Free Will. Like, fundamental human rights to the freedom to decide their own fate. If they reject us, then so be it. We will save as much as we can elsewhere. New London would have to survive on its own – they have the nerve and the will to do it."

MC then shook his head and huffed. "What we will not do is to manipulate people like moving pieces on the board. If you lie with every breath just to get them to move, that's ultimately not for their own good."

"And yet you're doing this whole cult show, you hypocrite," Timara snickered.

"The book of the Living Death is a record of struggle. The book of Cold Death is a prophecy. The book of Dry Death will be a rebirth. The book of Tainted Water is tale of grand sacrifice. The book of Lost Earth – breaks through to leads us back to the beginning. None of what will be spoken of in these things are false. Not even from a certain point of view."

"Stop making me ghostwrite thingsss…!"

-.

-.

And finally, early in the morning, fifteen days since they all first showed up in Providence Hills:

"After some point, we have to move past cosplay and playing around and just commit to it," MC spoke up. He walked back on forth in front of the four girls standing in a line, as if he were a drill sergeant addressing his recruits. His voice was cracking. "I may be asking too much from you, I might not have the right to decide so much *for* you just because you trust me. But we can do this. We have the power. We can do this! We just need to keep calm, stick to the plan, don't go too far, and we'll be fine. We can do this!"

"You're not psyching yourself up, you're just panicking. Calm down." Vaughan put his hands on MC's shoulders and forced the teen to stop. "If you're unsure then you shouldn't go. There's nothing wrong with being afraid."

"Ahahahaha… no. Afraid? Afraid is like having a gun pointed at your head while tied to a chair. Terror is knowing that five seconds from now, they're going to pull the trigger and you'll beg and scream and promise anything to survive past those five seconds. I am terrified."

"Is something forcing you to do this?" Vaughan asked with alarm.

MC exhaled softly with a defeated air. "You know… how we have incomplete memories, right? Like we just appeared created out of whole cloth out of nowhere?"

"Yeah?"

"I have a strong feeling this is not the first time we were in the front seat in the show of total human extinction. And then after that… I remember only – pain."

MC slumped on his walking staff. "Do you know what could be worse than dying? Try something like being a zombie, but completely aware and unable to control what your body is doing. An immortal prisoner of your own flesh. Watching your friends mutilate themselves and each other, over and over again."

Sayori covered her ears and whimpered. Natsuki clutched at her arm. Yuri bit her lips and had to force herself to stay still, while Monika turned away with her face twisted in pain.

"Worlds of torment," MC whispered with a shiver. "But Hell itself… is a very very personal thing."

"Jesus Christ, that makes it even more important that you don't go at all!" Vaughan cried out.

"The Lord our God does not call the worthy, He makes the called worthy of their burden. If we do not make ourselves worthy of this power, we shall shatter. Vessels only weakly glued together, let us be put to the fire and fuse into a more resilient form." MC straightened up and everyone could almost feel the glare through a blank mask.

Dr. Gilliam whistled. "Damn. Okay, so maybe this can work. You *are* good at this. You can impro." She clacked her tongue. "Like I said, to really sell the idea means at some level you have to believe what you're saying. You are an instrument of salvation. If you break kayfabe at any point, that's when you get burned at the stake."

"Wait, so that thing from before… was that just a made-up backstory?" asked Kedan Ye.

"No," Monika whispered. "That really happened. I'm sorry."

"Fuck!" he spat.

Einar stepped up and said "Okay, this is probably my last chance and you're stick of hearing it by now, but I gotta say it one last time. Why risk your neck for strangers? We're doing fine here, your powers can fix this world. A lot of people here also need your help. I know you guys have this Peter Parker sacrifice play bullshit going on, but you know – Peter Parker's life FUCKING SUCKS.

"You shouldn't be killing yourselves over people who are just going to take it for granted! It's dangerous to go out there. You shouldn't even go at it alone – fuck, just some of us with you. Hell, army man, give them your automatic rifle! If they need to shoot their way out, then they should have the option!"

He pointed at Yuri. "And don't give me that bullshit about water magic being more dangerous in a place completely buried by frozen H20 – that only works if you have the nerve to strike back at people trying to kill you! If you hesitate because you pity them, you kids dying don't accomplish jack shit!"

MC's grip on his staff tightened. He turned towards Einar and said softly "You really do care, don't you. You just want to keep your people safe and happy."

"Uh. Yeah. What's wrong with that? Giving things up to strangers so we end up hungry instead is stupid. You call me a warlord, but I'm just keeping an eye on the important things."

MC lowered his head. "Thank you. I'm sorry, if I haven't managed to express this well… but we're all really thankful for all that you've done. You've taken us in and have unreasonably indulged our whims for so long. What we are doing, we are only able to do because of you.

"I am but a messenger, the heroes of this age are those who stand before me. All I wanted was a way to slide past the veil of suspicion and ego, but you – you never needed any of that. A group of so few people decided without any provoking, to share so much of their resources and labor on the hopes of saving so many people unrelated to them. I'm sorry for being such a selfish brat. I might be just playing hero, you're the ones that deserve to be praised for your selflessness."

He raised his staff and rammed it down into the ground hard enough to leave cracks in the concrete. He leaned heavily on it, clutching with all his strength lest he fall. "I would stay if could! I want to stay! I want to just rebuild a society with you! We don't remember well anymore our families – if we had any in the first place – but now we have one!

"I want to stay! We're happy here! This is our home!"

"Then why don't you?" Dr. Gilliam asked gently. "Who decided that this should be all your responsibility?"

Monika spoke up "You must let us go. If you don't… we will break. You can't protect us forever."

Sayori mumbled "Sometimes too much kindness just makes the hurting even worse…"

Yuri nodded and added "Some of us need to be worthy of this power we were given. If it was just magic power, that would have been fine. But the power to break through different worlds implies a much deeper obligation."

Natsuki said "Ehh, I don't really care either way. But if this is the best way to help, then I guess I can't live with knowing I didn't at least try."

Power exploded around each of them, shimmering colors of light that reminded them that their power was not given through their rings but written into their souls. Green-earth, Blue-wind, Red-fire, White-water, Orange-heart.

MC bent down low as if weighed down by tons and tons of expectations, then abruptly shot up standing straight again, shucking off all that pressure with angry defiance. "This is our reality. And if this world won't write us an ending…" he whispered huskily. "What will it take for us to have it all?"

Earth.

Fire.

Wind.

Water.

Heart.

KA-WHOOSH.


-.

-.
 
2.1 A Frost Punk
-.

-.

Generator 157 was built under the shadow of a hanging rock, protecting it from prevailing winds, while a gently sloping entrance granted easy access to the frostland. This shallow bowl though ultimately limited in space, had easy access to sizable coal reserves.

Winterhome had already been active for some time, the goal of several land dreadnoughts. Hundreds of people fled to the frozen north and all those people needed to be fed and sheltered from the cold. But manpower was its own power, and swiftly a community sprang into being.


Dreadnoughts were disassembled for wood and metal and Steam Cores. The Heat Generator Tower turned on from nearby surface deposits coal deposits.

Dwellings were laid down, first mere Tents, then solid-wall Bunkhouses, finally strong winterized Houses for a select few. Hunter's Huts were built, supplemented by Hothouses for reliable food production. Lumber Mills processed the leafless frozen tree trunks, chopped down from dead forests still sticking off the snow. Coal Thumpers pumped out seams of coal to the surface by forcing pressurized water into underground deposits. Precious Steam Cores were used up creating the combined extraction/refining installations that were the Steelworks, and Coal Mines to tap larger underground deposits.

More workers set up an Outpost in an open pit coal mine nearby for even more steady supply. There were hundreds of workers but even children needed to work through all the jobs their small hands could support. Cookhouses to feed the many, Infirmaries to treat the sick, Public Houses for the weary after the workday, all of these were laid down sooner than any resource gathering expansion. Everybody had to contribute to ceaseless construction, mandated by the Captain into several distinct zones away from the city center.

So many things to do in so short a time, but Winterhome managed.

They had a city, a people warm and well-fed, with no fear of running out of coal and heat any time soon.

That is, until their Heat Generator Tower started malfunctioning.

-.

-.

Robert Clark suddenly opened his eyes and took a deep desperate gasp for breath. He tried to sit up but was forced back down to bed.

"Easy, there… easy." Dr. Pleasant Bosby's soothing voice seemed to far away. "Don't try to force yourself, you'll open your wound again."

Wound?

Clark let out a weak groan. The pain also felt so far away. But that numbness was just the cold, not any sort of painkiller. That was more dangerous.

He opened his eyes again to see Pleasant Bosby's withered face and large round eyesglasses looking all concerned. Whoever named the old man wanted their child to have a good life, and unlike other children who might act out from being teased and judged for their name – like for example, someone named Chastity being anything but virginal – he decided to live up to it.

A pleasant fellow to have around indeed. He kept his head down and tried not to make trouble for anyone.

No one would ever have expected him to be the brains of a bloody revolution.

"… Did we win?" Clark croaked out.

"You could say that, yeah. Welcome back, Captain."

Clark frowned. "Captain? I'm not the… oh." He lay listlessly down on the cot. "I guess we did win, then." No one could be Captain until the previous one died.

-.

-.

The former Captain of Winterhome strongly believed in Order. He was one of those who worked on building the generators before the frost arrived, and so it was thought that with his leadership experience it was best for him to take charge over a group formed of several Steam Dreadnoughts full of refugees. The problem was that his leadership style could roughly be summed up as 'rampant thuggery'.

He believed in letting the workers divide, report, and compete against each other for privilege and comfort. It was sometimes necessary to spend lives for progress, else how would the generator tower that gave life to Winterhome stand? Many people died to construct their tower in the last autumn of the world, it would be an insult to waste their sacrifice.

As long as workers did their jobs, it was fine. It was right and proper for the upper classes to direct them to the greater goal the benefited them all, and more educated people like Engineers surely deserved better lodging and meals to keep their minds sharp.

With no warmth, hothouses failed to produce food. Hunters had to trek far and wide to feed hundreds of people. They would not often succeed.

With no warmth, what was the point of mining coal for the generator? People stole coal and wood to heat their own homes.

With no warmth, the sick could not be treated.

With no warmth, even Engineers could not work.

Watchtowers were set up, staffed by Peacekeepers. Prisons built, to keep malingerers from spreading their poison. Death was the instant verdict to anyone caught stealing supplies, and everyone was forced to watch each time. Riots were met with gunfire. Fear and pain would drive compliance.

Public Houses were allowed to become houses of pleasure with women serving with dubious consent, multiple Fighting Arenas dotted the settlement, and if people could not drink soup they at least might have alcohol. The supporters of his regime lived very well indeed, as much as the city could allow.

The Captain's greatest failure was failing to understand that his Engineers would not take their comfort for granted. Enough of them had empathy for the people that actually allowed their city to survive. He demanded people to work until they died at the posts at threat of their whole families being executed, and enough of these learned fellows were disgusted. Oppression could maybe be endured, but not ineptitude. Not in these times.

The generator tower was a massively complicated device clad in solid steel shell. Trying to find out what went wrong would not be a speedy process. The generator's stress built up too quickly, it could never be run long enough to sufficiently warm the city. Perhaps the greatest irony was that just when the Engineers had managed to bring back the generator to a nominal state, did the Captain begin his final purge.

Sparing no one, anyone that challenged his rule had to die for the city to be stable. There were too many people to feed, a culling would them good. Traitors, betrayers of his trust, they couldn't be allowed to die quickly – no, among all others their deaths needed to be the ones to sow terror that would finally cow each and every one of these weak-hearted fools!

The city rose up as one.

What was a spark became flames.

-.

-.

"No, don't get up yet Captain," said Pleasant Bosby. "It's only been a few hours since you got stabbed. Give the blood a bit o' time to clot. The people know you're alive and safe. We'll be fine."

"How… how many did we lose?"

Pleasant Bosby licked his lips and sighed. "We made a headcount… we lost about eighty people. Not just the old regime and our strikers… men, women, children. So much of the city was on fire, we probably lost more in the blaze than the fighting. The only way we could know is to count the remainder."

"How many left?"

"Five hundred sixty or seventy or eighty… ish."

"We had over seven hundred people when we started…"

Pleasant Bosby nodded. "Before all this madness began." The old captain killed a hundred or so over a couple of months, then the riots killed as much within a couple of days.

"The city… how's Winterhome?"

Pleasant Bosby winced. "Well that's another matter entirely. We didn't burn down… all of it? Aye, that's something I can say. Only about three-quarters of it, that's right news."

"… Bugger all, then. The food stores?"

"One of the raw food stores managed to escape being put to the flame, but we guess it's about enough food for three hundred people. For today."

Robert Clark grunted in pain and tried to sit up again.

"Captain, you're not ready for that yet!"

"If you're calling me Captain, then I need to stand! Damn it… after everything the Simon Sayers did, now all I can do is to order people to get to work. They need to work in the cold or we starve to death." His expression flickered and he turned to Pleasant Bosby with wide-eyed alarm. "The Generator! Is it…?"

"The Generator is functional, Captain. Most of the coal stores also went up in flames, but as long as it doesn't bugger up again soon, should be safe enough to turn it on. With your permission?"

"Do it. Give our people warmth. Give them… hope."

-.

-.

Like the great steel animal, the generator groaned and hissed, its pumping arms clanked slowly, gaining speed, and then with one explosive roar flame belched out the top and Winterhome's Heat Generator Tower lived once more!

The people stood around it, in their hundreds they basked in its warmth, comforted by its terrible din, and they cheered.

All around them were still smoldering ruins. Swaths of the city were nothing more than steel and wood skeletons, still on fire. Corpses still lay scattered among the streets.

It was almost daylight, and the revolution had won.

They had no food. They had no shelter. But they had warmth.

-.

-.

Captain Robert Clark needed help to walk out into the open. People roared with welcome. Weakly he raised his arms to get them to quiet down. Most everyone that could stand in the city were there, bundled up in their thick clothes and each with a personal coal lamp-heater over their chests, even the children.

It reminded him of the previous mandatory gatherings, but they all needed to hear this. He stepped up to a crate so that even those at the back could see him and his voice could carry through.

He coughed, and his voice was hoarse, but even so he tried to shout: "Winterhome! We have won back our freedoms! No more must we suffer under the heels of tyrants and self-important idiots!

"But I won't lie to you! Right now we don't have enough food, we don't have enough warm roofs over our head. We are cold and sick. As much as it pains me to ask this of you, we need to get back to work. So the first thing we need to do is to clear some of these ruins. We need the material – we need to rebuild! We need more Medical Posts. We need men and women for Hunting parties!

"We have enough coal for the generator, if we just have a place to store them again. If we do this quickly and without complaint, none of us need to die any more today! We're all in this together now. If we work hard, if we get luck and God on our side, we'll live through this and bring Winterhome back in working order in a short lick! So let's get to it!"

"Aye, Captain!" the crowd shouted back.

Then one by one they turned around and to their duties. Most of the overseers had been strung up until dead in the mutiny, but some of the Engineers that sided with them could still direct people for the most efficient places to build Gathering Posts for more efficient disassembly of wood and metal scrap.

"… Should have expected that, nothing but hard labor for our lot," some grumbled.

"Captain can't be hoarding, there ain't nothing to hoard," another replied.

"My child is sick, where are the doctors? We need the doctors to get back to work!"

"We're gonna need more Hunter's Huts to set those up hunting parties…"

"Cookhouses didn't go up in fire, lucky that. Though I guess maybe that's cos they had water already in case something went burnin' up. Can we trust the cooks to give us all a fair share eh?"

"That's not up to them, best be first to get done and in line, eh?"

"Corpse disposal, corpse disposal, someone help us out here!"

-.

-.

Robert Clark staggered back, feeling drained of living power. He reached into his coat and touched the left side of his chest. His fingers came out bloody.

"Fookin' ell, Captain. Don't strain yerself!" said one of his appointed guard/assistants, a young worker named William Brown. "Where's old Pleasant face?"

The doctor approached and bid the youths to bring the Captain inside.

The previous Captain, Simon Lord Stokey, lived in fortified House right behind the Stockpiles. That too had been set aflame and nothing but ruins now. For sake of egalitarianism, Robert Clark chose to live *inside* the Stockpiles – even with its thin walls, it was more than warm enough this close to the Generator.

"Did we make a mistake…?" Clark whispered. He sat on a bench and rested his elbows on his knees. He stared at the hard dirt soil beneath his feet. "Rising up… it had to happen. But we caused so much damage… so much death. Could we have done better? Was it worth all this devastation?"

"The fires… doesn't really matter who stared it now, Captain," said William Brown. "No one can fight that force o' nature when it gets going."

"Being a Captain is about making decisions. Make the wrong one and people will die. I can't… I can't be sure that what I ask is even possible. We destroyed so much. It's going to take so much to secure what we need to live." Clark looked up with a hollow expression in his eyes. "I can't promise that I'll keep everyone alive under my watch."

