“Good morning, sunshine” said a cheery male voice. Ryan’s head swiveled to his right - he knew that voice. It belonged to Michael Mullins, a friend of his father’s whom he’d played tabletop with a number of times. Michael had been the cool nerd who’d both gotten him into RPGs after his accident and jerry-rigged some gaming equipment so he could play. Ryan remembered him as the soft, semi-fluffy enthusiastic nerd type. The man sitting before him now though was more on the muscled side. And he seemed… rough.

Michael was wearing an over-the-shoulder pistol harness over what looked like an orderly’s outfit, the harness itself sporting a small black pistol. His friend was also wearing a sword belt, complete with an actual sword. More surprising than that however, was the fact that there were three of him!

One michael stood further down the hall, a bow in hand and a quiver on his back. Another was approaching from the other end, wearing a police-issue vest and jeans. A canister of mace was looped into that one’s belt. Both had started walking over as soon as the first Michael had spoken up.

Ryan’s eyes went wide. “Michael! You… You evolved, too?” The newly awakened editor’s mind raced. “Is that your superpower? Clones?”

Then, without even pausing to give Michael a chance to answer, he realized there was an easier way to answer his question. With a satisfied mental call of ‘For PONY!” he accessed his power and wondered what it would cost to make Michael stronger.

Name: Michael Mullins

Age: 30

Race: Human (Super)

Attributes:

Strength: 10

Dexterity: 11

Constitution: 12

Intelligence: 18

Wisdom: 17

Charisma: 13

Superpower(s):

Perfect Duplication: Grants the capability to make a number of perfect duplicates of oneself, up to total energy capacity. Duplicates can be reabsorbed at any time, along with their memories, for a percentage return on energy spent. Damage taken by a duplicate reduces energy returned when absorbed by the primary. Duplicates too far from the primary will permanently decrease energy capacity until reabsorbed. Each active duplicate currently costs 76 points of energy (total of all attributes).

Energy capacity: 43 of 803 points.

Status:

Physical status: Tired.

Mental status: Alert.

Energy required to permanently increase Michael Mullins’ strength from 11 to 12: 120 points. Would you like to increase his strength? Yes, or no?

Holy hell! That power was awesome! Perfect clones of yourself? Seriously? Michael’s power was a dream come true for comic book fans. It also looked like upgrading someone else’s stats didn’t cost any more points than it did to upgrade his own. Which made sense. Human muscle was still just muscle, no matter whose body it was in.

As for Michael’s power… the costs were high but -- wait. How on God’s green earth did he get an energy capacity over sixteen times what Ryan’s was? Hax! Screamed the voice inside his head, railing at the injustice. I call hax!

“Yeah, buddy. Everyone did. Everyone.” Michael put extra emphasis on that last word, layering it with meaning.

Ryan stood there. Momentarily dumbfounded at the enormity of what he’d just been told. If everyone had evolved like he had… then that meant they’d all gotten super powers…

That… did not bode well for the rest of the world, Nor the fates of the people living on it.

Every story or paperback fiction Ryan had ever read exploring any kind of world-wide power-granting event foretold either complete utopia - which was, let’s face it, why those works were probably labelled ‘fiction’ in the first place - or… Ryan felt an involuntary shudder run through him.

Those kinds of stories generally had a gap of some period they called ‘the hundred year war’ or some other mitigating nonsense between the event itself and when the book started. Authors did it for a very good reason, too. Namely that world-wide revolutions weren’t exactly peaceful. They were pure chaos. And chaos made for bleak reading.

Ryan’s mind quickly followed that line of thought as Michael watched him take it in.

This would change everything. Anyone with a vendetta and a superpower was a force to be reckoned with now. Or at least one that couldn’t be readily ignored. One on the same scale as the industrial revolution wrapped up with the invention of guns - only now you didn’t have to buy one.

It was a sobering thought. There were a lot of shitty people out there. Media stations worldwide loved to remind the public of that fact. Now those same people, for the low cost of free, would be...

Super-shitty. Great. The thought, amusingly childish as it was, did little to ease his mood. Before Ryan could get lost any further down that path however, Michael cut him off.

“We have a lot to talk about.” Michael said simply. He stretched out a bit, then stood up from the plastic chair propped against the wall he’d been sitting in.

“But first, let’s get you to safety.” A quick gesture from the first mike and the other-mike, the one with the bow, (Bow-mike?) walked over to the door of a nearby room and opened it. He then gestured for Ryan to go in first. Ryan did as he was bid, a bit unnerved at how casually Michael had suggested they weren’t safe here - in a hospital of all places. Still, he didn’t question it.

