All of this is beside the point. I seek my goals and you seek yours. Despite your belief though our goals aren’t opposed. We could seek them together and accomplish them together but your blind stubbornness remains an obstacle we cannot overcome.

I collapse into a folding chair in the command tent, thoughts whirling uncontrollably in my head. The interior of the tent is separated from the fresh air and stars by a thick canvas material, which Peter has closed off to allow as much privacy as a tent can offer. A mix of different LED lanterns illuminate the interior, and I see a stack of papers on the table in the center of the structure. The air is warm inside. Not Helldarvian hot, but even if it were I wouldn’t care. Not right now.

Peter, slowly and carefully as to not upset me, reaches underneath the table with the documents and pulls out another chair. Unfolding it, he places it next to where I’m sitting. Close enough to show support, but not so close that it’s uncomfortable. Like me, he too falls into his seat, but instead of being lost in thought he just sits there, looking at me with concern and wariness in his eyes.

Silence reigns in the tent for a little while as Peter tries to give me some time to process. I stare at the ground as I try to comprehend the death of a family member, something that has never happened to me. Mine was a small, close family; I was an only child with four cousins and Marc was the only one who grew up in the same town. He had been a staple of my childhood, the closest thing to a blood sibling I had ever had. And he was dead.

“How did he die?”

My question cuts through the silence, and Craig shuffles at the sudden noise. He looks to Peter, then back to me. But Peter keeps looking at only me, trying to process his own slew of emotions and feelings. Not just about Marc’s passing, but about my return as well.

The memories I’d taken from his mind hadn’t really clarified the nature of Marc’s death, since Peter had only heard of it second-hand from Craig. I could pry deeper, if I were to use a Skill, but I’d stopped using Passive Search as soon as the revelation of my cousin’s death hit my conscious mind. I’m fairly certain I already know the answer but for this, at least for this, I want to hear the words out loud.

Peter stretches. The concern he has for me, for how I’m handling this is still in his eyes, but his voice takes on a harsher, unexpected tone. And he answers my questions with one of his own.

“How did you know Marc died?”

If I was still using Passive Search, I would have had some type of warning the conversation was going to head this way. As it stands now, I’m completely taken aback. That was a crafty question on his part, as well as a huge screw up on mine. He had been just as innocent as me before the arrival of Genesis. I can’t assume that I’m the only one that has changed, even if the people on Earth had it happen only fifteen days ago. I may have been surviving in a cutthroat world, but they were surviving the collapse of civilization.

Each one causes growth in some way.

“Not now... Tell me what’s happened first.”

I can tell Peter is struggling with my answer, wanting the answer to his question immediately, but for the sake of our friendship he nods in reluctant agreement.

I look up at him and wipe the new tears away. The time for sorrow has come and gone and now my practical side has once again regained control. I nod my head for him to begin.

He looks me square in the eye and speaks with a confident tone of voice, something he’d always had difficulty with in the past. “Things have not gone well since Genesis showed up.” Peter gets out of his chair and signals that I should join him as he leans over the table in the center, covered in maps and marks.

“The geographic shift didn’t hit us too badly up here, but it was devastating in the cities. Everwall was able to avoid debilitating damage, so it has sort of become the focal point of the region. I’ve heard rumors from some refugees of another city to the south, but we’ve been focused on charting out the north as it seems that is where most of the beasts are coming from. Craig over here was a cartographer and has been invaluable”.

He gestures over at the bearded man who takes the introduction as a way to enter into the conversation, joining us at the table and laying out his thoughts.

“Aye, tha lad is partially right. Tha maps are good as a base but nae work for more. Tha shift moved mountains, rivers, hills, and even forests around. Twas too much to map out in a few days.” He looks as if he is going to continue to expound the changes in geography, but Peter silences him with a smile and a gesture, a disarming display of friendly leadership that also demonstrates his control over his group.

He then starts pointing at four of the outlying towns that surround Everwall, a few drawn on to belie the fact that they only appeared during the shift. “Of the four serious towns that surrounded Everwall, only Oak Ridge is still functioning. The rest have packed up and moved into the city for protection from the beasts. The last communication we had with Everwall seemed to suggest that the population is approaching 22,000 and that they are worried about food. Rationing was put into place but they can’t last for more than a month or so.”

I quickly interrupt him before he can go any further. “Do you have any news about the rest of my family? My parents?”

He lets out a sardonic laugh at my question. “I was actually just about to tell you. Evidently your mom has taken charge of the City Council in Everwall and is running things there. So, at least in that sense, nothing has changed”

A sigh of relief escapes me, and I follow it with a grim laugh at his joke. He isn’t too far off the mark. My mother had always been powerful individual, influencing the people of our town to accomplish what she wanted. She’d always stayed out of the limelight, preferring the power of subtle machinations, but her preferences were probably disregarded in the current crisis. Say what you will about Mary King, she does what is necessary.

