A bath.

How would you take a bath without power?

Well, one would just grab a towel, dip it in some water, and wipe themselves off. That was basically how Trace Taylor had been doing it ever since the power went out. Unfortunately, it was not as hygienic or as refreshing as bathing in a real shower.

It annoyed the redhead quite a bit. She really wished she could just soak in a hot tub and let all her worries melt away. Well, apparently, that seemingly unattainable dream was now plausible.

“H-how? …” Trace stared at Brandon with wide eyes as he beamed.

“We managed to connect the power grid in this block to our magitech generator,” he said, gesturing at the sink. He turned the tap and water poured out— actual hot water. “The generator can’t power the whole commune just yet, and we can’t keep it active twenty-four-seven, but we can keep it active long enough for you to take a quick bath.”

“Make that a long bath.” She switched off the tap, not wanting to waste any precious hot water. “Now, where’s the bathroom?”

Brandon, however, was uncertain. “But Liz and the others will want—”

“I’m fine,” a voice cut him off. Elizabeth Evergreen sat on the sofa in the breakroom of the police station. “I just wanna lie down and sleep.”

“I do suggest at least considering a bath,” Adair Russell piped up from beside her, pinching his nose.

“Hey, are you saying I smell?”

“Ah, as you would say it— no cap.”

“That’s not what that means—”

Trace shrugged, turning back to Brandon. “There you have it.”

“You can find the showers down the hall to the left.” The Magitech Engineer pointed past her. “No one should be using them right now, so you’ve got it all to yourself.”

* * *

“Ouch— fuck.” The redhead grimaced as she put on her clothes after her bath was finished.

[Is something the matter, Trace Taylor?] Ex asked, concerned. [Was the shower not to your liking?]

“No, Ex. It was fine. It was mostly relaxing. But my everything still fucking hurts.”

Putting on socks was especially hard considering the damage she’d taken to her leg— self-inflicted, too. She had the brilliant idea of using Last in the Chamber to propel her away from Janus. However, even though she had been bleeding her…

Trace ran a hand over her skin. She flinched. It still hurt. The flesh was tender and soft, stained with dried blood. Other than walking with a bit of a limp? She was fine.

And that continued to amaze the redhead.

“How?”

[Did I not explain this before, Trace Taylor? Your heightened vitality allows you to recover from wounds far faster than as a regular, unenhanced human.”

“It’s just that… I expected to be out of commission for a while.” Trace laughed as she got to her feet. “But I think I’ll be fully recovered in a day or two now.”

[Is that not a good thing?] Ex asked, intrigued.

“Normally, yes. But when you want to shirk your duties and just rest for a few days, it becomes problematic.”

[Affirmative. It seems there is still a lot I have yet to learn about how humans work.]

“That you do,” Trace laughed and started for the locker room’s exit. She paused when she saw a figure standing there.

“Am I interrupting?” Veronica Vargas smiled as she lightly rapped against the doorway.

Instantly, the redhead flushed and stumbled back. “No— I mean, I was just talking to…”

“Your AI, right.”

“R-right. How’d you know that?” Trace stared at the police chief.

“I do that, too— when I’m alone,” Veronica said, entering the locker room. “We all do. Don’t be too embarrassed about it.”

That didn’t do much to reassure the redhead. Quickly changing the subject, she said, “So, what’s up Veronica?”

“I heard about what happened at the Onyx Lair.”

“Oh, that.”

Veronica stopped right before her. “Liz and Adair are worried about you. You… went through a lot. Firstly, with the women. And the fighting. But most importantly—”

“I killed a man, right,” Trace said, shifting her legs. “I don’t see why that matters. He was a dipshit— a grade A fuckface. He deserved it.”

“I know. But even then, you’re young. You’ve never… done anything right it before. It can be traumatic for someone your age.”

“I appreciate your concern for my mental health, Veronica, I really do. But I’m fine.” She started for the doorway, but Veronica raised a hand to stop her.

“I knew you’d say that. It’s hard to accept help when you don’t want it. Honestly, I was like you once.” The police chief chuckled.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Hardheaded,” she said without hesitation. “With a sense of justice.”

“I know you meant that as a compliment, but I take slight offence to how quickly you said that.” Trace scowled.