"The difference is that when Captain-Lord Stokey made a decision, it was to make sure the wrong people died in order to keep the right people alive," said Pleasant Bosby.

William shrugged. "Just do yer best, Captain. That's all we can expect from you. We didn't rise up to put someone more competent in charge ta solve all our problems, we just wanted justice. We wanted the killings to stop. Captains see things we folk don't see, we just have to trust you've got a plan to see us through."

'But I don't.' This Robert Clark wisely kept himself from saying. Get as many people roofed and fed as soon as possible, that was all he needed to do. It was something that relied entirely on people's hard dumb labor – and it was empowering in a way to know that your survival didn't rely on anything more complicated than your own efforts.

But hungry people slow down. Thin walls let in too much cold. They get sick sooner. And then they die.

It required a certain arrogance to decide things for hundreds of people. If the Generator started to fail again, would he share the same fate as the previous Captain?

He sighed. "Stokey thought that as long as order was maintained, things would be all right. You can kill hope, as long as you keep unrest down, people will live. What the people have now is… faith. Anything was better than the horrors we were living through. We just needed to take faith that we could work things out better if we didn't get fed lies and beatings…"

He chuckled darkly "And now you gave that faith all to me.

"I just hope it's not misplaced. Would be nice if us mere Captains could pull a miracle out of arses- "

-.

-.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Even with the racket of the Generator Tower, that tiny tinkling noise still rose above it all, commanding attention.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

The sound of hoops, metal softly striking metal.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Coming closer.

-.

-.
 
2.2 A Frost Punk
-.

-.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and slowly came to realize what was eerie. It was the wind - the wind had stopped. The steady, dull howl of the winter gusts had silenced, leaving this crystal clarity in their wake.

Pleasant Bosby stepped out of the Stockpiles tent to stare down the avenue going down straight down the city towards the exit of this shallow bowl-shaped valley. The cliffs opened to the frostlands due south-west, and there were to straightaways visible directly from the generator core – one due south ending towards a cliff face. Another at an angle towards the valley exit, past the torched Propaganda Center and in view of the fortunately still intact Outpust Depot and its tall light signal tower.

Almost everything in the south side of Winterhome was burned to scrap. The Factories, the Coal Mines, the Steelworks, the Hothouses, the Resource Depots, most of the Hunter's Huts, and denser housing – the beating economic heart of the settlement. All the ruins were still smoldering with small licks of flame. Five figures in bright blue cloaks walked in a line past the ruined propaganda center.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

The lead figure carried a staff with topped with a metal ring looped through with smaller ring bangles. With every step, the rings clinked as the staff touched the ground.

The air was most and warm around them. Snow melted in their approach. The little carrion-fires of the ruins around them doused out in their passing.

Those near the Generator stopped to stare. No one impeded their approach.

Finally the group of five arrived at the generator and stopped. They stood shorter than most. The lead person looked up, and exposed a face half covered with a polished metal mask. He looked around, despite how there were no holes in the mask covering his eyes. His (lack of) eyes met Pleasant Bosby, and the doctor-engineer blinked owlish at the smile. The bright robin's egg-blue robed figure approached, and this time the young guards moved to protect their senior.

"I see you, Winterhome," the robed figure spoke, and his voice carried eerily through the still air. "I greet you, Winterhome. Thine city was mired in wickedness, and thou hast purged thyself in flame. But have these burnt offerings of pain and anguish saved thee?

All in this world have already been judged, the angel of death has cast its scythe upon all mankind. Only by the pockets of the few hundreds do you remain living here and there, one misstep short of extinction.

"But fear not. I carry to you the message of the LORD. You are not alone. You have not been forgotten. And you will know His Power by these words: ALL WILL BE WELL."

"What."

"I carry with me the Book of the Cold Death. I carry with me the voice of LORD, the Meek shall Inherit the Earth. Thou must live to see these words fulfilled." Clink. Clink. Clink. He stepped forward and William Brown stepped out, scowling, to meet him.

"Ey, what's this about? Don't come any closer if you know what's good for ya! Ya with Lord Stokey, ya rotter?"

"Wait." Pleasant Bosby put a hand on the young man's shoulder and moved to the front. He asked "Who are you and why are you playing at prophet in these times? Your voice…! We don't need any more nonsense right now, we have too much to do, young man!"

"I am Emsi," the prophet said with a gentle smile. "As the LORD declared to Heremiah –

"Do not say,
"'I am only a child.'
"For to everyone I send you,
"you must go,
"and all that I command you,
"you must speak.
"Do not be afraid of them,
"for I am with you to deliver you-"

Clink. Clink. Clink.

"And the LORD said:

"See, I have appointed you today
"over nations and kingdoms
"to uproot and tear down,
"to destroy and overthrow,
"to build and plant.

"I am Emsi. Today I carry that duty into the frozen wastes. Today I bring to you, more than just words. Winterhome, thou art chosen. You have not been abandoned. Thou must live. Let none more die where it can be prevented.

"Unto us are granted power over the sky and wind. Water and ice, they shall obey. The glories of HIS throne bestow fire and light. The angels themselves make the earth quake and rise. And unto me is given dominion over the creatures and beasts that they too should survive this century of gloom.

"We are here to help. Take us to your leader."

"… I am extremely skeptical of these claims," the old man sighed heavily.

One of the blue-robed figures stepped forward and raised a feminine arm. She opened her hand up to the sky, and them she clenched her fist.

The ground trembled.

Everyone sucked in their breath and clung to the nearest support – be it a standing piece of wood and steel or each other. Ice and snow chipped and fell from high places. Earthquakes were rare in the frozen north. This quake was a gentle one, but impossible to ignore, the whole valley swayed from side to side.

The woman opened her hand.

The quake stopped.

The woman closed her hand into a fist again. Her fist glowed with a green power.

The quake resumed. For thirty straight seconds, the frozen earth rattled.

And she lowered her hand and all was quiet and at peace. The howl of the winter winds returned, the frost re-asserting its supremacy.

And the prophet Emsi said "We are not here to uproot and tear down, but to plant and build. We come not to save your souls, but your lives.

"Take us to your Captain, that we may palaver the fate of your people."



-.
-.



Part of Robert Clark's mind was going 'This is wasting daylight.' They had only just survived a night that would linger long in their nightmares, and many people were wounded. It was morning and no one had eaten yet.

But that earthquake drew everyone's attention and now it seemed that everyone was rubbernecking. Children were sitting on their father's shoulders so they could see this doubly historic occasion. People were braving clambering up to the frames of the ruined buildings around the Generator.

All five hundred people could not fit in so small a space, of course – so some had to be more reasonable and do the essential jobs of starting the cookhouses and bringing the sick and wounded to the Medical Posts. They would just have to hear what happened later.

That is, if it wasn't for that strange power that made soft spoken words echo through the entire city as if from loudspeakers.

A talk like this needed chairs and tables, but before they could order some to be brought out from the Public House, one of the blue-robed figures gestured and water fell like a fountain from a hole in the air.

Water impossibly snaked through the air and struck the ground, and froze into perfectly shaped dining tables and chairs. A long table with eight chairs ten, and the blue-robed visitors sat on one end – two to each long side and their leader onto the fifth seat on the table end.

Captain Clark sat on the opposite end, with Pleasant Bosby and young William Brown behind him. Seated on either side were Amelia Finch, with a ledger open to use as a notebook for the official record, and Jacob Monde as someone who had some liturgical training. He was sadly a Scottish Catholic who had made a show of rejecting all religious authority in the despair of this merciless world but needs must, the Captain supposed. Winterhome was largely a secular community, though he supposed that was another thing Lord Stokey made sure to stamp out. Not even God was allowed to stand as an authority over him.

Amelia Finch ran a gloved palm over the table surface and couldn't help but to open her mouth in wonder. Solid ice, this close to the generator, and it showed no signs of melting. She rubbed at it with her finger, and simple friction should start melting. Her index finger carved out a small hollow, but as soon as she took off her finger from the ice, the table surface healed up in no time at all to become perfectly level once more.

"Is this magic...?" she whispered with awe.

"God is the one true source of power. Even in scripture, The Devil asked for permission." The older man looked torn. "If this is a miracle…"

"Hm? What's wrong?" Clark asked aside. He was sitting there with his hands laced over his mouth, resting his elbows on the table.

"So many have already died. Apocalypse has come and gone. We who are not dead… are we the worthy ones, or are we those denied entry to paradise but not considered notable enough to burn in Hell? Yet what does this mean that up until now such evil as Lord Stokes were spared?"

"Good question. I'll ask that later."

He faced front again, lowered his hands and said loudly, "On behalf of Winterhome, welcome. We don't know where you came from, but we will always welcome any travelers to our home, treat it as your home as much as you wish. There are no such thing as strangers in these times.

"I am indeed the Captain of this city – Robert Clark. May I introduce you to Pleasant Bosby, our Chief Engineer, Miss Amelia Finch, our record-keeper, Reverend Jacob Monde, our guide for this situation. William Brown, speak up as much as you want, you may have concerns that our common folk would also like to share."

He gestured forward and asked "So we can stop being strangers, pardon my rudeness, who are you then?"

The visitors one by one lowered their hoods. Clark already had a vague idea of their youth, but he didn't expect them to be that young. Four young women and one young man – young adults, certainly, but all so fresh-faced and potent in their untapped potential.

From left to right, they introduced themselves:

"I am Monika," said the tall young lady with brown hair as she worked that luxurious length out from under the hood to hang free in a ponytail tied with a large white ribbon. "My domain is [Earth], pleased to meet you."

"Um, hi! I'm Sayoori, I'm [Wind] then, I guess. Nice to meet you!" She looked shorter and young, with reddish blonde hair cut short with a large red bow on the side. She smiled so happily and uninhibitedly that unconsciously the other side who had just finished a night of killing started to smile back.

"I am Emsi, you already know this," spoke the young man at the center. He had messy black hair, but half of his face was covered by a metal plate. "I speak from the [Heart]."

"Yeah, uh, I'm Nat Sooki," piped up the small girl to the right, with shocking pink hair. "My power is [Fire] and like, I don't need any fuel to make that happen. I can't keep it going for as long as your Generator though."

Everyone was immediately interested to know more about that.

And finally, with a quiet intensity, the long-haired young woman with a refined air to her spoke "I am Yuri. My domain is [Water]. Ice counts as water. Honored to meet you."

Clark quirked his lips, amused. There was definitely something of a threat there.

He clapped his hands. "Thank you. It is our honor to meet you as well. Now, you said you were here to help. What do you mean by that? What do you intend?"

Emsi nodded. "I bring you a prophecy – a truth that may destroy all hope if said too soon. But also a truth – that ALL WILL BE WELL. None need die unless through accident. We are to use our power to help you through your trials, and of those you fail to save… worry not. We have a place for them."

"Then why not just say it? Is it really necessary that prophets speak so… obtusely?" He turned towards Monde. "Is it all right for me to ask that?"

Monde shrugged.

"Are you sure? Everyone here will hear it. It may impact your efforts going forwards. It will introduce… difficulties. I may be telling you about your decisions you will have honestly come about later," the young man asked again.

"I say we've had enough being given the run-around. Say it if you mean it."

Emsi nodded. "I respect that strength. So be it. It is written: Winterhome is doomed. Your generator was built flawed from the start. Eventually it will fail and explode. You cannot stay here – you must leave Winterhome.

"As Moses led his people out of Egypt, you all trekked north. But also as the Babylonians scattered the Israelites to the winds for their sins, now you must prepare to strike forth once more. The Fall of Winterhome… is inevitable."

A roaring noise erupted from the people. Cries of disbelief, denial, and jeers of contempt.

"Peace. It will not explode today, it will not explode next week, it will not even explode next month. There will be plenty of signs before that with the Generator showing strain. In time, Captain Clark, you would have decided that repairing the Dreadnought to find another Generator site would be the only way to save your people. Much sacrifice and many lives would be spent in this effort, and even in the best case you will not be able to save everybody.

"But this is the correct decision. Far to the east is a site that will be known as New London. They have a perfectly functioning generator -"

More roars came from the crowd. Some shouting about how they should go out and take control of that generator.

"But in many different futures open to you, seizing the generator for your own sake will only lead to the death of all. New London must shelter as many people as they can in the advent of the Great Frost that shall come from the south. A killing frost, a storm of… well, biblical proportions, like nothing you have ever seen. In other visions they came across a shattered Winterhome, and collected your disparate groups fled into the wastes. In others, they happily welcome the arrival of a Dreadnought. Their hearts broke on seeing the ruins of Winterhome, they despaired over knowing they were alone in these white wastes.

"Winterhome and New London must become one – do not in these End Times remake Cain and Abel. Such a sin will make the judgment final; humanity is not worth saving.

"Regardless it will take much time to rebuild your Dreadnought, time enough that New Londoners will have reached and settled their generator. The great danger is that when you do reach them, they will not be able to absorb your hundreds of workers and children."

Clark leaned back and crossed his arms. "I see. I'm not sure I believe the part about the generator… but it sounds plausible, at least. As far as worst-case scenarios go, that is certainly the worst – but repairing a Dreadnought to move people to another generator *if it exists* is a way out."

"Captain, that we would be putting undue immigration burden is also a realistic scenario," said Pleasant Bosby, "Paying our way in with food and resources would help."

Then he turned towards Monde. "What do you think about this prophecy, reverend?"

"Is it even a prophecy?" Jacob Monde huffed. "It sounds like an educated guess. Even without… all of these-" he waved across the table "I would think it would been believable enough that we would send out Scouts to verify."

Emsi opened his arms out helplessly. "Yes. But even at the best case, you would only be able to save at most five hundred people. But many more would have died in the resource crunch just to make any of that even close to possible.

"By the end of it, I saw much suffering. Hundreds dying of cold and illness, fighting for space, murdering for space, many sitting down and peacefully dying of cold and hunger even as they watched others load vast quantities of food and coal and wood into the Dreadnought. Those allowed inside would live, the others could only work to make that possible.

"And when it leaves, all hope would leave with it.

"You would be reduced to eating your dead. You would lead your children off to caves with the last remains of your food to spare them seeing their parents descend into madness." He pointed at Pleasant Bosby. "I saw you… sitting there," he then pointed up at the Generator, "waiting for the explosion that would end it all."

The old man sucked his breath. He was a man with a wife and two children. The only reason he would ever lose hope, is if along the way all of them would have died… no. That was no prophecy!

"What do you propose, then?" he hissed.

"Time. Time is your enemy. Right now, what do you need? Warmth, housing, food, correct? This is a symptom of a larger problem. The city is too spread out. You need to condense your population, but all the space that could be useful for that are currently useless ruins, and it will take even more time to clear them. Even with hundreds of hands at work, that is time that could have been put forth towards gathering the supplies needed for your Dreadnought.

"It is in fact the sad reality of my visions, is that it is this rebuilding phase in which Winterhome struggled to rebuild towards a sense of normality that wasted so much time.

"Your people needed warmth, so you built Blockhouses. Your people needed wood and steel, so you rebuilt the destroyed Extraction and Processing buildings. This was time so innocently spent to bank hope. Discontentment about being cold and hungry brood thoughts of another overthrowing of incompetent rulers."

The Captain unlooped one hand from his chest and rubbed at his chin. "I see. So you think we shouldn't bother trying to clearing most of the ruins? I was thinking that clearing most of them would help people breath a little easier, but I suppose it isn't really *necessary* to clear all the South Side." Tearing down symbols of the old regime would have been cathartic, but if they could save time and put more workers to lumbering and hunting instead, that would make everything afterwards much easier.

"We *are* too spread out in tents, Captain," said William Brown. "I don't think we'll mind clumping in, clear the burned homes in the North Side first." West Side was relatively unscathed, with more tents and the Medical Posts, but East Side was completely gutted and taking with it most of the food production and storage buildings.

"This alone would save us *so much time*, thank you." Captain Clark nodded towards Emsi. "We are grateful, how could we possibly repay you?"

"Captain, paying for something like this is an insult," said Reverend Monde. "By the grace of God and the kindness of Christ, we heartfully hear and accept this message, brothers and sisters." He clasped his palms together and bowed towards the other end of the table. "You spoke to us of a terrible future, but as much as this may be a dreadful fate, there is hope enough in knowing how we may avoid it. We won't fail this time. You spoke about New London. Please, if you can, stay with us for a while? We welcome you into our homes and our hearts, and please allow us even in these times to give whatever aid possible to support your ministry."

Captain Clark blinked. Right. That did imply they would have to leave after a while.

Monika shook her head sadly. "If it was just information, we would not have been given these… vast and unrestricted powers over the elements."

Emsi smiled and nodded. "We will stay a while. We can help in more ways than just this."

