A wall was being built around the commune. Or at least, the foundations for a wall.

“We went around, asked for volunteers, and these folks were kind enough to offer their services,” Jeremy explained to the redhead as he nodded at the Builders behind him.

“And they just… said yes?”

Trace Taylor blinked. She turned to Jeremy for answers. He was one of the officers in charge of the commune— specifically, Veronica’s partner. He had helped her apprehend Adair the night he broke into The Evergreen Gun Range.

“They did, yes.” Jeremy folded his arms, curled-lipped in satisfaction. “Fact is, everyone here just wants to help out. Ain’t that right, boys?”

“That’s right!” A man sauntered away from the scaffolding. He had a towel hugging the back of his neck, soaked in sweat. “We’re building a wall, and we’re going to keep those damn aliens out!”

“Yo,” someone said from the back, “that sounds kinda racist.”

The man groaned. He rectified his statement. “We’re going to keep those damn monsters out. There, happy?”

“Now you just sound like you’re calling them monsters. And that’s even more racist.”

“You know what? Fuck you—”

There were about a dozen Builders in total. Which was not a lot. But there were also non-Builders here, too. Those whose vocations were tied to construction by a loose strand; they laboured with just as much ardour as the Builders amongst them.

These men and women had been forced out of their homes, just like many others had been when Neo Genesis happened. Now, they were given a sanctuary. A haven for the sane and the worried to gather in safety, away from the insanity that was the rest of the world. And it was being attacked.

Attacked by simple monsters, yes. Trace knew that that was the ostensible explanation they’d been given. However, her eyes landed on the glittering archway downtown— at the heart of Liberapolis. A pure white structure that seemed translucent amongst the reflective skyscrapers protectively girdling it.

That was where Sam had gone. And that was where the Precursors of Peace were going to gather.

Veronica had been worried that the organisation— a supposed group of terrorists— would try something. So, Trace knew that this wall was just as much to keep them out as it was to keep monsters out. Not that it was the most effective method to achieve this: it could be torn down with ease by anything or anyone of a high enough level.

Regardless, it was added security. And Trace approved of it.

“Let me help out,” she volunteered without hesitation.

Jeremy turned to her, frowning. “You want to help build this wall?”

“Yes,” she said and gestured at herself. “I’m a Builder too. Been fixing up The Evergreen Gun Range pretty much every day since this whole end-of-the-world thing started.”

“You’ve already helped out plenty, Trace. There’s no need to force yourself.

“I’m not forcing myself. Look, if I didn’t want to help, I wouldn’t suggest it, alright? Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“But what about your leg?” Jeremy asked curiously.

“My leg?” The redhead glanced down at it.

He nodded, still apprehensive. “You injured it a week ago. Could barely even walk. I saw you tripping over nothing because of it.”

“I’m fine… I think? My leg gave in on me a few times during the battle with the durable serpentfiend, but that was only after pushing myself too much. If it’s just some physical labour,”— Trace pointed at the skeleton of a wall— “then I can help without a problem.”

Jeremy glanced between her and his workers. Eventually, he conceded. “Fine. But don’t injure yourself on the job. Veronica will chew my ass if she finds out you tore a hamstring while picking up a stack of bricks.”

Trace snorted. “So, what should I do?”

He gave her some instructions and sent her on her way. Before beginning work, Trace stretched away the soreness in her aching muscles from the day before. When she was ready, she grabbed some tools and started immediately.

[This is most unusual,] Ex said as she reached for a hammer.

“What’s unusual about what?” she replied absentmindedly.

[Your actions, Trace Taylor. For the first time since I have met you, you are taking the initiative without outside intervention.]

“Oh, sod off.”

She greeted the other labourers, getting straight to work. The sun beat away at her as she beat away at wooden boards and iron nails. The clamour of metal on metal filled Trace’s ears, greying into the background like static from an old-fashioned television. It was afternoon before she realised it.

Trace placed her hammer on a workbench as Jeremy called out.

“Lunch break! Grab your meals here!”

The Builders streamed away from the half-built wall like the sweat that dripped down their bodies and wetted their shirts. Despite wearing a jacket and a scarf, Trace barely found herself breaking a sweat. It wasn’t a hot day; it was autumn, and she thought it rather cold. But that normally wouldn’t stop her from perspiring when carrying out arduous labour.

The thing was, however, she didn’t find herself tired. She’d been working for at least two hours yet was still pretty much refreshed. Her E endurance was at work. And she liked it.

“Is this what it feels like to be an athlete?”

“Hey, Trace, are you coming?” a voice said. It came from Stanley— one of the men who she’d been chatting with as they worked on the wall.

“I’m on my way! Let me just grab my stuff.”

Unlike everyone else who’d been provided equipment, Trace had brought her own from The Evergreen Gun Range. She grabbed her toolbox and reached for her hammer. Then she paused.

Wait, is that even mine? It looked no different from the dozens of other hammers left lying around. I’m sure it doesn’t matter if I accidentally take someone else’s hammer, right?

Shrugging, she reached to pick it up— and an idea crossed through her mind. A hammer… was a weapon, was it not? Trace thought of her skill. Her eyes lit up as the faintest of aether became visible.

Taking a step back, Trace whispered, “Recall Weapon.”

The hammer flashed. It was swallowed by a blue light and spat back out into Trace’s hand. She stared at it, grinning.

“Neat.”

She went to eat lunch.

* * *

“So, how’d you even get to level 18, anyways?” Stan— or Stanley— asked as he leaned over the table.

“Me?” Trace drew back.