Inside the room were stacks on stacks of canned goods and other assorted non-perishables all piled atop one another in neat rows along the rear wall. The can-pile rose near to the ceiling.

Two more other-Michaels and a - Ryan blinked in surprise. The third person was plainly a woman, but she was covered from head to toe in orange-and-white fur. She looked, well, rather like a fox. A fox-human hybrid, maybe. And she was cute as a button, despite her tense expression upon seeing an unfamiliar face.

Ryan caught himself staring a moment later. In his defense-- well, no, he didn’t really have one. Best to just move along like it hadn’t happened. He put on as best a smile as he could manage and greeted her warmly. A gaunt, skeletor-look-alike in a hospital gown he might very well be - but his father had taught him some manners.

“Hello! Nice to meet you. My name’s Ryan, I’m a friend of Michael’s. And you are…?” he asked in his best I’m-really-not-an-evil-skeleton voice. The fox-woman relaxed visibly and he noticed sharp claws at the end of each of her fingers retract when she did. Ryan made a mental note to stay on this woman’s good side if possible. Getting scratched by regular nails was bad enough.

“Oh, um… My name is Sherry!” she announced brightly before coming over and embracing Ryan tightly before he could respond. “I’m a… friend of his as well.” Sherry added with a coy smile and a wink back at Michael. The man returned it with an answering grin that wasn’t coy in the slightest.

“What can you do?” Sherry asked, turning back to him. Ryan was still reeling a bit from the sudden hug when she did. Sherry had smelled heavily of blackberries and light sweat, the scent was… a lot for his recently-reawakened libido. Not to mention for a ‘fox’ she certainly squeezed as tightly as a bear.

“I’m an editor.” Ryan responded, mentally pushing his hormones back down where they belonged. “My power lets me change people.” Before he could elaborate any further, one of the Michaels in the room spoke up.

“Sorry for the sweaty state of… well, all of us. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up. Much has happened and, well, you’ve been out for about five weeks.” Michael said bluntly and without preamble. Both versions of him that had been in this room when Ryan entered, and Sherry, were wearing exercise outfits. The pair of Michaels were sweating and breathing heavily as if fatigued. Sherry, notably, was not.

At a nod and look from the sweatier of the pair, the others walked over and… stepped inside him. Like they were ducking through a small door, only instead of passing through they just… vanished. Ryan’s eyebrows jumped almost into his hair. His friend’s character sheet had mentioned Michael could reabsorb his duplicates but… he’d expected some kind of flash of light or… something. Instead, all but one of the clones walked into Michael’s body and vanished without any aplomb at all. Their clothes and anything else they’d been carrying fell to the ground. The last one, which he’d decided to refer to as ‘bow-mike’, took up a position at the door.

Perfect duplication indeed. “Do you get all the energy back when you do that?” Ryan asked suddenly, unable to hide his curiosity. He checked Michael’s character sheet without giving the man a chance to respond.

“It’s complicated, but no-” Michael began, then Ryan interrupted. “You did! Well, mostly… 260 of 803...” Ryan said with surprise, his voice speculative. “Do your duplicates use energy just being… ‘out’?”

“Wait, what?” Michael asked with one eyebrow raised, clearly taken aback. He held up a hand to stave off Ryan’s line of questioning. “First off, 260 of 803 is not most. Second, how did you…?”

“My power.” Ryan responded helpfully. He looked over at Sherry. The fox-woman looked as surprised as Michael, so he kept going. “I can edit things. It lets me see information about what, or who, I’m trying to change.” Seeing realization dawn on Michael’s face, it was Ryan’s turn to hold up his hands. “I didn’t edit you or anything, I just looked at your info.”

Michael leaned back in his chair, his brow furled in concentration. “Hu-uh. So, you can just change whatever you--” Michael stopped mid-sentence. Then he stood up and reached for one of the boxes stacked along the wall. “Shit, sorry. You must be starving. You’re all skin and bone. Here, eat first then we’ll talk.” He passed Ryan one of the protein bars from the box and sat back down.

Ryan accepted it gratefully and tried to tear into the packaging. His atrophied muscles strained and despite being able to move now his hands kept slipping off the plastic cover in a most frustrating fashion. Sherry watched him struggle for a second then reached over and tapped a claw down on one end. The package opened easily once he had something to pull against. Ryan gave her an embarrassed smile, mouthed a thank-you, then chowed down. He was hungrier than he’d thought, apparently.