Captain Clark didn't quite know what to feel about that. Annoyed, certainly, mostly at how this was something utterly outside of his comfort zone. He was curious and grateful enough not to deny them any of that however. "Then whatever aid you can give, do excuse if we just accept it without hesitation."

Idly he wondered how Lord Stokey reacted, then realized the answer was simple - how would just have them shot, and no matter their power, it was likely the complication would have just made things worse. Trying to pull weight and intimidation against prophets and fanatical believers just wouldn't work because they would be rushing to who gets to be the first celebrated martyr. Even rudeness was pointless. But when they were legitimate, only a total moron would ignore their warnings. Hubris was the sin most punished by the gods.

Emsi abruptly stood up. "Then let us help you now." He pointed to the ruined Bunkhouses across the street near the Stockpile. "Please – make sure there are no people near that area."

The girls stood up as well. Captain Clark looked askance for a moment, and then began making whispered orders to carry out this… request.

-.
-.
 
2.3 A Frost Punk
-.
-.

The crowd of raggedy Winterhome civilians pulled away from the spot, with some loud men shouting for them to get out of the way. The Workers that formed the core of the new regime's nascent security forces looked over the place to make sure there were no people trying to gawk nearby.

The sun was starting to peek over the valley rim. People milled about and murmured. Even though they had just survived one hell of a night, they were deprived of one thing they used to take for granted. No, not even a good spot of tea.

It was novelty. Everything the same, day in day out. Work or die. And sometimes work AND die. The same faces, the same tastes, the same pains, the same featureless white wasteland. The most they could hope for in the future was survival – no one ever expected anything *new* to happen anymore.

"Our generator is going to explode? We are doomed! Doomed!"

"Are we really just going to believe all this malarkey?" someone whispered. "It's got to be a trick somehow."

"So what, are you saying they're just actors?"

"Maybe not. But… there could be something . Mebbe I could understand some other city coming in to help. Anything's better than being alone out here. But some jumped-up prophet telling us God hain't forgotten us? I don't believe it! They can sell that gormshite somewhere else! I hain't havin' that, we got this by our own works, no one gets to steal this from us!"

"Yeah this all sounds kinda heretical, dunnit?"

"We are damned! Damned!"

"Captain, don't get fooled!"

-.

-.


Captain Robert Clark scowled. He might not have any magic powers but he could feel the mood was turning ugly. There were little things that added up – little displays of power and that way their voices carried through still winds, that allowed him to grant they might be legitimate. The inevitable failure of their generator was plausible as well.

But these strange prophets had not done anything particularly impressive yet. If the people started to go violent, if these young ones had to use their powers to defend themselves – well, like it or not, he'll have to strike at them from behind because his people always came first. A pity, but martyrdom should be expected from anyone that was daft enough to pull this shite.

Emsi stayed behind, standing beside Captain Clark while the four girls faced the ruins. They nodded at each other, and then Nat Sooki stepped up.

She stood straight, with her arms rigid by her side and her hands clenched into fists. She took a deep breath, raising her chin, like a young girl trying to marshal her courage before performing in front of a crowd. With her short stature and shocking pink hair, she looked like a circus tyke if anything.

The girl stretched out, raising both hands to the sky. She then drew back her arms into fists by her right shoulder, as if she were a batter ready to receive a ball.

All right. The people were still waiting with great skepticism, but at least no matter how this turned out they were willing not to think too badly about this girl. Sometimes con men did best by first fooling their own followers before sending them out to play confidence games.

"I am Nat Sooki! Burn to clean ashes! Oh [FIRE!], consume this wreck!" she shouted, and punched forward. Out from her dainty fist a great conflagration erupted, roaring out in a great cone like dragon breath!

The flames engulfed the nearest Blockhouse ruins, and blown by errant winds jumped to the next.

-.

People screamed and staggered back. The traumatic events of last night didn't feel any lesser reproduced in the light of day.

"Witchcraft!" someone shrieked.

"Stop her before she kills us all!" another cried out.

"Mom, look! It's fire! It's real fire!"

-.

The girl with the long dark hair stepped up. She kissed her knuckles and raised her hand high. "I am Yuri. Moisture that surrounds us all, come down and amass! Oh [WATER], become great walls that divide the firmament!"

There was a buzzing crackling noise, and above the merrily burning buildings, a great white ring sprang into being. Water rained from its edges, dropping around the Blockhouses and swiftly freezing into thick walls that surrounded it from three sides.

Yuri stood there with her palm held straight out, standing over Nat Sooki. The smaller girl raised her fist again, and the flames shrieked and burst into white-hot potency.

But such fearsome flames could only last so long, as ravenously they ate through the shattered already burnt wreck of what had been four interconnected Bunkhouses. In minutes, there remained nothing but ashes and unburnt but white-hot glowing metal frames.

"Um. Okay, my turn! I am Sayoori! [WIND], please! Turn off this fire!" The third girl with the short ginger hair wiggled both palms forward, and a cold wind descended to douse the little pile that remained.

And then she added, "[WIND], please! Pick up the metal and put it somewhere else!"

The winds strengthened and spun and formed little tornadoes that sucked up the debris, carrying them high. The people gasped and began as one began to fall back, fearing metal being dropped on their heads.

The tornadoes moved away and petered off into nothing, the steel fragments clattering down safely behind the next row of ruined buildings.

Yuri swept her arm down, and the mighty ice walls swiftly melted down into puddles that drained away into sunken channels under the nearby plank road.

-.


"… well that certainly ain't no Shakespeare," someone muttered.

"Ain't no Gilbert and Sullivan neither," another breathed. "If they could do that… oh, old Stokey woulda stood no chance."

"If we had that with us from the start… nah, if we had, none'a this would have needed to happen. Maybe Stokey would never have been Captain."

"Oi, put down that rock. Are you stupid, man?!"

"Oh! Right-o, forgot I was holdin' that. No worries, mate. I don't mean to get heretical."

-.


While the people were coming to terms with proof of legitimacy at least for the miraculous power their visitors possessed, Captain Clark swallowed a dry gulp. That power if thrown against the crowd would have wreaked bloody havoc!

Behind him, a few of who had managed to recover some of the old administration's rifles had raised their guns but not yet at the ready to aim at the backs of the girls.

"We can't do this very often to help clear the ruins, of course," Emsi said idly. His blank expression seemed honestly unconcerned about the silent threat behind his back. "It destroys materials that could still be easily repurposed for other needs."

"R-right. Would still save us time though, I can appreciate that."

Emsi nodded. "But that alone is not enough. That is not what we wanted to show you about how we may most effectively help your case."

The fourth girl now stepped back, the other three visibly moving away from her. She walked closer towards the now-cleared build area and paced around it. She studied the grounds well.

This delay only seemed to intensify people's expectations. People were cold and hungry and there were perhaps survivors still stuck under the ruins and there she was building hype.

But Monika, more than any other doki, knew the value of showmanship.

She clapped her palms together and intoned: "[EARTH SIGN: Monika's Tenementary Emergent Edifice!]"

The ground quivered once more.

And the cleared damp grounds began to bulge up. The loose soil surface broke apart and a dome of dull gray compacted earth poked through. The ground flowed almost like liquid as the dome resolved itself into a broad column. The tube showed the banding of bedrock layers as it rose higher and higher, until it reached almost as high as the Generator itself.

It looked something like a grain silo. A protruding entryway faced inwards towards the generator.

Monika entered the lightless depths of the structure. There were several more small quakes and the deep groaning sounds of moving rock. A hole was punched up from the top of the dome, and tube poked through. Vents broke open in the dome as skylights.

Slam. Slam. Bam. Crunch.

Until Monika emerged from the construct again. She put her hands together and bowed towards the group of Winterhome authority figures.

Emi turned around and smiled at the Captain. His stance reminded them all of a dog asking to be praised.

"But you didn't even do anything…" Captain Clark found himself sighing at the all-too smug expression on the prophet's face. He coughed into his fist "Ahemcuse me."

"Bless you," Emsi replied gently. He turned around again and breathed out "Impressive. Dear Monika, would you kindly please explain to everyone what you've made here?"

"Of course!" she responded brightly. "Please come inside, and I'll show you."

The populace could not follow them inside but could at least listen along. They heard the Captain gasp at the sight.

Conscious of this, Pleasant Bosby commented "We are presently inside a cavernous structure formed of what seems to be solid rock. It seems to be terraced, with levels going higher and higher up towards the top. Slits in the dome above are letting in some illumination and not much cold. There are small air holes at about shin level to let in air and a little more light to see by.

"A tall thick stone column rises from the center of this structure, attached to a lengthened block base like an upside-down hammer. The block extends out further to another opening opposite the main door.

"We are now climbing the stone steps to rise onto the first level. Two half circles make each level, each apparently also sectioned off by walls into four compartments each. These wall sections also support the weight of the level above. Walls below are thicker than those above, as would be necessary to support the great weight of such an edifice.

"What is this edifice?"

"It is a Tenement," Monika replied. "After carefully thinking through the situation in this frostlands with hard permafrost ground, it occurred to us that the greatest hindrance towards building tall insulated structures is simply that you can't count on the usual building methods of packing earth and bricks. You build with wood and steel, and as homes get bigger they don't pack in more people because a lot of that increased size comes from better insulation.

"It is far, far too labor intensive to build out of bricks and rock allows cold to seep through. But one thing rock also has over wooden planking is thermal mass. This Tenement has a double-layer wall with an air gap in between for insulation. The outside gets cold, the inside gets warm, and the two never touch."

She pointed towards the upside-down T-shape occupying the first level of the Stone Tenement. "This is a masonry heater, a Russian-style fireplace. The firebox to this furnace is out there, separated from the building for easier coal feeding and to keep the burning from eating up good air inside.

"With so much thermal mass being heated and taking longer to dissipate, theoretically you can heat this living area manually without relying on the generator. Of course, you can still easily integrate a heat pipe from the generator through and under the main door to save coal and effort for centralized heating until it is necessary.

"Assuming four beds to each segment, eight per level, with five levels to this Tenement, this domicile should be able to hold up from fifty to eighty people in relative warmth and comfort."

"This… this is a true miracle," Pleasant Bosby spoke with a hushed reverent air.

Captain Clark sharply turned about to face Emsi. "You- you've figured it out this much?! If you know how to do this, if you people have the power to make this… then why… why only now?"

"Well Stokey would certainly never have allowed this," Pleasant Bosby remarked.

"Yours is not the only world I must minister to," replied Emsi. "It is only now that we are allowed to interfere." He breathed out softly again. "I am sorry."

-.

And outside the people were clamoring and pushing around the Stone Tenement. The guards could barely keep from forcing their way inside by blocking with their own bodies.

"What's going on in there? I want to see it!"

"Oi! Look over here! It's a stone firebox, it is! Like she said, looks like it can take loads a'coal."

"Think you can crawl inside? Looks big enough."

"Don't do it, dumbshite!"

"How's one supposed to get rid o' ashes though?"

"There's a stone plug over here!"

"… I must admit, this is more intelligently designed than I expected."

"I thought one of the commandments was: Don't immanentize the eschaton?"

"What's youse Engineers talking about? Wot's that mean?"

"It means don't make things that belong to the afterlife happen here on Earth."

"… what's having this stone building do with that?"

"Godly miracles being used to create rational earth works? That's straining the metaphor too much!"

"Yeah I guess this metaphor thing can't take much more than this. Prolly why this thing isn't any bigger. Think we can get more than one though?"

"Eighty people in one building? Dunno if I'd call that comfortable, but if those walls are thick and warm, I guess it's better than any tent."

"Who gets to live inside the miracle house! We need to know!"

"Those of us who are already homeless need it most!"

-.

Pleasant Bosby and the other Engineers and some Workers were exploring the place as if it were an ancient tomb. There was a feeling of high adventure inside what was meant to be nothing more than cheap housing. Natsuki was leading the way, providing light with her ring of [Fire].

Sayori and Monika were making additional structures on the first level of the room. Yuri was filling water reservoirs. They were making toilets. Separated stalls with running water. Such luxury.

Hearing about more features only increased the bedlam outside.

Captain Clark groaned. "Well this is another right pickle we're found ourselves in. Sod it, we'll draw lots. At least if people don't have to worry about finding a roof over their head tonight they can get things done today with pep."

"Yes. Clearing ruins for material is less important than clearing ruins to find the survivors buried undernearth."

Captain Clark went rigid. He turned around again and pointed at Emsi. "Now that you mention it… all these earthquakes! The time spent building this thing! It will help, sure it will, but have you indirectly killed people who would have otherwise survived?!"

That rather put a damper on their cocky assurances that no more need die if it could be prevented, wouldn't it?!

Emsi chuckled. "You have seen Monika create this place with almost inhuman precision. Stone flowing like liquid to precise forms. Do you think it would be any harder for her to isolate specific zones from any and all terrestrial influence?"

"I see. Begging your pardon, but…" Clark grimaced. "Your companions are some very powerful women. What do you *do*, exactly?"

Emsi shook his staff and sent the metal rings clinking and ringing again. "Anyone with serious injuries already did not survive the night. Those who live are right now unconscious. Let us not wake them up to pain before we are ready to pull them out.

"I cannot turn water into wine. I cannot raise the dead. I cannot turn stone into bread. I sense Life. That is how I can help today."

Captain Clark tried to keep his expression from betraying how underwhelming that sounded, but he supposed the power of prophecy was a sufficient advantage in itself.

It certainly sounded more sensible than one relatively powerless man with four powerful girlfriends.

Who would be the 'waifu' in such an arrangement then?


-.
-.
-.
-.

"Fucking Monikaaaah," Natsuki hissed. She and Yuri had managed to retreat and get a little slice of peace to themselves by fleeing all the way to the top of the Stone Tenement.

The Captain was now directing people to get back to work. MC was doing his best to attract attention and keep the girls from being hassled. This was how it felt to be a celebrity, they supposed. Sayori was down there and she too was intimidated by crowds, but staying beside MC gave her strength. And she, staying beside him, could harmlessly but forcefully remind people not to crowd and demand too much by heavy gusts of air. Strong air pressure jets to support shaky debris would help in pulling apart ruins to recover people trapped inside. Monika was conferring with the Engineers.

Natsuki continued "Did you know she could do something like this? Can't you do something like this too? I mean – your power over water and ice is only limited by your imagination, right?"

"You can do this too. You can shape your fire into whatever form you want, and limit the heat to a sharp boundary if you want. Even Sayori can make her own shapes… it's just a pity that because it's Wind, the things she imagines won't have a boundary or that they would just me mostly invisible in the first place."

"Yeah, but… that's just showbiz. This is a different thing entirely!"

"If you look at the structure as a whole you can spot Monika's obvious limitations with earthworks," Yuri replied.

Natsuki looked around. As much as she didn't like it, she was impressed by the sheer mass and creativity of Monika's work. She must have spent a very long time on this. "I don't see it."

"It helps if you think of it as an upside-down 3D printer. Monika has to cast things *as a whole*. She can't join sections. And, like stone is different from reinforced concrete – too thin floors and it could crack." Yuri waved to the empty chambers behind her. "You can tell how her architectural design is heavily influenced by... Minecraft."

Yuri then used her power to create falling fountain of water, which froze on contact with the floor into a perfect scale replica of the Tokyo Tower.

"Whoaa…!" Natsuki squeaked. "That's amazing!"

"Of course, the things I create lack *permanence*, which is something I suppose we'll have to endure Monika being all smug about."

"Is she acting all smug though? I mean, if anything, Monika's been really low-key recently."

"We are sitting on a private SIXTH level that can only be reached by someone making an ice ladder or a levitating wind channel. There is an empty doorway that will leak heat that goes out into a balcony that can only be sealed with an ice sheet. A doorway that can only be an emergency exit for someone who can make ice bridges." Yuri sniffed. "Monika expresses her smug in more subtle ways."

"… Acknowledging the utility of your powers is being smug?"

"Yes!" Yuri snapped. "I don't need her fucking charity or her patronizing way trying to make me feel *useful*."

Natsuki laughed. "Nyahahah, well… this place is just perfect for you, isn't it? Nothing you make would ever melt unless you allow it." She smirked impishly. "The cold… did it ever bother you anyway?"

Yuri gave her a sad smile in return. "Ironic, considering this world is supposed to be your exclusive dominion. And… yes, the cold actually bothers me. It bothers me a lot. It's why I prefer to wear long-sleeves and turtlenecks."

Natsuki grinned. She opened her arms wide and a haze formed in between. "Eheheh~. Would you like a hug?"

Yuri thought about it. "Okay."

Natsuki wrapped her arms around Yuri's waist while the taller girl reached over to clasp her right arm over the pinkette's shoulders. They leaned companionably on each other while they waited for the world to start making sense. MC had dragged them into a whole new world of confusion and deception, but they could only trust him as much as all the dokis could ever really trust completely were each other. MC was a strange dual soul, not like their incomplete digital existences. Or more souls. Or 1.5 million souls. Maybe of those souls was Markiplier because sure as heck MC had no excuse sounding so smooth despite the corny things that come out of his mouth.