My thoughts are interrupted by Craig, his eyes going wide and looking at me in complete shock. “Oh shite, yah Queen King’s son?”

Peter and I stare at him for a second and both chuckle slightly, the tension of our situation eased if just for a second. Both he and I know my mother’s reputation and have joked about it since we became friends so many years ago. The noise slowly dying away, I nod my head.

He turns to Peter and looks at him incredulously. “Yah want to tell mah why yah never mentioned yah were mates with her son? Why yah almost let us attack him? She woulda killed mah!”

Peter looks back at me, all cheerfulness and gaiety draining out of his face in an instant. “He was randomly selected. I couldn’t take the risk”

Once again he is mentioning the randomly selected with fear and loathing, confusing me.

“This the second time you’ve mentioned the randomly selected. Why do you fear me and what does it have to do with Marc’s death?”

“Answer me and I’ll tell you everything that I know.”

My eyes drift over to Craig. As much as he seems like a trustworthy person, I’m not willing to give away the secret of one of my Skills in front of him. Peter quickly catches on and gestures to him. Craig looks at me suspiciously but follows the order, leaving the tent and closing the flap behind him.

“I have … a Skill that allows me to … extract information. Your reaction confused me and so I reached into your mind and looked for things concerning the randomly selected. That’s when I stumbled onto your knowledge of Marc’s death.”

His face goes through a host of emotions as I give him the explanation, flitting from fear to outrage and finally settling on caution. After a few moments of silence he looks me straight in the eyes. “For the sake of our friendship, I’ll forgive this one time, but if you want to remain friends, never reach into my mind again.”

I nod my head in assent, not willing to throw away one of my few friendships. If he wants the sanctity of his mind to remain intact then I will respect that. “In return don’t mention this to anyone else. Evidently people don’t trust me and I don’t need this adding to their suspicions.”

He lets out a little sigh of relief and settles down into his chair, running his hands through his hair. “The reason people are afraid of you is because the only other randomly selected person we’ve had contact with was a murderous psychopath. He killed most of the people in Eagleton, a major reason why they abandoned their town, and then killed Marc in a sanctioned battle inside of Everwall. I wasn’t there, but Craig told me that the man moved quicker than he could see and that he walked away afterwards, telling the people to get stronger. It terrified everyone and was part of the reason your mom was able to gain control so quickly. Terrified people turn towards people who say they know the answer.”

I digest his words for a few moments. If I’m being honest, I’m a little surprised that another transplant had ended up in the same area as me. With only 8 of us returned the chances of that happening … it strikes me as a strange coincidence. Despite my anger towards him, I feel a degree of sympathy, understanding his position better than anyone else could. No one on Earth can possibly understand the fear that accompanies being dropped on a random Dungeon World and the tenacity and drive required to survive. Perhaps … perhaps the stress broke his mind and made him obsessed with strength. It isn’t outside the realm of reason.

Peter interrupts my thoughts, staring at me with cautious curiosity. “I told you all that has happened here. Your turn. Where the hell have you been?”

“I was … look, how much do people on Earth know about Genesis?”

He leans back in the chair and considers it for a few seconds. “I mean, some of my Hunters have theories but nothing concrete apart from the notifications that appeared during the arrival and shift. Why?

“Well there is a whole lot more to understand and I expect I only know a small portion.”

Peter stares at Cael in complete shock as he finishes his tale, regaling him with stories of surviving on a ‘Dungeon World’ for nearly 500 days, training with an alien and a fungus monster, and mastering different forms of magic, although he calls them ‘Mana Skills’. It sounds too ridiculous to be true, like a cheap fantasy book bought from a street vendor, but his completely serious face belies the truth of the story.

Unable to comprehend the complexity of what this means for his Hunters, Peter paces around the command tent for a few minutes, frequently pausing as if to ask a question and then shaking his head and pacing some more. His mind races with the implications, but he is also blown away by the supposed strength and mental fortitude of his friend. No wonder the other randomly selected person went insane. To survive on a foreign world, surrounded by vicious beasts … in a moment of complete honesty, Peter realizes he doesn’t think he would have survived.

He finishes pacing and then falls back into his uncomfortable folding chair, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. After a few seconds he looks up at Cael, calmly staring at him, and asks, “So what are you going to do now that you are back?”

The man staring back at him with resolute will in his eyes may look like his childhood friend, but Peter recognizes the power in his gaze and, for the first time in his life, he realizes that he is scared of what he is capable of. “I’m going to go see my parents, get my bearings, and then I’m going to become Primus”