We fell into a rhythm. My clones acted as forward scouts, accompanying both Jack and Rickson, as we made our way back to the exit.

“If we run into trouble, don’t hesitate to leave me behind,” Ninth told Rickson.

“You said you feel everything your other selves do… are you sure?” He asked, uncertain.

“Positive.” Eighth replied, having a variation of the same conversation with Jack.

There was no need for them to accompany my clones but both claimed it would help them level. Their lives weren’t my responsibility and so as long as they were aware, I had no right nor reason to stop either of them.

Meanwhile, my original self walked ahead of Sixth who allowed me a third-person perspective of myself. By watching my original self’s entire surroundings, nothing by way of a regular approach would go unnoticed. Including one from my shadow.

Ahead of me, Parker along with some men and women with applicable Skills in actual combat took the vanguard. Nearby, Rose and Gary. Seventh took the rearguard, further back than even Sixth.

Our trip back was actually less eventful than before although there was a renewed sense of uncertainty and paranoia in the air. We were able to navigate away from most dangers, only taking fights we were completely ready for. I wasn’t sure how that affected our gains, but we didn’t come away empty-handed.

“The place gives me the creeps,” Jack commented, his quiet voice easily carrying across the silence.

The forest was tinged blue, shrouded in just enough shadow to make people see things. Sometimes things that were actually there. The lowlight, along with the unfamiliar flora and fauna, made everything uncanny. Normal one moment, alien the next. I’d realized over the course of the week that I was actually seeing better than everyone else, my PER attribute at play no doubt.

“It’s not exactly welcoming, is it?” I said pausing slightly as I caught a pair of eyes along the treeline. They disappeared as I spotted them. And that was normal. “It’s like the entire place is watching us.” I wasn’t sure if anyone realized how true that rang.

Eventually, we came to a stop. It was hard to gauge the day and night cycle here. Gary took the lead in those matters, either having an impressive internal clock or somehow understanding the fatigue of the group as a whole. I was leaning towards the latter, almost certain he had employed some kind of Skill during the encounter with the nightmare ifrits.

I found myself with relative privacy for the first time in a while. I shrugged off my [Spidersilk Backpack]. Rolling my shoulders, I reached inside and came away with the small container that had been dominating my thoughts recently.

I held up the small glass jar against the moonlight. The blue liquid moved on occasion, minutely, almost as if it were nervous. Or perhaps… weakened. Dormant. Yet unmistakably alive.

Item: [Regenerator’s Symbiote]

An organism that binds to a single host. Once bound the symbiote improves all biological functions, increases vitality, and enhances recovery effects upon the host.

- CON increased by 10.

- Natural regeneration and recovery effects increased by 80%.

I shuddered, staring at it, but I couldn’t disregard its effects. Seeing as the thing came from an [Epic Boss Chest], I couldn’t even estimate its worth. That epic modifier, that purple glow I’d witnessed, was in a realm of its own. Not to mention it came from a boss chest, which likely connotated greater rewards in and of itself.

With both combined?

Every single thing received from my encounter with the [Rootmother Hivemind] was a precious treasure. Aside from the [Ring of the Hivemind], Third had been testing the [Living Armor] to great effect. It turned away the mundane blades of goblins and was semi-reactive to his thoughts. Sturdy beyond reason, breathable, adaptable. It was hard to find any downside to it.

The symbiote was more… invasive than any of the others, not something to just ‘put on’. It was undoubtedly powerful if I were taking the system at face value, though I couldn’t be certain there were no consequences of letting something bond with me on a biological level. Essentially letting an alien lifeform tie itself to me, in whatever form that took.

What consequence beyond just extra stats would that entail?

The nightmare ifrits, along with the uneasy danger I was constantly feeling, had forced the issue. I was acutely aware of any injury, three of myselves were currently wounded. Seventh had been bitten across the shoulder by a mouth as large as his head, Ninth had a more superficial gash across the chest, and Eighth had been stabbed in the arm.

If my original body suffered those injuries…

I was keeping it together. The problem was I felt everything. It did wonders for my mood. I suspected that was the reason WIL factored into the [Never Alone] Skill because it was needed to withstand negative sensory overload.

I popped the cork, watching the symbiote react. It bubbled as I brought it to eye level, roused. It wiggled and sloshed, moving to one side of the bottle as if fearful. Inching forward as if curious.

That blatant display of even slight intelligence gave me immediate pause.

“Evahn.”

I nearly jumped to my feet.

I somehow missed his approach and jerked slightly, covering the jar. Jack caught my surprise. “Ah sorry.” He said sheepishly. “It’s a new Skill, [Silent Approach]. Came with the levels.” He explained.