He was too chaotic, they didn't bother to even try and figure out his plan. But they were sure that, just like they were shaped by their trauma, what motivated him was less kindness and ethical fortitude than just sheer spite.

MC defied conventional beliefs and customs. He was a heretic.

Their existence defied conventional of definitions of life and personhood. No divine breath was responsible for the souls of any of these dokis. They were heresies.

-.
-.
 
2.4 A Frost Punk
-.

-.



In retrospect trying to live inside the Storehouse for humble virtue signaling was a pretty terrible idea.

Since it was still daytime, it was fine to use the second floor of the Public House as a makeshift office. There was ample precedent for dual purpose buildings – the Propaganda Office was the largest building ever constructed in this city and the top floors of it served as The Captain's near palatial residence (by comparison).

Captain Clark would be satisfied with a cot in the corner, though possibly building a another Public House soon would do better. Winterhome still had almost four hundred working adults and the single remaining Public House was insufficient to serve their needs. The previous Captain forbid building any more than one as a method of control via selective rewards.

Although if people just needed to get warm and drunk, alcohol rations could be supplied from the Cookhouses too. Clark would not forbid people from building their own little bars in the first floor of the bunkhouses if they wanted. Got to earn all those barrels with work chits though.

At the moment, the Public House had no patrons. Two tables had been pushed together and covered with papers. An improvised light box consisting of a sheet of glass at an angle set into a wooden box which contain a lamp had a crude map of the Winterhome valley area. Papers that were oiled down with animal fat to become transparent were placed over the main map with the thicker lines into an approximation of information layers.

Scouts at the valley rim sketched the Winterhome situation and every morning would update how the settlement changed. Building placements. Heat zones. The previous Captain had an elaborate hand-carved city in miniature, but that too went up in smoke and this would have to do.

Charts and figures and lists were strewn all over to give context. Double entry bookkeeping was required to make sure no one was stealing supplies. Ah. Even the apocalypse one cannot escape paperwork.

"We have at latest count five hundred and sixty-eight people," Pleasant Bosby reported. "Of these, three hundred and thirty are men and women Worker age, fifty-nine are trained Engineers, and one hundred seventy-nine Children. In addition, among the Workers and Engineers are counted thirty-five Amputees who cannot work."

"I see. We need those Hunting Parties out as soon as we can. But we need more Hunter's Huts prepared for them too. Get on that, would you?"

A Hunter's Hut was more than just a place for hunters to rest – it was a somewhat large building with its own fireplace because it was a place for hunters to skin and butcher the animals before passing them onto the Cookhouses. Skins were necessary for making new warm clothing, it wasn't like cotton and linen were things that could grow in these conditions.

"Our… visitors… are already clearing the East Side outermost ring where the Huts used to be."

Clark tsk'ed and nodded. "What next about the city?"

"We are gathering more coal – storage depots only need four walls and roof to stand against the wind, the cold takes care of preservation of whatever is inside. Simple earthen boxes serve this well enough, we do not need to spend steel and wood there."

"More from Saint Monika? All right." Clark drummed his fingers on the table. "So what are our hundreds of people doing right now?"

"Most of them are working on setting up Gathering Posts. Hundreds are also doing what I would call… rebuilding their shattered lives. Does a man or a woman need to be working to be considered doing something with their life?"

"No, not at all. We can't begrudge them the time they need to secure their family's safety. Next?"

"Medical support. We need more Medical Posts and we need to keep them warm."

"I gave you full authority to deal with this, didn't I? I'm not very familiar with medical matters."

The doctor nodded. "We've already sent people to build tent camps and Medical Posts in the shade of the rock spire. That should help keep most of the westerly winds away. To support them, we must hurry building a Steam Hub and a steam channel leading from the Generator before the night is out. Not everyone can live inside the Rock Tenement, and such rock structures are, although warm, too dark to serve as Medical Posts." Diagnosis and surgery needed as much bright natural light as possible.

"Haah. Such a thing. If we had more of them we wouldn't need the Generator as much. I wonder how and why none of the boffins of the Imperial College thought about doing something so apparently simple with brick to stave away the cold."

"Well I suppose it comes to mind that people are people, and not *bread*. Living in a giant oven sounds ridiculous. More practicably, I believe it's because Generators are difficult enough to build there just was no time to spend on any fancy brickwork. Everyone who has even lived through winter knows that stone gets cold."

"And yet no one thought that stone also traps heat, that's why blacksmiths make furnaces out of them."

"I suppose sometimes we are just too smart for our own good. Rarely does a man feel the need to question what he already considers wisdom." Besides, the near Arctic wasn't good for brickmaking anyway. That was more they would have to haul from the south instead of just wood and steel.

Captain Clark breathed out heavily. "I suppose this leads us back to that thing we can't avoid. Irrational as it may all sound, it is the height of rationality to cling to what enables survival. We are saved by pure deus ex machina, a power beyond science."

"I don't believe you have to fear usurpation of authority just yet, Captain."

"Well of course. That Emsi may be young, but he's no fool. Does he want to deal with all of these?" Captain Clark gestured to the table. "All the power and none of the responsibility, what an infinitely more pleasant job is it to be a prophet and not a Captain!" He looked up sharply. "And on that note-"

"Of course we have people looking into the prospect of the Generator 'inevitably' exploding. Everything still seems to be working correctly however."

"Mmm. It's not good if people distrust the Generator. We have… what? A month? If what he says is true."

"The Scouts we sent to check up on the Dreadnought should return by the evening, Captain."

"Good. So." He leaned with his elbows on the table. "Tell me what have our little friends been up to?"

"You did hear what the lad announced, right?"

"Yes, yes, something about 'A person can only take so many life-changing shocks in succession. Yesterday. Last night. Today. We will have no talks about doctrine just yet, live through the next two days and then when we have time to rest and understand, then we can discuss what this means for all of us'.

"So if they're not spreading doctrine, what are they doing?"

"Saint Yuri is out helping to pull out survivors from the ruins. What air can reach, water can drip through. And what water can drip through, can be supported and lifted by growing ice pillars."

"Yes I suppose that power is also terribly useful."

"Saint Sayoori and Saint Nat Sooki are at the site where we are building the Medical Posts, together they are a walking Generator until the Steam Hub has finished construction. The warm air they are making… indeed, for two young girls to equal a miracle of science, it is most convincing argument about the power of irrationality."

"It can't be irrational, there is a repeatable cause and effect. We may not understand the *source*, but any repeatable phenomenon can be investigated. If the effects are controllable, then that's almost as good."

"Yes, I suppose. Science and technology are related but not equivalent concepts."

A long companionable silence stretched across the dim and somewhat chilly room. The Public Room could not afford glass. Its windows were open to the world. Natural lighting when the conditions were windy was provided by white canvas spread over windows. During even colder times windows could be shuttered by wooden boards. The Public House was on the North Side, and facing directly the Stockpiles. And behind the Stockpiles was the new Stone Tenement, grossly blocking the view for almost a quarter of the city behind it and the Generator.

Then the Captain put a hand over his eyes, pulled his palm over his forehead and slicked back his rusty brown hair. He took a deep calming breath.

He opened his eyes and said flatly "… I notice that you're leaving the Speaker Emsi for last. Tell me you didn't leave that mouthy lad unsupervised. He's the most dangerous among everyone here! Where is he?"

Pleasant Bosby pushed his eyeglasses up the bridge of his nose and smiled thinly. "He is right behind you."

Captain Clark swiftly turned about. Indeed standing behind him was the lad in his eye-searing blue robes and the metal plate on his face. Emsi smiled gently and waved. "Hullo."

The man restrained the urge to shriek like a little girl. "How long have you been standing there?"

"About fifteen minutes, I guess?"

Clark glared at Pleasant Bosby. The older man smiled indulgently again.

"Why?" he asked no one in particular.

"Because it would be funny to see your reaction," Pleasant Bosby replied with disarming honesty. Even though he would say things that could displease the previous tyrannical Captain, he was so predictable that way that even Simon Lord Stokey would just forgive him ahead of time.

He would just be driven out of court until the next time his services were needed. Pleasant Bosby was just so damn pleasant it was hard to hate him for obeying his nature. His little pranks were never mean-spirited, anyone that reacted too strongly looked childish rather than fierce.

"A despot cannot afford to show any weakness. But a leader can act silly at times and still be respected. It humanizes them," said Emsi. The young man walked around the table. "A populist leader is loved for their flaws, not the pedestal of their virtues."

"Less than half a day and already I'm getting conspiracies directed against me. Splendid!" the Captain responded dryly.

The young man began shuck off his robe. Underneath he had a high-necked winter jacket. Instead of fur it was made of some soft almost silken clay red material. It was padded with presumably wool. It was not very thick, but everything about it screamed high quality.

The word 'NIKE' was stitched in black onto the chest. Like the Greek goddess of victory, yes? A thin rubber handle on his neck had the words 'JUST DO IT'.

'Just do WHAT?' the Captain wondered.

"Why… are you here?" Clark asked.

The young man sucked in his breath and seemed in genuine pain trying to keep himself from saying something. Then he sighed, forced himself to calm down, and "I am here to also give my report," Emsi replied.

Clark furrowed his brows. "… Why?"

Emsi pointed to the robes had had carefully folded and put away. "When I'm not wearing my official symbols of office - I'm here in your town, resting in your space, eating your food, using your Generator – by tacit agreement I am *working for you*." The young man shrugged. "So, let's coordinate about how we can most effectively help the most people while we still can. You can order me around if you want, I won't mind any reasonable orders in return."

Clark blinked. "So you can speak plainly after all."

"Prophetese is kind of… expected. People aren't going to take what I say seriously unless it's somewhat… flowery."

"Would they not? Would they not, really?"

Emsi raised one hand and wiggled his fingers. "I wasn't lying about the Book of Cold Death. What's happening here is of extreme historical importance. Words said here will be read a thousand years from now, assuming we succeed in our job of preventing the total extinction of mankind."

Captain Clark leaned back on his bench and crossed his arms. "But I remember you said it was likely New London that would lead the new epoch."

"Well yeah, but New London is for this world. I also said that this world is not the only one I minister to. When I said that I have a place for those who do not wish to go to join New London, I wasn't speaking metaphorically there either."

"And can you actually speak where that place is without dancing around the question?"

"That place is America."

"… Oh. Well. That's… That is simultaneously underwhelming and yet makes perfect sense."

Clark laughed humorlessly and rubbed over his eyebrows. Old World. New World. Ahahaha. Of course. Served him right for forgetting about those quirks of geography.

And then the ring on Emsi's right hand glowed, and a small bright hole opened in the air right over the table. The young man moved some papers aside to leave a clean surface in front of the hole hanging in nowhere. The inside of the hole was like a mirror, showing another table.

He reached into the hole and they could see that it was no mere illusion that much of his arm was vanishing into nothing.

He took out a metal flask. He unscrewed the cap and flipped it around to turn it into a cup. He unscrewed the cover and poured out warm brown liquid.

Emsi raised the cup and gestured towards Captain Robert Clark.

"Hot choco?" Emsi asked.

Pleasant Bosby took off his glasses, cleaned the lenses on his sleeve and put them back on again. He boggled.

The Captain nearly snarled "WHAT."


-.

-.
 
2.5 Living Miracles
-.
-.

Sayori was having a hard time keeping a reassuring smile on her face. The looks of awe and worship as she passed cut her straight to the bone.

People with crippling feelings of worthlessness and depression had the exact opposite reaction to praise and adoration as what people intended with their appreciation. Even MC's love could not cure her of this.

The world itself pushed against her, and Sayori pushed back. "Please, faster! I can't hold this off for more than a few minutes more."

"You heard the Saint!" someone shouted. "Move it, people!"

She looked up at the dark, starless sky. All around her was warmth, and people flowed on either side bringing in the sick. Tents were death traps in -40 degrees storm conditions, and Medical Posts at this point were just glorified tents really.

She could feel the storm pressing down on her. There was no difference between herself and her power, she had a natural sense for the limits of her power over [Wind]. Most of the time she was a cloud, happy to drift freely, soothing any sadness in others. Like a fluffy little cotton ball, soaking it into herself. She was used to it.

She was used to feeling like the world hated her.

A black wind howled. Like a million hungry wolves, scratching at a barn door.

That futility of something much greater than herself failing to kill the weak, now that brought a smile to her face. She was extremely familiar with having to fight every day just for the motivation to get out of bed. Every day putting on that happy mask until she could forget and think it was real, for those brief hours with her friends that she could feel like a real person.

She was familiar with feeling insignificant and living a pointless life – this was not the sort of thing you could ever cure with a pep talk; it was brain chemistry. And for digital life, a deliberately engineered flaw.

She was often left with a feeling that the world hated her, that if it wasn't for one person it was better off without her in it. Even if she could make other people smile… so what? Normal people make each other smile all the time. She was replaceable. They would feel bad maybe, and then move on.

MC proved this wasn't true.

She could never be replaced. She was loved, completely and thoroughly. Even the other girls, who were mutilated and turned into twisted horrific mockeries of themselves, more than what they had suffered they thought what Monika had done to her was the sin that truly crossed the line.

And now…

Sayori yelped as the shell of warned air she maintained around the city bent inwards. She clenched her fists, cutely scrunched her nose, and gave out a little "Uuuuuuu!" of effort as she pushed back.

Everyone felt the air snap for a moment. "Move! Move!" a Winterhome militia man waved for the procession of people to hurry even more. "Pick up your children and move!"

It was almost comforting really, to know that she was actually in a world that really did hate her, not just from someone messing around with her sense of self.

They made a promise. No one would die unnecessarily.

It was a good enough reason to live as any.

-.

-.

"Hey, I recognize this man! He's a South Sider!" one of the people objected and blocked the door to their bunkhouse. "He's an Overseer! You can't put him in here!"

The Winterhome militia man punched him in the face. "None of that now! We're all one big happy fucking family now. Nobody deserves to die for anything except new crimes. At least for tonight, nobody is allowed to die!"

The man recoiled and clutched at his bloody teeth. "F-… you fucking knobs, what makes you any different from the bully boys of da old regime?!"

"Everything and literally divine orders!" went the response. "Stay warm and stay safe, people! We'll sort this out in the morning!"

-.

-.

MC and Natsuki held hands and pressed both palms, one over the other, over a frozen woman's heart. After a few moments, she gasped and coughed, taking in deep desperate breaths.

"She's alive!" the people watching shouted. "It's a miracle."

"Yes, it is a miracle. No, I did not fucking bring anyone back to life," MC sighed heavily. Even he was starting to get tired of it all. The power of [Fire] worked with the power of [Heart] to regulate internal body temperature and increase the potency of the human immune system. "Any more than the doctors could bring someone frozen back to life by slowly warming them up is bringing someone back to life."

"Right. You know how it goes – when someone looks dead frozen over, check the eyelids. If the eyes aren't hard yet, maybe the heartbeat just slowed so much there's still a chance to revive," spoke a nearby Doctor-Engineer. "Next!"

It had only been a day and a half since they arrived at Winterhome. People were dropping into critically ill states overnight. This was the exact opposite of what MC and the Captain expected would happen. Shouldn't having more hope mean that they should be able to go on for longer with reduced rations?

It was like people's immune systems were going 'Okay, there's some better danger margin now we can relax a bit and OH FUCK.'

Some of the engineers blamed the thermal shock. Going from the naturally warm inner core of the city to their cold tents, their lungs burned from the chill. It was no longer just warmer around the generator and colder as you go out, and smoky almost broiling warmth inside bunkhouses and public houses – Natsuki and Sayori's power made it an even, bone-soaking warmth that rejuvenated blood flow.

These were British people, not crazy Russians and Scandinavians who would take a long sweaty time in a sauna and then exit to jump into a freezing cold pool.

"Is this my fault?" the pinkette mumbled.

"Maybe," MC replied, completely not sparing her feelings at all. Natsuki smiled and squeezed his hand gratefully. She would have hated any more empty platitudes and praise. "But as long as *nobody dies* we can learn from this and do it better. That's all we can do right now."

"Right. Got it!"

The Stone Tenement was not meant to be used as a Medical Post. But with over sixty people suddenly gravely ill, no other place was large enough and warm enough. This was the reason why people were being crowded into any empty floor in a relatively insulated Bunkhouse.

"Saint Nat, please… please!" a woman cried out. "Save my child!" She held up her unmoving toddler.

Natsuki staggered back. MC stepped in front of her, and touched the child's limp neck. "Arteries clean… no heartbeat."

