The next morning the smell of ozone was even stronger, and didn’t fade as it had the previous day. It persisted all morning as John went about stripping the ears off the corn. By lunch time he’d managed maybe an eighth of the field, and the smell of ozone was only growing stronger.

After returning from his midday break, John considered whether to continue collecting the corn (a task that he estimated would take about four days) or try to hunt down the source of the smell. Having decided he couldn’t stand the smell much longer, he began searching around the farm. However, no matter where he stood the smell was uniform. Eventually he started walking down the road just to see if distance would affect it. More than halfway to town he determined it probably didn’t. Still, if the smell was permeating the area to this degree, someone had to know what it was.

Walking into town John looked around, expecting to see agitated players yet, to his surprise, everything seemed entirely normal. He walked a short distance, keeping an ear out, but heard no complaints. Finally he zeroed in on Ex’s booth and wandered over.

“Hey John.” Ex said.

“HI JOHN!” Sally exclaimed.

“Calm down sally.” Ex made a lowering motion with his hand.

“Hey guys. Do either of you smell that?” John jumped straight to the topic that’d brought him into town.

“Smell what?” Ex asked as Sally began sniffing the air industriously.

“Ozone. It’s overpowering everything and has been all day. It’s literally all I can smell!” John exclaimed, agitated.

“Weird, I don’t smell anything like that,” Ex said, giving an experimental sniff of his own.

“Nope! But I can smell corn, it’s all over you!” Sally chimed in cheerfully.

“Well yeah, I’ve been picking corn all morning, I should be picking it now except I’ve no idea what this smell is and it’s driving me nuts.”

“Maybe it’s something on you?” Excelsior considered.

Sally leaned in close to John and took a deep sniff. “Nope, or at least not that I can smell.”

“Maybe ask Grandma Loren? She knows all kinds of esoteric stuff, doesn’t she? Maybe this is something magical you’ve messed up again.” Ex leaned on the counter and grinned as he spoke.

“You’re never gonna let the ruptured core thing go, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

“Hey! There’s Grandma Loren! HEY OVER HERE!” Sally jumped and waved her arms about.

Loren, for her part, had been about to sit down when she heard her name and then turned to see the exuberant darconid. She eyed Sally, then her seat, then Sally again, and wondered how willing the girl would be to accept an ‘I’m sorry I didn’t hear you dear.’ She then tossed that idea aside as Sally started waving harder, clearly having seen Loren looking. With a sigh she started trudging over to the stand.

“What can I do for you dear?” the elderly woman said as she drew near.

“Not me! John! He’s having smelling problems!” Sally ‘explained’.

“Well tell him to take a bath then!”

John sighed. “No, my problem is that I can’t smell anything except ozone!”

“What’s ozone?” Loren asked, looking mildly annoyed and perplexed.

“The smell after a thunder storm!” Sally interjected before either John or Ex could open their mouths.

Loren froze and then looked at John intently. “John, how long have you been smelling this… ozone?”

“Well I caught a whiff of it yesterday morning, but it faded pretty quickly. But it’s been constant all throughout today.”

“Is it getting stronger?” she inquired.

“No, at least I don’t think so. It’s really hard to tell.”

“Right, I want you to imagine a powerful lightning storm, can you do that?” Loren instructed while Ex and Sally watched on, mildly interested.

“Sure, now what?”

“Now I want you to imagine it happening tomorrow.”

John immediately got a feeling that something was wrong with the image and the word “no” popped out of his mouth.

“And the day after?” Loren asked.

This time the feeling was right and something clicked.

[Basajuan Racial Prognostication Successful!]

[Impending Natural Disaster Predicted]

[Time until natural disaster: 40 hours, 52 minutes, 12 seconds.]

The smell of ozone fled John’s nostrils as his eyes popped open. “It’s a storm, an extreme one. The system says it’ll happen in 40 hours and 52 minutes,” he explained without preamble.

“Wait! John can tell the future?! TELL MY FUTURE JOHN!” Sally said, grabbing John by the shoulders and shaking him.

“Cut it out sally!” Ex exclaimed while giving the draconid a swat on the arm.

“Ow,” John complained as Sally stopped.

Loren shook her head at the foolishness. “John is a Basajuan, they’re able to predict natural disasters, as you’ve just seen. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll spread the word a storm is coming.”

John watched as Loren shuffled off towards the produce stalls, no doubt in his mind that the news would be all over town by the end of the day.

“So what was that about?” Ex asked.

“John saw the future! DUH!” Sally exclaimed.

“It’s one of my racial traits… I think he called it… uh, minor prognostication in relation to natural disasters?”

“So it lets you know when natural disasters are going to happen? That’s pretty handy.”

“Super awesome you mean!” Sally grinned widely, then her grin faltered. “Wait, what does that mean for players?”

“Huh?” John asked eloquently.

“Well if storms happen out here regularly then the locals probably have storm cellars or something right? Well, where are the players all going to stay? Should we just not log in?” Sally looked between John and Ex, her reptilian face somehow conveying a worried expression.

“Uh… that’s actually a really good question,” Ex responded after a moment.

“Ah crap, I’m going to lose at least half my corn,” John muttered. “As for what to do, you’re welcome to come wait out the storm on my farm, I just built a cellar that could double as a shelter I guess… actually how deep do storm cellars need to be?” John quickly pulled open google. “12 feet? Really? Alright then, apparently I need to redo my storage area.”

“I think I’ll probably just wait out the storm,” Ex admitted.

“You’re no fun Ex! We could sit underground, listen to the thunder, and play card games!” she said exuberantly, then she paused and the smile fell from her face. “Neither of you have cards, do you.”

Both John and Excelsior shook their heads.

“Alright, we won’t play cards. I suppose I could catch up on some school work.” Sally gave them both a mournful expression.

“You should probably do that,” Ex said while John nodded his agreement.

“I take it back, you’re both no fun,” Sally pouted.

“Alright, well, I need to go save as much of my corn as I can, and tomorrow I need to dig a new shelter,” John said with a grimace. “Wish me luck.”

“Luck,” Ex said.

“Good Luck!” Echoed Sally.

John waved to both of them and then headed back toward his farm. All together he’d lost about two and a half hours, and he was determined to get another eighth of his corn done before he called it quits for he night. So, upon his return, he got right back to work, stripping ears off of stalks. By the time it was too dark to see he’d managed to fill 11 and a half inventory spaces.