“Yeah! I tried going to one of the Dungeons. They were the worst. Only levelled once and nearly lost my damn arm.” He tightly gripped his shoulder as his face twisted in shadowed pain.

“I, erm…”

“Well? …”

The woman sitting next to him placed a hand on his back. “Relax, Stan. You’re scaring her.” She was his wife— they were both around 50 years old, maybe older.

“Scaring her?” He narrowed his eyes. “Meryl, how am I scaring her? She’s the one who’s level 18! This old man is barely level 5!”

“Oh, with that face of yours, of course you’d be scaring her.”

Meryl giggled with a hand covering her face as Stan sat back down with his arms folded. He harrumphed. “Fine. But I still want to know how this young lady here reached level 18 so quickly.”

Trace shifted as the couple remembered she was there. She dug her spoon into the canned food and stirred it as she tried to come up with a response.

“Erm, I… almost died a couple times?” Honestly, she didn’t even know how to explain it. There were a bunch of monsters— some stranger than others— and they tried to kill her. So, she killed them instead. “I’m not even that high-levelled. You should ask my friend about this. She levels up faster than me.”

“Not that high-levelled? …” Stan sputtered.

There was a sudden lull in the conversations happening around them. The makeshift cafeteria grew silent as more than one face turned to Trace with a judgemental gaze. She gulped.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“I know you’re trying to be modest,” Stan said, shaking his head. “But you’re probably one of the highest-levelled people out there. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re in the top 500!”

“In the world?”

“In America.”

“Oh.”

That was still flattering, and Trace could now see why Stan looked at her that way. Not that she thought she was special. She found the attention a bit unsettling.

“Either way, we’re glad that you’re helping protect this commune.” Meryl gave her a warm smile.

“S-sure.” Trace flushed. She quickly stood up, looking for a clock or a watch to stare at. When she couldn’t find either, she raised her tin and faced Stan. “Do you, erm, know where I can find the trash?”

“Sure, it’s right over there—”

With that, she managed to excuse herself from the table. The background conversations returned as she sighed in relief, glad to be away from the spotlight.

[You’re really out of your element when you’re not arguing with someone, aren’t you?] Ex commented in a snide voice.

“Leave me alone, will you, Ex?”

[I physically cannot, Trace Taylor.]

“You know what I mean,” the redhead snorted. “I dislike being the centre of attention. And this is even worse than that.”

[Could you elaborate?]

She leant against a wall, eyeing the eating Builders from afar. “It just feels weird, alright? It’s like they’re looking at me as if I’m some kind of superhero.”

[Superhero?] he asked curiously. [I understand the meaning of both those words, but I cannot compute what you are implying.]

“A superhero. It’s… a thing? From movies.” She vaguely waved at a nearby electronics store. It was empty, and its display window was smashed. Obviously, robbed. “Or… comic thing?”

[So, they are fictional characters that exist for entertainment?]

“Something like that. It’s a bit hard to explain, y’know?”

[No, I do not know.]

“Oh my god,” she said in frustration. “I’ll show you a comic later. I’m sure Liz has one stashed in her house.”

[Affirmative.] Ex sounded pleased.

Out of all things to pique his interest, superheroes were what did it? If only Trace were a big comic nerd. Too bad she only occasionally watched movies. Although, considering everything that was going on, she didn’t think that a new movie was going to come out anytime soon. Or… ever, anymore.

Trace got back to work. The day ended with a cold wind blowing in from the north. Most of those working on the walls retired long before the redhead. She was the only one who stayed there until the end. Clouds gathered over the horizon like a closing curtain, smothering the sun of its fiery orange light.

It was night when she returned to The Evergreen Gun Range. Liz was back, polishing her Obsidian Longsword with a towel.

“Yo! Where were you all day?” the sable-tressed woman asked in her usual carefree demeanour.

“I should be the one asking you that.” Trace settled into a chair. “Didn’t see you leave this morning. Also— you broke the door again.”

“You needa make some sort of lock so I don’t gotta keep smashing my way in.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

Liz shrugged. “How am I supposed to get in?”

“Fair.” The redhead grabbed a drink and downed in. “Where were you all day, anyways?”

“Hunting.” Her best friend gestured towards the shooting range section of the building. “We can’t rely on canned food forever, so I killed some monsters.”

“And are they… edible?” Trace wrinkled her nose. She didn’t smell anything too bad coming from the other room.

“Probably. We’ll figure that out later. How about you, though? Where were you today?”

“Veronica’s having a wall built. I’m helping out.”

“Nice. I was actually thinking of asking her to create some sort of hunting party. So I’ll be in charge of something. Make myself feel important and all.” Liz twirled her weapon by its hilt, and Trace perked up.

“You could say hi to Brandon while you’re there. Catch up with him, y’know?”

“Maybe,” Liz said, standing up. “I’ll think about that next time. Anyways, wanna eat some monster parts?”

The redhead hesitated. “…fine.”

* * *

And thus, for the next few days, Trace and Liz did their things, separate from each other. The redhead continued working on the wall, from dawn to dusk, even throughout the twilight chills of autumn. She grew acclimated with the cold and the banging of hammers against walls. Until, finally, Ex said something to make her pause.

[(G) Quick Hands has reached level 10!

(G) Quick Hands has reached max level!

(F) Makeshift Materials has reached level 10!

(F) Makeshift Materials has reached max level!

(F+) Rapid Repair has reached level 10!

(F+) Rapid Repair has reached max level!

Builder has reached level 10!

You have reached level 10 in your vocation! Multiple vocation evolution options can now be chosen!]

“Oh, nice.”