Though it was less his sound and more the [Darkwoven Cloak] covering his figure that allowed my surprise. Most of my clones were looking outward and the one looking inward had been focused on the edges of the camp.

“Sorry.” I breathed, relaxing my posture. My free hand had instinctively gone for my knife, a sad reflection of my reality. “Did you need something?”

“Nothing, just to talk, if you don’t mind.” He said, holding two skewers of meat. Dinner using the processed meats from his [Day’s Hunt] Skill.

I smiled, grabbed the offered skewer, and gestured nearby. “Be my guest.”

Jack took a seat beside me. “You sure you’re staying?” He asked me. “This place is maddening.”

“Already made up my mind.” I shrugged, biting off a morsel of sweet and savory meat. “I think the best thing for anyone right now is to become strong enough to survive. The Dungeon might be a blessing in that regard, something for us to throw ourselves against.”

Memories of Horace and bodies came unbidden, of ruin and destruction. All the helpless people. Mindless thralls walking around the clearing, walking to their deaths.

“You know the majority are leaving, right?” Jack asked, glancing at the mingling people. “And the more people that go means fewer people are left. It gets more dangerous.”

“I… might have dealt with worse, to be honest,” I said, softly.

“Somehow I don’t doubt that.” Jack looked at me oddly. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Jesus, you’re three years younger than me.” He chuckled, leaning back, looking towards my small fire. “World’s gone to hell, man. It truly fucking has.”

“You’re just realizing that?” A genuine laugh at the sheer accuracy of the statement escaped me before I settled down as it sunk in. “No kidding.”

We spoke about nothing for quite some time. It was a conversation with no meaning, no context or substance, but it simply was. And for that, it was something more. I found myself unwinding, letting down my mental burdens, if only for a single conversation.

In the end, he took his leave after the better part of an hour, having to take his turn on the rotating watch. I felt confident watching with just my clones but extra eyes weren’t unwelcome.

Once I was alone again, I pulled out the jar, my hand covering it.

And the symbiote wasn’t there anymore.

Slightly panicked, I checked my ‘status’ as Rickson had been referring to it. That strange culmination of my person. My eyes darted to the CON attribute.

Name: Evahn Wynst

Level: 23

Title: [Trailblazing Vanquisher of the Hivemind]

Traits: [Regenerator]

Class: [Solo]

STR: 16

CON: 27

DEX: 15

AGI: 16

PER: 19

INT: 20 + 5

WIS: 27 + 5

WIL: 29 + 5

CHA: 14 + 5

LUK: 14

Stat Points: 18

Skills: [Never Alone], [Low Profile], [Solo’s Instinct], [Solo’s Sanctuary], [Telepathy]

I immediately found the value had risen from 17, heart speeding up. Then I saw something else entirely, mental gaze drawn to a new section of the status. Traits. And I was immediately flooded with what they entailed. A Trait defined an exceptional quality or characteristic, generally one which was inherent to an individual.

In my case… I took a breath, resigned to accept the conclusion I’d come to after seeing the empty jar, perfectly sealed off with my hand and with no symbiote within. I wanted to slap myself, realized I could, and then instead took a breather with that mental image.

Trait: [Regenerator]

You are, in some way or another, exceptionally suited to recovering from injury. A mutualistic symbiont lives within you, improving your constitution and enriching biological functions. The symbiont enhances natural recovery and coordinates external healing effects.

- CON increased by 10.

- Natural regeneration and recovery effects increased by 80%.

It had the exact effects of the Item, only it was now an intrinsic part of me. I stared at my hands, my arms, waiting. Waiting for some wave of nausea or wrongness to hit me, some feeling under my skin, in my flesh. I focused my perception inward, leveraging every sense I had to focus on my internal understanding of my body.

And I felt better than I’d ever felt. Alive. Back then, when I had ‘become’ the [Trailblazing Vanquisher of the Hivemind], the influx of stats was mind-boggling. I’d barely had time to trace them all, and with each one increased similarly, it was as if I’d just become suddenly more.

Now I felt my body as biology intended. I remember reading somewhere that very few people could claim they knew what health felt like. I understood that now. There was living as one did, and there was this. It was like my body was brimming with energy, inexplicably restored.

I opened and closed my hands, amazed.

It was funny how weak I could feel, how vulnerable, with so many instances of myself running around. That had always just been nine more me’s. As odd as it sounded, they didn’t make me feel anymore capable in the strength of my person.

This was different than any of my Skills. It was me, plain and simple. And, slowly exploring my raw capabilities, it was reassuring to see tangible growth. To not just see these numbers but be certain in their application.

In this apocalypse, I was sure that was something precious.