“Anyway, edit like… what? Like a lead to gold type thing?” Michael asked with genuine curiosity in his voice. The question was an obvious follow-up given what Ryan had told him, but Ryan hadn’t gotten around to that possibility just yet. His power did say ‘edit anything’ after all…

The editor took another bite and chewed slowly. Might as well check. If it worked then he had a surefire way to Scrooge McDuck his way to pools filled with gold. Pools he would definitely not be diving in because he much preferred an unbroken neck. Ryan mentally called out to his power and gave it a shot.

Error. No lead present to transmute into gold. Transmutation from lead into gold costs 100 energy per 1,000 grams of lead.

That… was expensive. Still, it wasn’t too outrageous. 1,000 grams couldn’t be that hard to get a hold of, he supposed. If gold was still worth anything, that is. Then again, gold had been valuable as long as humans had been around to say “ooh, shiny!” when they saw it so… it was probably a safe bet that the substance had held its value.

Ryan refocused on the conversation. He could worry about building his completely impractical swimming pool later.

"So far… yes, and no. If I have the energy, yes. But I don't have enough to turn lead into gold. Not much more than about five hundred grams, anyway." Ryan supplied as he finished the protein bar and looked over at the stack Michael had next to him.

Michael handed Sherry another bar. She opened it in one smooth motion by sliding a claw along the wrapper’s edge, then slid it over to Ryan as Michael continued. “So could you… turn yourself into superman or something?”

In spite of himself, and despite the dry protein bar bits in his mouth, Ryan laughed. “No, I uh… I don’t think so. It cost me 30 energy just to up my strength to 3, and my max is only 50.”

"Interesting…” Michael glanced at Sherry, then looked back over to Ryan. “You said you could see my information, so is my max 50 as well?"

Ryan shook his head, still impressed with the numbers on the character sheet of the man in front of him. "Nope. Your max is that number I mentioned earlier. 803"

Michael, evidently, had not been tracking that. Confusion was evident on his face. "What the-- wait. You meant my power capacity? Not physical strength?

Ryan nodded, though he was starting to wonder how Michael didn't already know this. Was it uncommon to be able to see your energy? Was the ability to see one’s energy limited to just his power? And what happened when you ran out of energy anyway?

Ryan had no answers to any of that, so he crumpled up the second protein bar instead while he mulled over his response. It felt good getting some food in him. His stomach had felt like a black hole once he started eating. He still felt weak after the food, but no longer to the point he’d fall over.

"You use energy to make duplicates of yourself, right? The clones?" Michael nodded, so Ryan continued. "The cost for each one, according to your power, is directly related to how strong you are." Ryan did some quick math in his head. "You can probably make, what, 10 clones at once?"

Michael's response surprised him. "Eleven, actually. I've been training my body nonstop pretty much with my cutie Sherry here." Sherry smiled at that and draped her arms over him from behind his chair. The fox-woman buried her face in his hair and inhaled deeply. Her eyes, once she emerged, seemed to have grown a bit wilder than before.

Michael continued on, apparently at ease with the display. "It's helped a lot, and she is pretty amazing herself." He reached up a hand and tousled Sherry's hair, which she eagerly leaned into. "So, what you're saying is, your body needs to get stronger?"

Ryan watched the simple display of love in front of him with just a small pang of discomfort. He was happy for his friend, but… well, let's just say dates are hard to get when you can't actually get to them. This was no time for self pity however, so he dismissed the feeling.

Michael's response that he could make eleven clones didn't make sense. His power said it cost him 76 points per clone. 10 clones meant 760 points. At a max capacity of 803, that left him with 43 points. Unless you could go negative on energy, which Ryan doubted, there just wasn’t enough for another.

It was Ryan's turn to be confused. "I… guess? Eleven can't be right. You don't have enough points. Unless…" Ryan let that trail off for a second, staring off into the wall for a second. There was only one possible answer, but he stated it anyway. "Unless you've figured out how to get energy back."

Michael's grin was the kind reserved only for those about to drop a well-known knowledge bomb on a friend currently missing the obvious. "Food." he said slowly, spreading his hands and fingers out in a would-be mystical fashion to draw out the moment. "Powers use food as energy. I eat before and after making my clones. Which is also why I've been trying to get you to eat."

Ryan's eyes widened. Could it be that simple? Seriously? He pulled up his character sheet an-- yep. 50 of 50 points. The fledgling editor put his face in his hands and laughed helplessly at himself. He'd made this whole thing out to be way more complex than it was, apparently.