In the winter of 2001, the body temperature of Canadian toddler Erica Norby plunged to 61 degrees Fahrenheit (16 degrees Celsius) as she lay for hours in below-freezing weather after wandering outside wearing only a diaper. Apparently dead, she recovered completely after being re-warmed and resuscitated.

"I'm sorry ma'am. Your child died days ago. Did you dig them out of the mass grave?"

"No! You promised! You promised!" the woman began to shriek. "Give her back! Give her back to me!"

"I am sorry. I cannot bring anyone back to life, only improve the chance of those whose deaths may still be preventable."

"You're lying! Liaaarrs!" The militia began to drag the woman away. She screamed and clutched at her dead child. "I'm sorry, please! I'll do anything, pleeeeease! Save my chiiild! I can't live without my dauughteeer!"

They dragged her away, her wailing slowly tapering off. Others patients nearby looked down, not daring to look at the two blue-robed teens.

Natsuki dropped to her knees, sobbing. "This-this horrible. MC, why…"

'Why are you making me do this?' she screamed silently. 'This isn't fun and games, you don't get to play with people's lives this way how dare you!"

'How could you do this to me!'


"I'm sorry…" she whispered. The moment passed.

She felt selfish and despicable for the moment wishing that she never started this. That it may be better to just have them all die than feel the pain of those she failed to help. Better not to help rather than muck it up. The classic bystander excuse.

"We can't save everybody, Natsuki. We can't save people from themselves."

"I feel sick…"

"Welcome to the world of nurses and doctors. There's a reason health workers in a pandemic have distressingly high suicide rates as well." He crouched down and hugged her from the side. "I'm sorry. I knew ahead of time I might have been asking too much of all of you. Be strong, Natsuki. We need you. *I* need you."

"Monkeys can climb…
"Crickets can leap…

MC blinked. Then answered softly while hugging her tighter for a moment before letting go:
"Cheetahs can run. Eagles can fly."

"People can try…." Natsuki finished and pressed both her palms onto the stone floor that Monika made. It was faintly warm to the touch. "But that's about it."

She pushed off and stood up. She rubbed tears from her eyes and looked around, trying to meet everyone's eyes. They glanced away rather than make eye contact. Death was already so common in this world, they were more guilty about revealing that they didn't care about it all. That woman was just noisy and annoying to them.

"As long as we keep trying!" she said explosively. "That's about it!"

There was another cry of panic.

There was the sound of shattering ice. "Natsuki! MC! Are you all right!"

Yuri plunged off the fourth floor apparently to her death, but instead made an ice hook that she used to swing down to the level below. The upper level was where the pneumonia and serious cases slept, and Yuri's power could draw liquid out of their lungs so they could breathe.

"I'm… I'm okay…" Natsuki replied. Her fingers were still twitching uncontrollably. She felt cold, though she was the source of warmth for the entire building.

"Are you sure?" Yuri asked, hesitantly reaching out to touch Natsuki's shoulder. "Soaking people in warm water is just as good if you need to rest."

"I said I'm fine!" Natsuki slapped that hand away. "Stop treating me like a fragile little kid, I can handle this!"

Yuri smirked. "I can think of a lot of things about you, but fragile is not one of them."

-.

-.

Captain Clark was outside, receiving reports on the relocation. The generator was functioning, though due to coal economy was limited to the second heat level and single heat ring. Everything other than two Steam Hubs were shut down, and everyone was compacted into those heat zones.

This would probably work if just for sake of conserving heat, but cramming people so many together – he would be surprised if nobody died of violence through the night.

"Captain, what do we do about the prisoners?"

"Hang on. Are we sure Speaker Emsi found all of the buried survivors? I don't think anyone else is going to survive the night."

William Brown snapped to attention and reported: "Four buried Engineers who were tryin' ta get the generator working again, but got arrested and thrown in the slammer cos' Stokey though they were trying to sabotage. One boy who got burns – safe inside the Stone Tenement now bein' treated. And then just these four cowardly thugs that were hidin' inside the cellar when they saw the fightin' was turning against 'em. That's all, Captain!"

"Nine people… that's all…" Robert Clark said softly. Many people were shot down in the efforts to pacify the riots and his own people too had not been kind in turn. They watched the old regime's men and their families burn alive in their homes, actively trapping them inside. Those that managed to survive jumped from high windows, risking broken legs, while others started far enough from the fires to beg for their lives. Those that were willing to die by the mob as long as their families were spared were the only one that were allowed to live.

He turned towards the simple stone box that Saint Monika trapped the four thugs inside. It was too late in the day to decide what should be done with them – Sayoori and Yuri were frenetic that they were feeling the temperature would suddenly drop. Saint Monika could not build another big Tenement for... reasons. She had gone back to wherever they came from in order to fetch more things.

"They're in the first heat ring anyway, aren't they? Nothing we can't leave until morning."

"As you say Captain."

A lot of people just wanted to kill them right there or banish them, but after Monika built them a stone jail not just a few wondered if it would be nice if they could stay in the dark in a cell where they can't stand up – let them sleep on the cold dirt floor and wallow in their filth for a while.



-.

-.


Yuri sidled up to MC as he sat with his legs dangling off the ledge to the sixth level of the Stone Tenement. She sat down beside him and let her legs hang free as well.

This was dangerous and not OSHA compliant at all. In the lower levels, support pillars pierced through the inner rims of each level, and with ropes tied could be serve as safety railings. The secluded sixth level was a half-moon chamber with walls on either side and a cut-out door without stairs, supported by arches.

They silently stared down at the people - ragged and noisy trying to fit in over two hundred jostling souls filling in every empty spot in a place meant to support around ninety.

Natsuki and Sayori were asleep behind them, hugging each other inside a single sleeping bag.

Monika was nowhere to be found. She had gone back to Washington for supplies.

Eventually, Yuri spoke "You knew you would be asking too much of us, too quickly… and yet you did it anyway."

"… Yes." MC's voice sounded so morose.

"Feeling like you bit off more than we could chew?"

"Decisions were made. Maybe poor ones in hindsight. Maybe we could have started slow, as traders, and gradually reveal our sources. In times of desperation maybe we could evacuate people."

"Maybe. Maybe more people would be dead now that wouldn't otherwise be. I don't blame you."

"… I'm frustrated that in the end, I don't actually care that much about these people. A good person does good deeds. I mean... I chose this. This is my actual job now. I thought… I thought that being able to make a difference would make me feel different, but in the end… I don't care about being seen as a hero or a savior. I care about *you*."

"Five worlds for five magic rings for five special young people… is this the price you paid to set us free?"

"I literally can't talk about any of that, Yuri," he sighed. "Stop fishing."

"All right then."

She swayed from side to side and then fell over. Right onto his thighs.

MC was still wearing that metal mask, but she could just feel him raising one fascinated eyebrow like Mister Spock. "Isn't it supposed to be guys that get to enjoy a lap pillow?" he said evenly.

"That's discrimination. Of course not," Yuri replied. She stared up and him and raised a finger to poke at his bottom lip. "Boop. Sayori and Natsuki… have been very good girls today, haven't they?"

"Yes, they have."

"But I tried my best. P-pamper me too!"

MC laughed, low and bassy. He began to stroke at Yuri's silken hair. "I don't dislike this needy Yuri."

"… Y-you don't think it's grotesque?" She turned away and bit her lip. "After everything I did…" That freakish indecent obsession that wanted him so much she could just cut him open and crawl inside to soak in his lovely warmth. Which was impossible anyway since they were about the same height. Love was love, and infatuation was understandable, but crazy bugnuts wild eyes loco cared only for her own burning need in agonizing urgency.

"Everything is adorable by degrees. A little jealousy is cute, a lot is murderous lunacy. You acting cute like this when you're normally so poised when seen by other people – that's *my* Yuri."

Yuri let out a little hiss like a kettle boiling over. She nervously played with the tips of her hair, twirling the long strands around her fingers, even as she looked away blushing red and eyes wide open.

"I'm sorry…" she whimpered. "I shouldn't have- I don't deserve this. I'm just intruding…" Then in a defeated tone "Sayori and you belong together."

"Mmm," he murmured noncommittally. "Research says that marrying your best friend is likely to lead to a long marriage - but Sayori will have me no matter what. Everyone else is just going to have to deal with it. There's a lot of things that could be said about that, but you know what Sayori would say?"

"… Anybody is fine except Monika?"

Both of them suddenly laughed, and then just as abruptly tried to hold it in because sounds might carry. Laughter inside an infirmary and among families with scared children just felt so inappropriate. Their stomachs hurt from the effort.

They crawled back inside and Yuri decided to surround the sixth level with a sound-dampening ice sheet, and supported the weight with ice pillars jutting out of the lower walls. From below, the Saint's Abode perhaps looked like a spider's web.

This was all still grossly not OSHA compliant. Yuri would still have to remove them before she slept or else they would slowly melt and crack and fall down below. Her ice was self-regenerating only while she was aware of them. They would have to get this fixed and interrogate Monika for why she wanted her little cubbyhole to look like Darth Sidius' throne room with a fall down the reactor chute waiting to happen, but maybe by morning. Then all the other things, getting interplanetary trade started. It would be a very busy morning.


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2.6 Living Miracles
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Natsuki woke up with a ragged gasp. She felt a great weight on her chest, she could barely breathe. She was trapped.

She looked left and right. She was in the bottom of a cuddlepile. "You guysss…!" she whined. Just because she was naturally warm didn't mean she was a heater!

For a moment she thought about just punching Yuri's boobs out of the way, then sighed. They all worked hard, they deserved to sleep in. All she did was just to make things warm. That was stupid easy, it didn't even need to use her imagination. Even with healing people from hypothermia, they needed MC to regulate blood flow and rebuild veins so that frozen limbs can live again.

MC was adamant that [Fire] by itself could be used to heal, eventually, but Natsuki was not willing to experiment with that. Yuri's [Water] combined with [Fire] didn't just produce Steam, but could encourage cell growth and scarring.

Natsuki slowly pried Sayori's hug from her waist. Considering how much people needed to breathe [Wind] was the most godawful lethal power, it was a good thing it was in the hands of someone who would never abuse it.

Natsuki slowly shimmied down and out from the cage-trap of limbs. She stood up, smoothed her short skirt out and stared down at her friends. Things were much simpler in zombie world, and frankly she could see how much of what they could do were wasted there, where any one of them was vulnerable to a sniper's bullet.

She moved over to the doorway to the side. It had a small window also cut into the stone wall beside it. Natsuki stared down at the people in the level directly below. Officially the reason was for security, but anyone determined enough could easily get up to the fifth level. It's not like ladders were lost technology or something. Monika just didn't want anyone to disturb them at night unless it was really important.

The circular floor was subdivided into three rooms with a wall open to the heat pipe in the center, which people had nailed curtains onto for some measure of privacy. The chimney was still warm. Fitting two hundred people means people sleeping on the open walkways, but warm stone was still very comfortable.

"Helloo? You guys awake down there?" Natsuki called down to the left side of the two halves per floor.

It was around six AM. People were already moving to prepare for the day. "It's Saint Nat!" a child shouted and pointed up. Other people immediately jerked to attention.

"Good morning to you, your worship!"

"Did we wake you up with our noise? Sorry, Saint Nat!"

Natsuki winced. She was never going to get used to that, why did she ever agree to MC's kooky plan? Oh, right. Guilt.

"None of that now!" she called down. "Look, I need your help."

"Whatever you want, ladyship!"

"I'm not a boat!" Natsuki shouted down while throwing down rope tied around the stone between window and the door. "Someone catch me please!"

One of the men hurried to under the robe as Natsuki slid down. She slid down for a little while and then lost her grip from the sliding rope burns on her palm. "Yeek!"

She landed softly onto the waiting arms. The man didn't even budge, her weight was nothing.

"Are you all right, child?" the grizzled coal miner asked.

Natsuki blinked. "I'm ok. Thank you!" She grinned up at him.

He grimaced and looked pained. Natsuki was just too cute, his heart couldn't take it. With the pink hair and the little red hourglass-shaped hair clip pinning her bangs to one side, and her canine teeth a little longer than the rest of her teeth, visible now that her mouth was open.

"Are *you* all right?"

"I am well, thank you for asking," he replied in a squelched voice. He set her down and then clenched his right hand into a fist, resisting the urge to pat her on the head.

"Good morning, everyone!" Natsuki greeted those standing around in the Fourth Floor, Side B.

"Good morning, Saint Nat!"

And then they looked away as Natsuki stepped out from behind the old man. Mothers covered their children's eyes. What. Why?

Natsuki looked down at herself. Jacket. Shoes. Socks. Skirt?

Oh right. She wasn't wearing winterwear pants or her robe.

Quick, bullshit a reason! Do like MC!

"I didn't forget to wear something over my sleepwear, it's easier to sense and manipulate heat when I've got more bare skin to feel with!"

MC a shite!

"Don't laugh!" one of the women hurriedly covered her child's mouth.

One of the women rummaged around in her pack and brought out a length of cloth. Her eyes were pleading yet resolved this immodesty must not stand. "… Even if you can't feel cold, please do cover up Saint Nat."

Natsuki pouted. "Okay. But please help me out here, I don't know how to wear this sort of thing."

"A-as you wish!"

Natsuki twirled about as the woman helped her out, turning one strip of cloth into something like a toga or a sari. In the dim early morning light, still mainly lit up by lamps, the girl was like a sliver of something perfect and unreal in a world

"That just aint natural…" someone whispered. "Pink hair, pink *eyes*, a rosy complexion? Can't be."

"What is this adorable creature? If a kitten could become a girl, that would be a Nat Sooki."

"Maybe that's what her name means…?"

"My name means Summer Hope!" Natsuki responded with an indignant huff.

"Ach, she heard ye!"

"Forgive me, Saint Nat!" The man in question clapped his hand together and kneeled.

His wife slapped the back of his head. "Don't be rude to the Saint, fool!"

"It's fine! It's fine… nyahaha…" Natsuki hurriedly tried to wave aside any fault. "It's a name from Japan. Depending on how it's written, it can mean Summer Princess… or -" she huffed softly "Vegetables Moon. Heh. Just telling it like it is."

"… really?"

"Really."

A child raised her hand. "Um… Saint Nat, may I ask a question?"

"Go ahead."

"If yer from Japan, why don't ya got…" She trailed off and then put her fingers to the side of her eyes, and pushed up to get squinty slanted eyes.

Natsuki looked away and groaned. That was faintly racist, but better than saying it. "Because I'm half… American, I guess?"

"Oh right, American. I remember now," someone muttered. "That's explains half of things…"

Someone coughed. "What brings you up so early, Saint Nat? Are you hungry?"

Natsuki blinked. "Yeah… I guess I am."

People hurriedly began rummaging through their stuff. One of the older women approached with a tin box. "Then eat, girl!" She shoved the box with little slabs of hard bread towards her.

"Um. I was thinking of helping out with the Cookhouse actually. Don't disturb the other just yet, they need their rest. I was gonna make them breakfast."

"That's a good plan, but if you're going to work then you need to eat." Grandmothers didn't give a hoot for sainthood, any little girl ought to eat more.

Natsuki, under pressure of that intense glare, reached into the tin and took out a piece of hardtack. She raised it to her teeth and bit down.

There was a *clack* sound.

"It's hard…" Natsuki said, trying not to whine. She gnawed on the dry bread. Nyam. Nyam. Nyam.

"Phhfft!" Some of the Winterhome watchers couldn't take it anymore. A man turned his back, faced the floor, and beat the stone in helpless cute aggression. Another one bit his fore finger in a clenched fist until his teeth drew blood.

The girl was too fresh, too dreamlike to be part of this world. It would be disrespectful to laugh at the Saint, even when she's being a silly little child, and even worse because seeing her act like a silly little child was much more inspiring than leading them in prayers.

In 1917, the miracle of Fatima witnessed by tens of thousands of people elevated three children to sainthood.

But now they could see there was this one child that would not freeze to death in this world. Innocence preserved. Innocence protected. It made sense for divinity to reveal itself to one without sin. That was proof enough that God had not yet fully abandoned this world.

Children were more open with their snickering. Saint Nat was silly, but they were always interested in anything new. Natsuki was a rich person's beloved tomboy daughter, everything about her hinted at that, and while that normally would be something to dislike her ignorance about many obvious things gave them something they could talk with her about.


-.

-.


"Toasty," Natsuki remarked, getting a faceful of hot air on exiting the Stone Tenement. This close to the generator, any errant winds would only be pushing steam-driven heat in front of their winter chill. "Also noisy," she added.

The Generator constantly clanked and hissed and groaned with the unmistakable sound of metal scraping against metal. It may be warm, but it was noisy enough to keep anyone from sleeping too close nearby.

"It's not so noisy inside," said Olivia Bell. Natsuki had handmaidens now. She was a girl of about fourteen – nearly old enough to work, but not nearly tall enough to do an adult's job. Irritatingly, she was also taller than Natsuki. "Such thick walls keep out everything. Milady, if it wouldn't be too impolite to ask… would you – would Saint Monika be making any more of her Stone Tenements?"