“You should. It’s not always a good thing.” Veronica grinned as the scowl on Trace’s face tightened. “Look, it has its ups. You wouldn’t be who you are if you weren’t as stubborn as you are. But there are downsides, too.”

“What kind of downsides, huh? That I’m an idiot?”

“No, that you’ll push yourself too hard and reach a breaking point because of it.”

“That doesn’t sound like me at all.” Trace folded her arms. “I’ve never had a breakdown or anything like that.”

“What about lashing out at others?”

Trace blinked. Her fists tightened as she thought about her parents— all the arguments they often had. It felt like it was all over petty reasons now, but she remembered the pressure she felt. The expectations they had of her. It was not what she wanted at all. And that resulted in their clashes.

“That’s…”

“I get you, Trace. I really do.” Veronica placed a hand on the redhead’s right shoulder. “That’s why I’m going to ask you to take a break.”

“A break?”

“Take the next week off. You don’t have to force yourself, Trace. I know I pushed these responsibilities on you, but you’re still young. You deserve to rest.”

It sounded enticing, but— “But what about Liz? Or Adair? Or even Jeremy and the officers?”

“The new recruits will be given some time to recuperate as well.” The police chief nodded reassuringly at Trace. “And I told Liz to take a break, too, but whether or not she’ll actually rest or go delving into a Dungeon is not something I’d be able to ensure.”

“…of course.” Knowing the sable-tressed Swordsmaiden, Trace was sure it was likely going to be the latter option.

“But you?” Veronica shook her head. “You want to take a long break, don’t you?”

“I actually do,” the redhead admitted.

“So, take it. Go back to The Evergreen Gun Range and take a long nap. Laze around. Maybe read a few books. I even have a few Superman comic books lying around from my childhood I could lend you.”

“Oh, that’s fine—”

[Accept it, Trace Taylor,] Ex quickly said, before the redhead could turn the offer down.

“I mean— I’d greatly appreciate it, Veronica.”

The police chief smiled for a moment. But when Trace asked the next question, she pursed her lips.

“What about Adair?” Trace asked. “You didn’t mention him.”

“Adair is… more complicated.” Veronica sighed.

“How so?”

“Let’s just say we’ll need his help with things, alright?” She waved a hand dismissively. “His expertise is needed for a few things.”

“Hmm, alright.” Clearly, Veronica didn’t want to talk about it, so Trace didn’t prod her further. Still, the question sat on the back of her mind, even as she accepted her brief break.

Once the police chief left, Trace found herself walking down the halls of the stations, speaking to her AI.

[Why do you seem displeased?]

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She closed her eyes as she took in a heavy breath. “Here I am, taking a vacation, as others continue to work tirelessly, just because I may be traumatised over giving some bastard what he deserves.”

[So, you do not find murder to be upsetting, then,] Ex said, to which she backtracked a bit.

“It is… kind of upsetting. But more in the, ‘Why the fuck are you such a bloody arsehole,’ kind of way. Like, ‘I wouldn’t have to do this if you had some basic human decency, fucking prick,’ kind of upset.”

[That seems very specific.]

“It is very specific.” Trace blinked as she stepped out of the police station and into the streets of the commune. She shivered, adjusting her red scarf. “Fuck, it’s cold.”

The city was painted more gloomily than usual than usual. The dead trees desaturated the scenery— there were no longer carpets of dried autumn leaves smearing the concrete pavements with vibrant shades ranging from beige to ocher. Death which had coloured the city with a final breath of life just before the coming of winter.

Trace glanced back once. “If Brandon doesn’t get the power running for the entire commune before snow starts to fall, then…” A lot of people were going to die from the freezing weather.

[That does not seem likely,] Ex interjected. [With the prevalence of magic, creating a simple fire for heating would not be too difficult.]

“Not everyone is a Spellcaster, Ex.” Trace rolled her eyes, starting down the street. “And not everyone is just blindly throwing themselves into dangerous situations to level up. Even if one in every hundred people in the commune die to the cold, that’s still dozens or even hundreds of preventable deaths. Maybe thousands if the commune continues to grow at the current rate over the next month or two.”

[I think I can see your point.]