Ever since he'd discovered his power had an energy cost, he had been assuming it was some hard-to-acquire substance. Like mana always was in videogames. Something he needed a blue potion for, or to complete some intricate series of steps to acquire. Maybe spend some time with a couple of glass beakers and a benson burner. It had never occurred to him that the answer would be as simple as just... eating.

The more he thought about it though, the more it made sense. Humans had been chowing down on plants, animals, and really anything that stood still long enough to be grabbed to use as a source of energy since history began. All types of matter. Regardless of whether it was known to be edible or not. If it theoretically could be it got shoveled unceremoniously down our collective gob just like the rest.

Hell, if it was calorie based then even twinkies would count. And Ryan had it on the good authority of the rugged Tallahassee that even if the world devolved into a zombie apocalypse those things would never decompose. He just hoped that wasn't what the world he had woken up into. Ever since the accident, he’d sucked at cardio.

At least, for now. And since he now knew how to get energy back…

Would you like to permanently increase your energy capacity to 51 points? Cost: 50 points. Yes, or no?

Ryan selected yes, then tensed. Last time, making a change had hurt a bit. Michael and Sherry gave him a curious look... but nothing happened. A few heartbeats later, he relaxed. Increasing his energy cost appeared to be more of an internal thing. Which means no pain, huh? Nice. Aside from a strange feeling in a corner of his mind that he couldn’t quite identify, and the gnawing hunger growing in his stomach, Ryan felt no different from before.

After checking his character sheet to confirm the upgrade took, he saw that both Michaels and Sherry were watching him with questioning concern in their eyes.

"Sorry. I just… I can't believe it's that simple." He said with a rueful smile on his face. "I thought 'energy' meant some special kind of energy. Something you'd have to work for." He picked up the now-empty wrapper and chuckled a bit as he placed it next to the other bit of crinkled plastic. "Not something you could just eat."

“Yeah, when I first used this…” Michael gestured at bow-michael. “I used it till I passed out, then woke up starving. So… two plus two.” He shrugged. “Maybe since your limit is 50 right now it wasn’t as noticeable when you used it. For me it gets more obvious every time I do, though it may be different for some. Like, if a lightning guy got power from an outlet or something.”

Ryan looked at the wrappings left on the table. The protein bars were the "minty muscle minefield" variety of Dr. Flex's Full-Size Flatties. A newish brand that, if memory serves, was pretty popular. Quadriplegics didn't eat many protein bars, but he had to admit the name alone would've sold him even if they didn’t taste so good. He wasn't sure how much each restored, but just two of the delicious things had been enough to bring him back to full. Now it was time for some science.

Ryan downed another bar and learned that the wonderful little minty bars apparently restored at least as much energy as he had. Just one was enough to bring him back to full. Ryan shared that discovery with Michael, who promptly plopped an entire box of them in front of the editor. Sherry got to work opening them. Michael then began sharing what had been going on while Ryan had been cocooned. As he spoke, Ryan made sure to upgrade his capacity each time he finished a bar.

Michael had been amongst the first to ‘wake up’ in town. He’d awoken inside his car and watched panic begin to spread on the streets as people discovered they could throw flames, cars, or other people. Unwilling to take his chances on the ensuing chaos, he’d gone home to prepare. There, he’d discovered his own power when trying to do the million and one things needed to get ready for an apocalyptic scenario. Clones of him had just… shot out in every direction, each taking a task - before stopping and turning around to stare at all the others.

The rest of that first day had been spent on experimentation. Realizing that apartment walls weren’t exactly bunker-quality, Michael had left that night to the hospital to check on Ryan’s father. He’d run into Sherry on the way and the pair had decided to stick together for safety. Sherry ran her fingers gently through Michael’s hair at that point and there was obviously more to the tale - but Ryan was more interested in what had happened to his dad.

“Did you find him?” Ryan interjected when the topic came up. Michael winced as if he’d expected that question, then his expression looked sorrowful.

“Unfortunately… no. Nobody has. I stayed here to keep watch over you once I saw you were still in your room. One of the things we kinda promised your dad, in case anything happened to him.”

Michael exhaled slowly and then spread his hands. “There’s another reason I’ve been guarding you, too.”

His friend’s eyes grew serious. The mostly jovial atmosphere fled the room. “You’re the last person I know of to wake. The longer people have been out, the more powerful they’ve been when they emerged. One of those, a guy named Marcus, has taken over our town. Made himself mayor, but didn’t exactly take a vote. I’ve been working with the police every day I can to get some kind of intelligence on the guy but… I can’t get into his inner circle.” Michael looked frustrated, as if he’d let Ryan down somehow.