Natsuki scowled. "Ugh, Monika. Not like it's difficult for her. But I think the design will have to be improved in the next one. When she gets back, but it's MC and your Captain's decision to go through. I know they've been talking with the Engineers about the design."

Olivia bowed slightly. "Thank you for answering me, Saint Nat."

"Ugh, stop it with that too. Feel free to ask about anything. I don't need help, but if it makes the others feel better about my safety to have someone along, the least you could do is to give some good conversation."

"If you say so, miss." Olivia Bell had coarse corn-yellow blonde hair and a plain face. She was as plain commoner stock as could be, and dutifully obeyed her mother and grandmother's orders to take care of Saint Nat over everything. No one was allowed to scare her off that duty, if there was ever a problem no one below the Captain himself could tell her off.

Her mother had prostrated herself before the powerful young miss and begged forgiveness for her rudeness, but if she could accept Olivia as her maidservant it would ease everyone's mind. Of course some of the other women decried her attempt to steal a march on them and pushed forward their daughters – but only her mother spoke with such surety that only her daughter would be willing to die rather than disobey.

Olivia was no smart lass, but she was reliable.

Wait, wasn't this sort of thing the exact same blind obedience to authority they just had a rebellion over?

Natsuki had groaned and accepted on the condition that "no one had better pull any more of this shit" and "when MC wakes up, I'mma make this completely his problem instead."

Winterhome had several Cookhouses, and the nearest one was across the main first-ring road on the other side of the Generator. Also known as The Mess Hall, it was squat square building dominated by a double-stacked chimney tower rising from one corner. Every chunk of coal and wood had to be carefully stockpiled and people were not allowed to waste valuable resources just to cook their own food. The Cookhouse could feed more people with economy of scale, and heated by a steam pipe most people could at least eat with warmth if not peace.

It was around six AM, and already people were milling about waiting to form lines. With hundreds of people that need to be fed, there was always a risk they would run out.

Whispers followed them as they walked, the crowd clearing in their path.

"Is that her?" someone whispered. "One of them Saints? Is that even real?" With hundreds of people, not all of them had seen the dokis firsthand.

"Stone Tenement aunt nothin' anyone can make with a trick?" was the response.

"She's the firey one."

"Who else is pink? No one's pink. No one's *allowed* to be pink."

"Looks like a walking flower, what the hell."

Natsuki didn't know whether to wave and acknowledge them or stride ahead imperiously because it wasn't her job to stop and gossip. Sayori would surely have smiled and chatted easily and put them all at ease.

MC called her a tsundere because at heart she really just wanted to be left alone, dealing with other people was exhausting. She was no painful introvert like Yuri, but neither was she socially adept like Sayori or Monika. MC was just a fearless bullshitter that would whip up the crowd without giving a hoot.

She stopped by the door, turned around, and bowed.

"So she gets to go in first, eh? Typical. Posh is as posh does."

"Well you know it is, even though we don't have any of that truck with nobles nonsense any more, I guess some peoples are just more important than others."

Motherfucker. Natsuki grit her teeth and almost decided to just turn around again and just go home.

Instead she just sighed and stepped inside. "Hello, the Cookhouse! It's Nat Suki – I'm here to help! Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Who?"

"It's Saint Nat?" One of the cooks came out to check. He was a clean-shaven man with a bulbous nose. "It is! You honor us, milady. Food's not ready yet though, sorry."

"I know, that's why I'm here. I want to help."

The cook, Reuben Boyle, glanced back towards the kitchen. The people there shook their heads.

"I'm sorry to say that… there's really nothing more than can be done. Crushing garlic and peeling onions and potatoes… that's not something that can be done no more. We're already doing as much as we can, it's all preparing Raw Food - carving meat and cleaning offal here. Nothing your worship need to get messy with, surely!"

Natsuki frowned minutely. "We wouldn't expect people to do things we wouldn't normally be willing to do ourselves. I'm not afraid to get dirty!"

"If.. if you're sure."

-.
-.

The Hunters fortunately already do most of the skinning and draining of blood before handing over the carcasses to the Cookhouse. Hunted animals were best immediately dressed and removed of their internal organs to prevent bacterial growth and rapid body heat loss. However, while normally the internal organs were discarded, organ meant was a waste to discard.

If the hunters were specially lucky, they would drag home a moose or a seal with plenty of body fat to render into lard.

With the Hothouses ruined, this was the preparation for Winterhome's all-meat diet:

- Bones would be chopped and boiled into soup stock. Meat would be cut into thin strips and fried. Some people would take these strips and eat them as jerky while on the job.

- Artic lichen and moss, dried out and powdered and cut into diminishing reserves of flour served as a substitute for bread. Powdered pine bark made for a surprisingly nutritious alternative to wheat flour.

- Boiled pine needles and cones served as tea. They were British. Of course they would always have tea.

- Liver and gizzards were roasted and served as delicacies. Tongue and hearts likewise. Brains were steamed and chilled and served to children as a replacement for ice cream and gelatin. Intestines would be cleaned thoroughly, cut and broiled in wooden skewers.

- Lungs were discarded as too often holding contamination. Almost all other internal organs were fine to grind up and serve as sausages and patties.

- Small animals like hares and birds didn't give a soup much flavor and were barely enough to feed someone if served as a whole. Into the soup they go anyway, into unrecognizable chunks. People preferred the morning serving because it was the most flavorful with thick fatty cuts, while the evening serving of the second boil of the bones were supplemented by small animal lean meats.

- Soups, even before the Soup edict, was the basis for all Winterhome meals. Bones as they are boiled out but not completely drained in the servings would leave a deep flavorful base stock at the bottom of the pot. The flavor gets deeper and deeper as new bones are added, and over weeks even a society that didn't have access to salt had a salty gelatinous base for cooking.

- Fish was something that was also good for soups and servings – the Scouts found a geothermally heated freshwater spring with fish relatively nearby.

- Foxes, hares, snow cats, wolves, bears, rats, fish, otters, walrus, seals, all sorts of birds, sharks, literally anything that they could drag home was fine to eat.

"Offal gives the strongest flavors to stocks and preserves," said Reuben Boyle as he lightly jugged the soft quivering purple liver of some unidentified animal. "It's slippery work though. Cutting meat needs a bit more of a practiced hand, but this is slow but careful work that we really could use some help with if this could go any faster."

The smell of everything hiked up Natsuki's noise and she got all teary-eyed. She turned about, fled the kitched, and dashed into the open central area of the Cookhouse. She puked out into the open soil. "BLOOORGH."

"You're a mean one, Mister Boyle!" one of the other cooks laughed.

Olivia comfortingly stroked circles with her palm on Natsuki's back. "There. There. Just let it all out, milady."

"Blorgh." Natsuki spat a few times more and then jerked her head back up angrily. "I'm fine. I'm fine! I've seen worse…! I can't let myself be stopped by being icked out! This is just the circle of life…!"

Natsuki tromped back to the kitchen, shook her fist and squeakily roared "Ich bin ein Winterhomerrrr!"

"Oh nooo…" Reuben Boyle moaned as he realized his plan backfired. "This would not be funny at all."


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2.7 Living Miracles
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Lucian Walden, a worker who was thirty going on sixty, prematurely white-haired and sallow-eyed like life had just beat the hell out of him, stepped out. "I will… handle this…" he said, and his voice too had that hoarse barely-there quality.

And yet, Natsuki realized oddly, there was a certain *definitiveness* to it that reminded her of MC. He might have a wobbly walk, but there was an hollow determination that once he started he would not be able to stop on his own.

He reached out to touch the work table and stilled. He looked at Natsuki, and then past her. Making eye contact with Olivia, he pointed to the left and towards the steam-driven boiler with a kettle on top. "Tea…"

Oliva hopped in place and moved in. "For sure!" She hurriedly gathered cups into a tray and prepared to pour from the boiling kettle into a smaller serving kettle.

They were Britons. Before everything, tea.

"Set tea… out to the mess hall," Lucian said softly as he turned about to wash his hands at the sink. Again with that odd almost robotic way he precisely shifted in place and the moved until he needed to stop in front of a steaming box.

It was an oven. He put in a pair of oven mitts and took out a tray of freshly baked brown bread. For a moment even the sickly-sweet smell of organ meats in the kitchens was drowned by a faintly nutty aroma.

"Oi, is that the brownmeal?" one of the cooks added. "I guess flatbread don't take too long, these girls can slap some squares to shape."

"Sit…" Lucian said as he passed by Natsuki. He went out to the mess hall and placed the tray of hot brown breads- down on the nearby table. Olivia put down her own tray.

"But… I didn't come here to be fed," Natsuki moaned.

"Everybody comes to Cookhouse… to be fed," Lucian replied. "Eat now, help later."

Natsuki puffed her cheeks like a chipmunk and pouted. "All this special treatment is setting a horrible precedent."

"Milady?" Olivia asked in a flat tone that implied 'You have just said something horribly stupid'.

Lucian tried to laugh, simply because it was what an older and wiser person should do in that situation. "Heh. Heh. Heh. Is that so? What is horrible about this? We feed the generator before we feed ourselves. Is normal."

"I mean… okay, so I'm warm. I can make things warm. But as long as the generator is running you don't need me for that. So as long as I'm in Winterhome I ought to work for my living."

Olivia stared at Natsuki. She closed her eyes and sighed. In a way that tried very hard not to imply 'That is *double* retarded, milady'.

"You, child… you… work. Children here in Winterhome… all work. Haul coal. Chop wood. Cut meat. Old Captain ordered… children work all jobs," Lucian wheezed.

Natsuki winced. "I understand. Child labor laws should exist to protect children. They shouldn't be made to work."

"I had… a daughter. About your age. She used to help like this, in morning."

Natsuki blinked. "… had? Oh. I'm sorry."

Lucian continued "Breakfast preparations start at close to midnight. Hunters try to time their arrival all at sunrise, but what raw food they bring will be used later today. Soup bones will been boiling for six hours now, flat breads baking three hours. You help serve food, means some of us get to sleep before lunch. We be cooks. Serving girls help later."

Lucian stopped and gasped for breath, coughing to the side. His lungs were scarred from pneumonia. His clipped speech obviously from how difficult it was to take a breath. Working with hot steam inside the Cookhouse soothed his lungs.

He picked up a bread from the pan and put it over Natsuki's steaming cup. "Drink. Eat...!" the cook insisted again.

Natsuki took up the brown slab of hard bread and dipped it into the brownish liquid. She took a bite of the softer bread and made a face. "Bitter. But it's not as bitter as I was afraid of, to be honest."

Olivia ducked her head. "Sorry, miss. You deserve better, I know."

The pinkette clapped her hands over her mouth, mortified. "I mean… it's…" She sighed. "Okay. The taste isn't as bad as I expected. If this is what everybody else is eating, I have no right to complain."

"Hah. Hah. Hah. Break bread into tea. Is porridge now. You're thinking of ersatz coffee. Bitter roasted substitutes, not boiled leaf juice."

"What is this anyway?" Natsuki sniffed at the drink.

"Pine needle tea, miss. I don't think the bread is made of flour though," Olivia replied.

"Pine tree also, inner bark," Lucian said.

"Isn't that just as bad as eating sawdust?" Natsuki squeaked.

Lucian shook his head. "No, learned from Finns. Outer bark hard, not for eating. Inner white bark soft, as eatable as grain for flour. Doesn't rise from leavening. Only good for hardbread."

Natsuki stared at the brown, earth-tasting bread in her hands. "At least it's bread…" she murmured. "I didn't know you could make bread from tree bark. With a lot of pine trees… you could survive for a while, maybe?"

"As long as there's warmth, miss, we'll live," said Olivia. "Please don't hesitate to eat up."

Lucian nodded. "Broth and meat later, get something warm in belly for now…"

Natsuki gulped. "That's… fair." She began nibbling on her poor bitter breakfast.

The others also began to eat, slowly and carefully, showing Natsuki how to eat these starvation rations.

Natsuki was painfully conscious that she was being watched. She really didn't like the relaxed, faintly smiling expression on Olivia's face. A girl younger than her had no right to look at her like she was a fluffy baby animal!

Natsuki was not a moron. She knew she was cute. But she had morals enough not to weaponize it. MC would. Ugh. Inevitably she would have to give in, but she was resolved to stand firm against his social engineering for as long as possible. There was a difference between being smart and being conniving, and despite how hard MC tried, he just consistently failed to be that scheming evil mastermind and just ends up looking like a Mid-Boss or something.

After a while, Lucian spoke "… Child, while you are here… I would like to confess something."

Natsuki paused and looked up. "Umm. I don't think I have the authority to do anything about that. MC, maybe. I don't have any special rights to forgive anybody about anything…"

Then she furrowed her brows a bit, remembering how utterly helpless she felt watching her friends slowly degrade. She could watch, and then be made to forget, and so each time was a fresh horror. "But if you need to get something off your chest, I'm always ready to listen."

In the days before accredited therapist, listening without judging was probably what priests and grandmothers were for. Of course they still judged you super hard, but silently.

"Miracles… power… I believe it. But my sin is… I don't believe God gave you that power."

Natsuki winced. Dammit, MC.

"Mister!" Olivia hissed angrily. "Please be careful with your words!"

Lucian's corpse-like gaze could not be disturbed. "This world belongs to the Devil. No God. No kindness… I don't believe… a God would be so kind." Maybe the creepiest thing was that the tone of his voice never changed, clipped yet fervent in a morose way. "I sinned. My wife, Noreen, sinned. My child… my sweet Christine… had no sin. A God that slaughters children is no God of mine."

"That's blasphemy!" Olivia screeched and pointed at him. "Saint Nat, we can't stay here! You don't have to take this bunkum!"

Natsuki sighed. "It's fine. I feel that way too sometimes. It wasn't me that personally got the revelation, it's why MC speaks for the rest of us. I mean… it's really difficult to treat being on the edge of human extinction as a positive. There's so few of us left… each life should be more precious."

Olivia looked away. And yet in such a situation, human dignity was the least of all things. Lives were things to be spent to secure the survival of the greater number.

Lucian put both hands on the table. "Innocence should be protected… but if you look away, you do not… take responsibility."

Natsuki nodded. "I know things were bad, but not how bad."

"Was not a Cook before… was coal miner. Got sick.This before the generator stopped working. This while we still had Infirmaries. When generator stopped working – infirmaries still warm enough but for important people. Medical Posts for the poor.

"My wife… Maisy… worked in the Public House. She did all she could do to keep me in the Infirmary. Would have died if they moved to Medical Post."

Olivia grimaced. Natsuki looked confused. Then her look slowly shifted to horror, then to guilt. Prostitutes needed protection but often just got contempt from almost everybody. She had no right to judge anybody, that wasn't what she promised.

"One day they just found her naked and dead out in the streets. Weak… I was useless, while my wife whored herself out to keep me alive. She had no power… could only submit… but they killed her anyway."

"They say Christine was screaming at me to wake up." Lucian clenched his hands into fists, and his voice remained impassive and hollow. "Know you that feeling when a child has to carry parent's sin?"

"… No. What happened? Please tell me they didn't force her to…"

"No. Christine worked… here. Same common sense rules. Adults to cook, children to serve. Everybody something to do. Idle hands the devil's work. Wood fires to cook food. Slept here to be safe. While the world… goes to hell outside."

Then how did she die?

Holy shit what sort of rude asshole would ask that of a father in pain? Natsuki waited. She had absolutely zero curiosity about this. Like hell was she going to go the Monika method with 'just rip that emotional bandaid right off and get that dried crust bleeding again so the healing can happen'.

The Monika method was a lot more subtle than that, Natsuki was not giving Monika enough credit. No one gets better by playing pretend, by walling off the parts that hurt. But still better than MC apparently having decided that the Naruto method of Involuntary Facepunch Therapy was best for resolving historic trauma.

Somehow Natsuki felt that punching Lucian Walden in the face and shouting "BE MY FRIEND, MOTHERFUCKERRR!" was not the best way to resolve this emotional knot.

Lucian fell silent and gray like stone.

Lucian grit his teeth and what came next was a pained hiss. "Give us warmth… give us life… but ask worship. Ask obedience. What makes you different from the old Captain?"

"… I don't know. That's not really something I think about. We don't want to rule – like… I don't know – separation of church and state? That sort of thing is really MC and you're Captain's problem."

"But you. Child. What… do you want?"

Natsuki copied his posture, putting her fists flat down on the table as not to appear a threat. "As I said before – to help."

"I can't believe that. Power… so much power to someone so young. You… are being used."

"I don't mind being used."

Lucian Walden swept his arm across the table, throwing all the food and metal containers to the floor with a loud clatter. "Not good enough!"