A few folks waved at Trace as she made her way back to The Evergreen Gun Range. Her face and her name was starting to spread around the commune. At this point, most people had heard of the redheaded girl with a gun who protected the city.

It embarrassed Trace a little bit. Not enough to stop her from being polite and waving back, but it definitely caused her face to burn even in the chilly autumn weather.

“I hate this attention.”

“Trace!” a familiar voice called out.

The redhead blinked and turned to the middle-aged couple. Meryl and Stan, friends she made while working on the wall, approached her. Their necks were wrapped with towels, and they looked tired, as though they had just left the construction site a few minutes ago. Which made sense since The Evergreen Gun Range was quite close to the commune’s edges.

“It has been a while since we last saw you,” Stan said, panting slightly. “Where have you been?”

“Don’t be so imposing. You’re too direct at times, dear.”

Trace smiled as she glanced between the two Builders. “Hey Stan, hey Meryl. Sorry I haven’t been helping out at the wall recently. Duty calls, y’know?” She gestured at her sidearm, only to realise that it mgiht’ve seemed like a threat a moment after.

Fortunately, neither interpreted it as such. “Is it because of that incident with that gang a few days ago?” Merely leaned forward conspiratorially. “I heard they set fire to a few apartments and injured a dozen officers.”

“It’s not a secret, but yeah.”

“Oh, dear.”

“What? What happened?” Stan frowned, putting a hand to his ear. “Something about a deer?”

“That’s not it at all. It’s about that gang,” Meryl said.

“What? That thang?”

“That gang,” she raised her voice.

Stan snapped his fingers. “Right. Those thugs everyone’s been yapping about.”

Trace stared with a raised brow, slightly confused. “Erm, is something wrong?”

Meryl turned to her and apologised. “Sorry, his hearing aids broke the other day.” The older woman gestured at Stan as he played with something in his ear. “I think it might’ve been because of all the loud noises in the construction site.”

“I just can’t seem to get this darn thing to work,” the middle-aged man grumbled as he removed his hearing aid.

The redhead glanced between the pair. Her gaze fixed on the small gadget Stan was holding. “Actually, can I take a look at that?” she asked loudly.

“What? This thing? Sure.” Stan’s voice was in a state of permanent talk-yelling. It made Trace flinch a little, but she knew it wasn’t because he was being rude.

She accepted the hearing aid and peered at it, all sorts of thoughts and ideas running through her head. “I… can fix this,” she finally said.

“You can?” Meryl stared at her, a pleasant look of surprise on her face. “Well, it makes sense. Kids these days are good with electronics, right?”

“No, it’s not that.” Trace laughed softly. “It’s my craft. As a Tinker, I can fix and create things. And according to my skill, Tinker’s Mind, I can fix this without a problem.”

“What?” Stan asked, and Meryl sighed.

“Trace says she can help fix your hearing aid.” The older woman pressed her lips into a thin line. “Are you sure, Trace? We don’t want to trouble you…”

“It’s fine, really.” Trace smiled, waving a hand off. “It’s no trouble at all.”

“What?” Stan said and turned to her. “Are you sure? We don’t want to trouble you,” he repeated his wife’s question.

“Oh, stop it, you. Trace already said yes.” Meryl spoke loudly into his ear. “Say thank you.”

“Ouch, you don’t need to yell, woman.” He rubbed at his ear as she rolled her eyes. “Thank you, Trace.”

The redhead once again found herself in an uncomfortable position. “O-of course. I’ll return the hearing aid to you by tomorrow, alright? See you guys around!” She hurriedly took her leave and waved goodbye at the couple.

“Look, all your yelling scared her away.”

“What? She’s three times my level, Meryl. How am I scaring—”

Once she was far enough away, Trace took a look at the hearing aid once more. She rubbed her thumb over it as her lips curled up into a grin. “I think I just found out how to spend my time over this break, Ex,” she said and pocketed it. “We’re going to level up my craft.”

Her AI’s response was not what she expected. [Aw, I thought we were finally going to get to read superhero comic books.]

Trace snorted. “We are. But we’ll be doing this on the side as well. Just because I’m on break doesn’t mean I’m going to literally just sit around and spend all day and night doing nothing productive.”

Ex paused. [Why not? …]