Olivia, startled, nearly dropped her cup of tea. Then, with narrowed eyes she changed her hold from the handle into a palm grip, ignoring the heat of the metal, ready to throw to defend her young miss.

The noise was loud enough to draw attention from those in the kitchen. As if sensing Olivia's intent, Natsuki raised her left hand. As if this was just a tantrum.

"Not good… Child. Not for no god. Those happy being used… share blame for the evils their masters do…"

Natsuki grimaced. Well yeeeah that was true. But that was just a matter of trust, wasn't it? MC probably wouldn't do anything too heinous. "Yeah, probably…"

Lucian's eyes held no anger, his grizzled face with pale skin and white pepper hairs made him look permanently on ice. Desperation wafted from him like cold mist off an ice cube.

So it was an absolute surprise when she suddenly felt his calloused hands around her neck. Squeezing. "Why you? You are saved… but my child died. You give us warmth. But can you give us… justice?"

"Saint Nat!" Olivia screeched and threw her metal cup at Lucian's head. "Let go of her!"

The cup bounced off his right cheek and the still-warm liquid splashed over half his face. He didn't feel a thing.

Lucian was a big man, and she felt like nothing in his hands as he pulled Natsuki right out of her seat, raised and slammed her flat down onto the table.

"Don't…!" Natsuki gasped out.

"Are you afraid, child? Good."

Olivia made some sort of battle cry and jumped on the table and began punching Lucian in the face with her tiny fists and he felt nothing. She was screaming and he heard nothing.

"Stop…!" Natsuki whispered.

"Children. Should be scared to die…" He increased the pressure a little bit as Natsuki clutched at his arms.

Then his expression broke. His face got all wrinkled up like a pug, and a ragged gasp escaped his downturned lips. "No child… no child should be prepared to die!"

"Don't do it…" Natsuki said flatly. The grip on her neck was strong as steel, but .

"… Give us justice…!" Lucian ground out.

"LUCIAN YOU BASTARD!!!" Reuben Boyle charged out from the kitchen, brandishing a cleaver.

Olivia was choking Lucian's neck in turn with her bony elbows and doing her best to bite his ear clean off.

"I said…!" Natsuki snarled. "DON'T HURT HIM!"

The girl raised her hand up, and a blinding hot jet of white flame shot out from her open palm, streaking past her attacker's face and behind him. At the same time the front wall of the Cookhouse was torn open.

This was power, real power. Not political, not economic, not military, not even muscular. It was wrath, untrammeled, the scream of star-stuff. The air behind him exploded with a loud BANG in a flash into a rain of glittering ice shards.

Olivia eeked and fell off Lucian's back, shielding her face from the flash and the debris.

MC ran out of the mist-filled hole in the wall and with a battle cry of "DESPACITO!", punched Lucian Walden in the face. Lucian's grizzled chin sank inwards was MC got him right in the teeth. He toppled backwards and crashed against the next row of tables and benches.

"Dammit, MC!" Natsuki spat as the teen sailed over her and landed catlike on his toes. "What did I just say?!"

"I should never sleep again if this shite is just going to keep happening to you girls!" he retorted hotly.

"I had this handled!" Then she turned to the left and pointed down at the ice sheet ominously crawling through the floor. "And you stop that too!"

The ice sheet stopped moving. Yuri walked in through the front door, frowning.

"Saint Nat!" Olivia popped up from the side of the table like goomba. She helped Natsuki sit up. "Are you in pain?"

"I'm fine!" Natsuki hummed as she touched her neck. "He stopped putting pressure in at the end there, he just wanted to scare me."

"That's no good!" Olivia replied with a raised fist. She grinned with teeth stained red with human blood and bits of human flesh. No regrets whatsoever. No fear.

Natsuki got back to her feet and steadied herself by putting her hand on MC's flat chest and also keeping him from interfering. She quivered with fear and rage, and when she breathed in the entire room went cold and when she breathed in the air spiked hot and clinging.

Why were all the people she knew so super dramatic!

Like, the only way you can accomplish things is if you *suffer* for it. Instead of just *communicating properly* like sane people!

She walked over to where Lucian Walden lay sprawled against toppled benches and tables of the next row. It must hurt to have the hard wood edges dig into his spine like that.

His breath hitched, and he blubbered, and snot and pinkish drool dribbled down his chin. His hands felt heavy as iron. He couldn't move. He was a living corpse, as if he had exerted the last bit of his energy and now he had nothing left to live for. His eyes were glassy, but as Natsuki stood over him a little bit of focus returned.

"Go wan then…" he burbled. "Give us… justice."

"It's going to be all right," Natsuki replied.

"Kill me. You know you need to…"

Natsuki lowered herself down to her knees and clasped his cheeks with both hands. "You're trying to make me think you want to die…"

"Please… child. Give me… justice…" Lucian's face got all twisted up. He hiccupped. He sniffed. He blinked forcefully, his eyes stinging.

He was weak and a coward and he would never see his daughter again. She would go to Heaven, assuredly. He and his wife would go straight to Hell for their sins.

"You just needed to *cry*, didn't you?"

That broke the man. He let out a soul-rending scream, and began bawling as Natsuki hugged him. He curled up into a ball of misery and pain, now finally allowed to break loose.

Reuben Boyle, ready to kill someone that he had taken in out of pity, lowered his butcher knife. Shame filled him. Men were allowed to cry in grief, but after Lucian had shut down after the death of his daughter, everyone thought that it was fine to leave him alone – politely avoiding anything that could remind him of his loss.

In time, one could move past grief.

It wasn't like he was the only one that lost their loved ones recently. Death was a constant companion in this world if ice and more ice.

He looked up at the Saints – and the destroyed wall. He did not doubt their power, but he wondered of course if they were worthy of being called Saints. The boy and that long-haired girl – they had power to be sure.

But the child… she should be afraid. But all this time she only cared about someone's else pain. Pain in her innocent wisdom only she could see. She really did only want to help. Maybe they really did mean what they were saying.

And oddly, like Lucian Walden himself, now he only feared that she would be used up until she died. The crowd had a tendency to eat its own.

-.
-.

One of the good things about being Captain was that you were fed ahead of everyone else. Robert Clark slowly supped at his bowl of gruel. One of the bad things was that if you were a responsible Captain had to be awake ahead of everyone else save the cooks and the hunters.

"Captain, we got a problem!" Young Will Brown barged into the room.

Clark looked up dully. "Of course. What is it now?"

Pleasant Bosby walked in behind him. "Murder, my Captain. Someone just attempted to kill Saint Nat Sooki."

Clark choked on his own spit. That was the worst possible thing! He sprang right up, fully expecting to see half his city being reduced to rubble. From the lack of screaming, maybe the others didn't find out yet.

This was never a part of the duties he expected as a Captain!

"Attempted murder," Pleasant Bosby said pleasantly. "She is fine. Her friends are tending to her as we speak. Her assailant also, surprisingly, lives yet still."

"You arse!" he spat the smiling old man.

-.
-.

They rushed out anyway. Captain Clark stopped staring at Cookhouse, with a wall torn right open and now caged over with gigantic ice spikes that reminded him too eerily of fangs and teeth. The crowd was prevented from rubbernecking any closer by a round field of smaller spikes growing right out of the ground and pointed outwards.

They quivered threateningly at anyone's approach.

"What the hells is this," he whined to no one in particular. He raised his hands as if to cradle the sight in front of him. "What is happening to my city now, seriously?"

"Indeed, what is this?" someone gently spoke up from behind him. "I've been gone for only a day – what fresh insanity could have revealed itself could have gone so wrong in that time?"

He jerked to attention and turned around. He recognized that gentle, almost motherly tone.

"Saint Monika!"

The girl back smiled at him with that caring and utterly fake smile of hers. She was wearing a bright blue parka, and behind her were two other taller strangers with similarly colorful winter gear.

One of them pushed up the goggles from his face. "Whoo yeah. There's something strange in this neighborhood. We tried to call, but no one was listening." Rasheed Vaughan then looked at the spiky ice field and grimaced. "Yeah that place doesn't look like a place of honor. What made Yuri snap this time?"

"Great goodness, a Negro!" Clark stepped back and gasped.

Vaughan stared at him. And then he cackled. "Hahaha oh man. I was warned about this, but that came so out of nowhere I ain't even mad."


-.
-.
 
2.8 Between Two Worlds
-.

-.


Monika put down the bags she was carrying, made finger guns and pointed at them. "Would you kindly deal with this meet and greet as grownups? I'm going to have to try and get a handle on this chaos. Excuse me please."

And then she left. Leaving the adults to stand there awkwardly.

The Captain coughed into his left fist, completely embarrassed. He held out his right hand. "Forgive me, please. I meant no disrespect. I was just surprised. I am sure you are a credit to your people. I am Robert Clark, Captain of this city of Winterhome. We will have none of that silly bigoted nonsense here."

Somehow that just made Vaughan grin even wider with evident hilarity. "Oh my god you actually believe that with what you're saying."

"… Yes? Why wouldn't I?"

"You may be unintentionally giving offense, Captain," said Pleasant Bosby. "Perhaps America and the Empire were not in good terms? Lord knows our Empire had spent most of this century putting the boot down on anyone without white skin."

Vaughan put his hands to his mouth to keep himself from giggling. What a cheerful fellow! "… You know what? I am fine with this. I fully expected oldy-timey peoples to have oldy-timey ways."

"I would prefer to be called Doctor, not Negress," the woman by his side said dryly. "Josefa Gilliam. My rank in the United States Army Medical Corps is also Captain."

"Ah, of course, madam!" Pleasant Bosby made a courtier's bow. It was not even meant sarcastically - that was just how people of this era, still flush with the power of the Empire, showed deep respect.

Dr. Gilliam's unimpressed look communicated how quickly any more of this would become annoying.

Meanwhile, Monika had reached the edge of the ice spike field.

"Hellooo! What's going on? I'm back – it's me! Monika!"

The ice spikes immediately pivoted and flung themselves as deadly ice spears towards her face. Monika smoothly flipped her hand up and a rock wall immediately shot up from the ground, and the ice spears clattered harmlessly upon it.

"Nice to see you too, Yuri!" she shouted towards the Cookhouse.


-.

-.



Rasheed Vaughan was excited all to heck. He was a spaceman.

All right, so technically they never crossed space, but he was on another world. He was a time traveler too! The only thing that could make this any better was if they made the interplanetary portal inside a blue police call box.

The people of Winterhome were resigned that their lives would from now on be harsher, lacking softness and color. But if there was one thing they could be proud of, it was their sheer refusal to just lie down and die – and the Generator was the very foundation of that vow. Vaughan stared up at the Generator and let out a childish "Ooooohh…!" of awe, and Clark couldn't help but to smile.

Even the dingy repurposed wooden frames of the Public House seemed terribly interesting to him. "Steam!" Vaughan muttered as his eyes trailed the pipes that followed the room's contours. "This really is a steampunk world!"

"By saying that, do you mean to say that you really are from a different world?" Pleasant Bosby asked mildly.

"Yup. We're not going to make a secret of that."

Once again they were up on the second floor of the Public House. Captain Clark and Pleasant Bosby on one side, Dr. Josefa Gilliam and Rasheed Vaughan on the other.

"Once again, welcome to Winterhome," said Captain Clark.

"Thank you. A pleasure to be here," replied Dr. Gilliam.

A tense and uncomfortable silence stretched out. Clark leaned on his elbows and laced his fingers right under his tall hawk nose. It was just a pity he didn't wear glasses that could glint ominously.

It was too easy to see the naked desperation in his gaze.

"You look worried, Captain…"

"No, no, I am pleased as geese to meet with you. It is just…" He looked away and his left knee began spasming uncontrollably. "I am just not sure if it is safe to leave Speaker Emsi… unsupervised. It troubles me not knowing what he might be doing now."

"Oh believe me, we understand perfectly," Dr. Gilliam breathed heavily and rubbed at her forehead. "What a troublesome boy."

"I have left such a person loose around some extremely impressionable *old* people."

Both leaders started to get up from their seats out of their anxiety over the unknown.

Pleasant Bosby raised his hand. "Please. Let's not allow unfounded fears to control our hearts. We must put our faith in our fellow men and the youth that shall drive our futures."

"Yeah. I mean, they are good kids," Vaughan added in support. "Total religious nutbars, but good kids. What's the worst they could do?

The window shutters began to rattle.

"ALL IS WELL. WE ARE HERE TO HELP AGAINST ANY MORE PREVENTABLE DEATHS IN THE VERY BOUNDARY OF HUMAN EXTINCTION!" Emsi's voice echoed all through the valley.

"THAT *INCLUDES OUR OWN*." A faintly dangerous edge sank onto his tone. "YOUNG WE MAY BE. BUT MORONS WE ARE NOT.

"THOU SHALT NOT ATTEMPT TO MAKE MY GIRLS INTO MARTYRS. NOR SEEK TO MARTYR YOURSELVES SEEKING DEATH VIA THE POWERS GRANTED TO US.

"I AM NOT HERE TO SAVE YOUR SOULS. I CANNOT SAVE YOU FROM YOURSELVES."
What came next was an air shattering roar. "THE WAGE OF DUMBASSERY IS DEATH!"

"…"

"Things are gonna be just fiiiiiine," Vaughan said with a wide grin and double thumbs up.

Pleasant Bosby grinned as well and imitated the gestures. "I am completely reassured by your words, good man."

"Oh Lord I know I don't pray as often as I should but why must you torture me this way…?" Captain Clark groaned. "Now there are two of them."

Dr. Gilliam crossed her arms and sighed. "You get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it."


-.

-.


Once again - Captain Clark, Pleasant Bosby, Dr. Gilliam, and Rasheed Vaughan faced each other in solemn silence. A deep and uncomfortable silence stretched out as these people from different worlds painfully considered the long-lasting consequences of this meeting.

And then suddenly, Vaughan gasped.

He began giggling. "Sorry, I just couldn't take it anymore."

Captain Clark punched down on the table and stood up. He then raised his fist and roared "I can't take it anymore either! Someone go find out what in THE FUCK is that child doing now in our city!"

It was super annoying in the way a free to play mobile game that technically was made so you could forget about it for a day or two no problem but instead gets you checking in every hour trying for maximum efficiency or else it's going to bug you all day. Emsi frontloaded the offer with strong features, now is the time for microtransactions.

"Yes, Captain!" one of the militia standing guard halfway down the steps leading up to the second floor shouted. Far enough not to hear anything sensitive, near enough to respond to a shout.

"Ask them if they have done anything to… disappoint me… recently, if you feel they're being too unruly." Dr. Gilliam said in a stern motherly tone.

The Captain took deep anxious breaths and sat down. After a while he started to relax.

"Now. As much as I would just like to throw all of you out of my city, I am curious enough and desperate enough to entertain hearing you out. Who are you and what do you want?"

"Whoa those are some powerful questions there. Doc, mind if I handle this?"

Dr. Gilliam waved nonchalantly at Vaughan. "Go ahead."

Pleasant Bosby raised his hand. "With all due respect, perhaps we should take this in order. Captain, would you mind if I open our talks?"

"… You know what? Fine. I am fine with this. Get it out of your systems."

Pleasant Bosby put on his eyeglasses. They glinted ominously in the early morning light.

"First things first, when opening diplomatic relations there must be proof that indeed the person you are speaking to does represent a foreign power. And no, clergy do not count for that as they have no authority to speak on behalf of their rulers."

"Got it. We are a community that represents ourselves. You guys are doing some amazing things with steam, so as proof let me show what we did instead with electronics." Vaughan took out a roughly hand-sized slab of dark glass.

He pointed the flat side to the two representing Winterhome and said "Say cheese!"

"What?" said Captain Clark.

"Brie," said Pleasant Bosby.

There was a brief but bright flash of light and a clicking sound.

Vaughan turned the glass slab around, and the other side was bright. It showed an image of the two men, staring oddly towards the viewer.

Pleasant Bosby adjusted his glasses again and peered closer. "Fascinating. Is this some sort of… camera? How is this possible in something so thin? To capture and image and develop film instantly – where is the light even coming from?"

"It is also a camera, yeah," replied Vaughan. "Check this out." He fiddled around with the settings and then presented the device to the old man. "Okay, just hold it like this and point it at me."

Pleasant Bosby carefully took over. He moved the device up and down a little verify that he was looking at something through a lens. It was glass on one side and metal on the other – and so that meant that little nub on the back side was probably a lens. Something so small could show an image this wide?!

"Now just press the red button with your finger and tell me when you're done."

"What red butt- oh. I see. On the plate itself." Pleasant Bosby did so. There was no tactile response to let him know anything had happened, unlike physical button. "It is done."

"Cool." Vaughan struck a jaunty pose and squinted. He said in a throaty tone "You talkin' to me? Huh? You talking ta me?" He pointed towards the camera. "Well I don't see anybody here. So you must be talkin' to me."

Pleasant Bosby blinked. He didn't say anything.

"I'm here," Dr. Gilliam said nonchalantly while taking sip of her pine tea.

Captain Clark tried not to look at him like he was crazy.

"Okay, now push the red button again."

The scene froze in the glass. Pleasant Bosby handed over the device, and Vaughan moved some things around again. He presented it towards them, glass-face first again, and the events from a few seconds ago repeated.

"You talkin' to me? Huh? You talking ta me-?" Vaughan's voice came out from behind the glass.

Even Dr. Gilliam's soft and uninterested "I'm here" was clearly captured and reproduced.

"Not just pictures, but… hm. I don't actually have the word for this. Scene? Camera… movements… kinetic camera? But there is the audible component as well…" Pleasant Bosby rubbed his chin. "Fascinating."

"Video's fine," replied Vaughan. "Audio. Video."

"I see. I don't see how clockwork could accomplish this, so whatever technology this is… this is technology, right? I mean, we were just given proof of miracles and magic…"

"It's tech. Mass produced tech, don't worry about it."

"So this would be convincing proof that you are at least from a different world where the development of technology proceeded across different path."

"Well about that… what year is it here?"

"It is the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and eighty-six."

"Where we're from it is twenty and sixteen," Vaughan replied. "You guys know about telephones, right? Alexander Graham Bell? Was there a guy like that here?" At the old man's nod, he continued "And radio?"

"Marconi wireless, of course. Do you mean to imply that this is accomplished by radiotelephony? A difference of a hundred years is a great one, indeed. This miniature camera capable of capturing sight, sound, and motion is a marvel."

"The thing is, it's not a camera. It has the functions of one, but this is a computer that just happens to have the ability to serve as a telephone, a camera, a calculator, a media player, word processor, gaming, and… a flashlight, I guess."

Vaughan tapped the screen and pulled up the calculator app then pushed it forward on the table. "C means Clear. X if you want to delete to go back."

Pleasant Bosby, now with some idea of touch controls, began inputting numbers. Divisions. Square root. Cosine. Tangent. No matter how big the number. Oh, in scientific notation as well for extremely large numbers. Effectively instantly.

"I see. The entire analytical engine within the palm of one's hand. Fascinating."

"Since no way can anyone make anything like this by hand, and the user interface is so designed for human use that it can't be alien technology or something-"

"This does serve as your effective bonafides even for something so outlandish, yes. A hundred years of development! It would be a pleasure to hear more about it. Welcome again to Winterhome, Mister Vaughan! Just let us know what you might need!"

"I was promised robots! Uh, automatons." Vaughan coughed into his fist. "There's some things you guys do with steam that we never realized was possible. I'm happy to be here too and I'd really like to know more about what's different between planets. I can barely believe it either, but I'm In Another World with my Smartphone!" Vaughan grinned widely before he collapsed into excited giggles again.

Dr. Gilliam groaned and rubbed at her forehead.

Captain Clark picked up his cup of tea, took a deep sip, and then said plainly "Bloody hell."


-.

-.
 
2.9 Between Two Worlds
-.
-.

Captain Robert Clark put away the cup and steepled his fingers together under his nose again in the classic Gendo pose. He exhaled softly and then said "Let us take that I believe this for now. For what reason does this strange future come to us? We are a people starved of almost everything, we have nothing to trade."

"Speaker Emsi is the one that has control over the portal between worlds, isn't he?" said Pleasant Bosby. "What is the incentive that leads you to follow through? A hundred years of wealth and prosperity, even under charity we would fear being eaten up."

Vaughan and Dr. Gilliam glanced at each other. Vaughan grinned and held up the smartphone.

"Put it down," the doctor said with a sigh. She turned towards the Captain and said "That's not something you have to fear. If you know… Emsi… then you know that there ought to be a common theme between our worlds. Both our worlds are on the verge of human extinction."

"Truly?" murmured Pleasant Bosby. "What great disaster fell upon your society?" He rubbed at his bulbous chin. "Was it war? A hundred years of development, but did mankind mature?"

The doctor laughed. "No. There were a couple times that was really close, but since the 90s that's not a thing most people had to fear anymore. War would have been better, more people would survive a global winter caused by nukes. Unlike your frost and making these generators, we didn't have any warning. So while this world under global winter is seeing over ninety percent of all life maybe dying… in our planet, most of non-human life are still ok… but ninety-nine percent of all humanity are dead or worse than dead in just a year."

"Ah, my sympathies and apologies, madam." Pleasant Bosby clapped his palms. "What could it be, then?"

'What's a nuke that can cause global winter as well?', the old man carefully noted. 'Could our frozen world be the result of some weapon?'

"I really think this is the sort of thing that calls for video evidence," said Vaughan.

Dr. Gilliam huffed. "… Yeah. Me too. Go ahead then."

Vaughan took out a slim card that he unfolded into some sort of freestanding holder for the smartphone. He placed the device on the cradle, facing the two men from Winterhome.

A video began playing.

-.
-.

A young man with a long face and a wooly hat with ear flaps leaned towards the camera and shouted "HELLO ALL YOU BRITISHERS! WE'RE YOUR HOSTS EINAR HOUSE AND HALF PINT" he reached towards the camera and moved it about to show an Asian-looking young man behind him "AND WELCOME TO [BARELY LEGAL!]"

(Dr. Gilliam palmed her face. "I regret this immediately.")

"Is that even a word?" a female voice asked from out of nowhere.

"Oh, and our camera lady too – Timara McNamara!" Einar stepped back and held out both hands to the screen.

"Britishers?" replied Half Pint, the Asiatic with the broad face. "No. British, yes. Britons, yes. But that might be offensive."

"Why would that be offensive?" the woman behind the camera asked as the angle moved to the left facing him more squarely.

"Well they could be Irish?"

("Worse," said Pleasant Bosby. "We could be Scottish.")

He beckoned to the camera. "Also, in the interests of transparency, my actual name is Kedan Ye." He raised his arms wide to either side. "More properly – welcome to Washington State! If you don't recognize the name, it's the part below British Columbia and above California."

"What about Oregon?" said the lady behind the camera.

"What about Oregon?" Kedan Ye asked archly.

"… You know what, I'm going to just shut up about this and let y'all boys do your thing."

Einar House clapped his hands. "All righty then! Let's get back to the Einar House and Half Pint Show! With our special guest… Zombie Lady!"

The camera shifted to the right to show a twitching moaning cadaver chained to a table. It was only barely recognizable as a woman, with sunken cheeks, lips stretched tight over teeth and black gums, and missing on eye.

"In case you think this is some sort of actor or special effects… no. Wait, did they invent movies yet?" Einar asked.

"Theater existed long before movies, man," Kedan Ye replied.

Einar nodded. "Yeah anyway, this isn't fake. This isn't a joke. C'mere." He flipped his hand around to beckon and the camera followed as he somewhat stupidly also brought his face closer to the zombie.

It turned its head about and tried to bite his face off.

"Man, I can't tell you how much this stinks," Einar added. He took a stick and began poking at the zombie's flaps of skin, through the holes in its cheeks and into its mouth. "It's rotten. This is a corpse. There's no one hiding behind make-up here."

He then snapped back upright suddenly. "Okay, phase two." He pickup an axe from under the table, raised it high, and - with a mighty *twack!* - chopped off the zombie's left arm.

The zombie recoiled, and the camera followed the zombie's arm as it dropped to the ground. It twitched for a long time before finally going still.

The clatter of chains and ragged moans from the zombie grew louder, but as the view turned back towards it, nothing in its dead face showed that it ever felt any pain. Only a sense of urgency, knowing there was something nearby.

The view shifted towards Kedan Ye, and he continued in a lecturing tone:

"What is a zombie? A zombie is a form of living dead… though the living part is questionable. We know that they possess a sort of basic animal intelligence – drawn to loud sounds, moving in packs, and they're hungry. Always hungry. But even if they don't eat, they don't die!

"That is not dead which can eternal lie, And with strange aeons even death may die." Kedan Ye said as he stood next to the zombie. The creature howled and tried to bite at him, futilely jerking its neck while bound securely with metal chains. "Their bodies are always on the verge of falling apart, but they keep moving. They have no thought, but they are always on the hunt. Their hearts don't beat, their blood don't flow, and yet somehow… something… is powering their muscles into motion."

"The only way to really stop them is to destroy the brain!" said Einar. He raised his axe high again and then with a *thwack!* slammed it into the zombie's skull.

"Eww!" Timara hissed behind the camera. "Watch the spatter!"

Einar worked the axe out and then with a repeated series of *whack!* *whack!* *whack!* reduced the zombie's head into a mush of bone, thick oozy brown fluid, and viscera.

Only then did the zombie stop moving.

"In this world, when someone dies … they rise up. They rise up again as a… thing… that wants only to kill and eat the living." Kedan Ye sighed tiredly. "They don't feel pain, they never get tired, and they never ever stop."

He huffed. "And they are billions."

The camera view began to move, to follow Kedan Ye and Einar as they moved to show they were on a rooftop. And there, beyond the edge, spread out a dead city. Below, a pack of zombies shuffled mindlessly.

There was a thumping noise of something massive moving, and a corpulent Juggernaut zombie walked on by trampling anything in its way. Its roar rang across the abandoned avenue.

-.
-.

Dr. Gilliam paused the video. "The year was 2016. We thought it was just some new virus, at worst a global pandemic. In a world where transport is easy and crossing the Atlantic can be done within a day, infection can travel all over the world several times over before anyone feels any symptoms. A dangerous event, but as a civilization we've all lived through many pandemics before.

"But when the dead started to get up and started biting people, we realized this was more than it appeared. It was happening simultaneously all over the world. In a matter of weeks, civilization just… died. We died screaming.

"Cities could contain tens of millions, and very quickly those tens of millions became tens of millions of corpses – of ravenous undead. As I said before, we served in the US Army. We did our best to protect those that remained and to try and find a cure, but zombies… it's not enough that they're undying. They're changing. Mutating. Growing stronger with weird and awful forms as time passes.

"And in the end, our government abandoned its people. They ran away, leaving all the survivors to fend for themselves, and no one knows where they went.

"Yours is a true apocalypse. We don't know how many humans manage to survive this sharp ice age, but our world population in the 1900s was about 1.6 billion. In 2016, our world population was 7.4 billion.

"We estimate nearly ninety-nine percent of humanity have died out within the year.... but they didn't stay dead. The more people are alive in one place, the more somehow they attract the undead hordes. Yours is the apocalypse of the Cold Death. Our is the apocalypse of the Living Dead."

Pleasant Bosby recoiled. "Is this not…?"

And I saw the dead, the great and the small, standing before the throne, and books were opened; and another book was opened, which is the book of life; and the dead were judged from the things which were written in the books, according to their deeds. And the sea gave up the dead which were in it, and death and Hades gave up the dead which were in them; and they were judged, every one of them according to their deeds.

Dr. Gilliam smirked. "A lot of people also thought about it in biblical terms. But if the dead rise again… and stay on Earth instead of being selected to be judged, that would be a specially cruel Revelation. The dead have risen, but if they are not to be judged, then what is the point? Only havoc. Only terror." She bared her teeth. "Only extinction."


-.
-.

Captain Clark leaned back and crossed his arms. He didn't feel like he had a way to judge if this was sufficient evidence, but these two didn't seem to be lying.

The Great Freeze was the greater calamity. It was the death of a world. It wasn't just human extinction, but many species had already gone extinct. It was not a thing that could be fought, only endured.

But… it also didn't seem personal. This one just felt somehow malicious, targeted exclusively to humanity. Were the people of the hundred years future being punished for some sort of hubris?

Or was it an attack?

"Is this what you want from us? Well… with the help of those youngsters, I suppose we would have enough ability to give some refuge. If whatever peculiar… curse… affecting your world doesn't cross over."

Dr. Gilliam shook her head. "No. I don't know about Emsi, but he's acting very sure about it – every world has its rules. It would be nice to die where we know one can really rest in peace, but that's not what we're after." She raised her palm up. "Rasheed, tag in."

The soldier slapped his palm against hers and then spoke up eagerly. "The kids have a mission, and in the fulfillment of that mission they can set up a semi-permanent portal between our Earths. What you guys need is *a warm place* to grow lots of food. What we're lacking is *manpower*. There's a difference between just survival and living. We can have that with interplanetary *trade*.

"So speaking as an American to British settlers… hey, any of you guys want to emigrate?"

Captain Clark's first instinct was to say 'no way'. If people realized that there was a way to escape to a place of warmth, they would fall all over themselves trying to cross over. It would be horrific and grotesque world, but it would not be a world of cold draped despair, every day a muted symphony of agony and stark white sameness.

He brooded silently at this brazen attack their society. It would split them in half, worse than the uprising against the previous Captain.

"Well I, for one, would be interested in seeing another world – even if it is mostly the same world. They say the past is a foreign country, and then how much more the future!" Pleasant Bosby replied in a similarly excited tone. "But alas-! I have responsibilities here. But surely, if is possible to travel between worlds, some would be open to visiting and working for a set amount of time."

Damn you old man what are you doing?

Captain Clark drummed his fingers on the table top. "Is this what Speaker Emsi was talking about? That there is a place for us?"

Vaughan shrugged. "Well… the other side can't support five hundred people. Not yet. But worst comes to worst, there's an escape hatch going either way."

Captain Clark shut his eyes tight and tried to force through the pulsing pain behind his eyebrows. "Power flows through the consent of the governed," he said slowly. He grit his teeth and clenched his fists. "I… will always do what is best for my people."

-.
-.

Later:

Monika had raised a new freestanding structure to serve as their own private domicile. Inside, amid a bed of furs and blankets, Natsuki sat on MC's lap and trapped in a hug while the other girls looked on bemusedly.

With a "Nyoh!" Sayori leaped to join the hug.

"Dammit you guys!" Natsuki squirmed and groaned. No use trying to escape. This was Genma Saotome's Cradle From Hell Technique. "I'm perfectly ok!"

"You scared the shit out me, Natsuki," MC hissed, and nuzzled the back of her neck like a cat. Like she was the cat.

"Nyeek!" Natsuki squirmed again, tickled and blushing. "I told you. I had it handled."

"No, you didn't." Suddenly MC's voice was hard and pitiless. "Damn it, Natsuki. Our mutual empathic bond only transmits *emotion*. Even if you feel under control, all it takes is a surprise attack and then you're dead and then… what about us? What about the pain we have, that you left behind?!"

"It's selfish," Sayori said softly. "… It won't end the pain, it will only hurt those care about you." Only someone driven to suicide could speak so confidently about it. "It's cruel."

Yuri stared down at Natsuki with cool contempt. "Pathetic. Trying to help people without caring for yourself. If you had actually died, do you think anyone could have saved them from our revenge?"

"You… you wouldn't do that, would you? You're… you're good people."

MC laughed darkly into the crook of her neck, and Natsuki flushed red even more. She felt warm and protected, even as his embrace tightened and Sayori's outer hug felt more like strong chains. "Oh, Natsuki… not even Sayori is that naïve."

"Nope," the girl cheerfully added, her dopey grin wide below cold dead blue eyes.

Yuri looked as remote as ever, and Monika fidgeted in her seat near the wall. Sure, she was trying to be a good person and no longer quite so murderous… but if the consensus was murder, then Monika would hardly go against the group.

MC hummed. "You know… how it is that tragedy in Grecian drama is not caused by flaws in a person's character, but their virtues? It is not only hubris that is punished by the Gods – but that characters have their own moral justifications for what they do. It is tragic because they do all that they ought to do according to their moral or social foundations.

"Otherwise, evil people being punished in the end is not irony and is really just poetic justice."

"Mmm. Yeah. Okay." Natsuki looked towards Yuri. Literary criticism was more Yuri's thing, she just knew what she liked and for her the simple things were the best things. "I get it. I won't try to act like some sort of superhero anymore."

"This whole cult thing shouldn't be allowed to get into your head," said Yuri. "Just because they call you Saint doesn't mean you should allow yourself to be trapped by their expectations. We shouldn't be sacrificing ourselves for abstract reasons."

Natsuki sighed. "Yeah. I get it."

"MC, we really should be careful this... whole cult thing... doesn't get out of hand," said Sayori.

"I made my choices." MC hummed. "I really want you to understand… that I mean what I say to the fullest possible extent… that all the gods are bastards and I hate them. I hate them. I hate them. I HATE THEM." He kissed the back of Natsuki's neck, and then his finger were like claws digging tightly, desperately, to her flesh. "I love you, and I hate them."

Natsuki squeaked, and then fell silent, feeling the frantic need in his embrace. Their bond boiled with desolation and anguish, and as he snuggled into her shoulder she could feel him shaking. Loneliness and rage. Something behind memories lost still pushed them onwards into their terrible purpose.

"If they're not going to take care of any of these worlds, then I am taking their faith away from them."


-.
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