“Why not? Is he paranoid or something?” Ryan asked as he accepted another bar from Sherry.

“People with duplication powers aren’t exactly rare. To get in, I’d have to bring in the real me, not a dupe. I can’t risk that - especially not if one of them has a mental or mind control type power.” Michael responded as Sherry began to idly scratch his back.

Ryan’s face took on a look of horror. “Mind control? Is that a real power?” Forget super strength, if someone can just take over other’s minds then… That’s when the real despots will show up.

Michael cut off that line of thought quickly. “Not that I’ve heard of. Not yet, anyway. But I couldn’t take that risk. It’s a thing in comics, which lines up with what everyone else seems to have, so…” He shrugged. “Why risk it?”

Avoiding unnecessary risk when it might lead to possible enslavement made perfect sense to Ryan. Something else Michael had said tugged at him though. “I’m the last person to wake?” he asked.

“That I know of, yeah.” Michael said simply.

Ryan was about to ask another question when two men opened the door and entered. One wore a policeman’s uniform that was torn in several places and covered in stains. His face and arms were covered in a mix of dirt and blood, though none of it appeared to be his own as the man didn’t have a single scratch on him. It took Ryan a moment to realize that he knew this dirty fellow. It was Matthew Smith, the cop who lived down the street from them and came over for tabletop.

The other man wore a fur-covered green suit, complete with red tie. A unique outfit that few could pull off, and one Ryan recognized him immediately - it was Kurt! Kurt was another friend of the family, and the group dungeon master. The fancy-yet-fuzzy man worked at the zoo and his house had been full of semi-exotic fluffy things as far back as Ryan could remember.

“Hey Mike.” Matthew mumbled as he walked in, heading directly for the wall of snacks. He made it about two steps before realizing that Ryan was there. “Oh, shit!” A grin spread wide across the officer’s face. “Well, at least there’s some good news today! How are you feeling? You look like death!”

Ryan chuckled. “I may look it, but I can move around now, so… feeling better than ever I suppose. What about you? You look normal enough, I’m guessing your superpower wasn’t ‘bathing’.”

Officer Smith laughed and popped the lid on a can of soup with a finger. “No, no it wasn’t. I’m… just resilient, I guess. Haven’t been hurt by anything in a while.” With that casual revelation, he leaned back and began to drain the soup straight from the can into his gullet.

Ryan’s curiosity got the best of him immediately. He activated his power with the passphrase and wondered what it would take to grant his old neighbor greater strength.

Name: Matthew Smith

Age: 34

Race: Human (Super)

Attributes:

Strength: 14

Dexterity: 13

Constitution: 12

Intelligence: 13

Wisdom: 15

Charisma: 19

Superpower(s):

Physical Invulnerability: Grants complete invulnerability to physical harm. Damage that would be taken is taken instead from energy capacity reserves. Invulnerability ends when energy runs out. Only damage below that of energy capacity can be prevented.

Energy capacity: 447 of 1,085 points.

Status:

Physical status: Exhausted.

Mental status: Emotionally drained.

Energy required to permanently increase Matthew Smith’s strength from 14 to 15: 150 points. Would you like to increase his strength? Yes, or no?

Ryan selected ‘no’, then he looked appraisingly at the cop. “Physical Invulnerability? That’s a hell of a power. Does it work on bullets?”

“Huh?” Officer Smith lowered the soup can, a reddish outline of his meal appearing around his face where the can had been. “I don’t think I’ve been shot. Was hit by a car though. Some douche threw it at me. Knocked me down, buuut that’s about it.” He said with an unconcerned shrug, then went back to his soup. Ryan’s eyes widened at the tale, but the others didn’t bat an eye.

“So you’re a super now too, then?” Ryan asked, turning towards Kurt. Michael had said ‘everyone’, but… talking about powers was fun. Like scrolling through your roster in an RPG and reading up on all your team’s new spells. Helped distract from the whole wake-up-in-a-possible-dystopia thing. For the moment, anyway.

“Yes.” Kurt said without embellishment, adjusting his glasses as he leaned against the wall. Ryan waited, but the man did not elaborate. Suit yourself. He thought, amused. Man of few words, Kurt. Heh. Curt Kurt. Ryan’s mental grin at his own brilliant wordplay nearly reached his face as he brought up his power once more.

Name: Kurt Tanner Rodney

Age: 34

Race: Human (Super)

Attributes:

Strength: 12

Dexterity: 13

Constitution: 11

Intelligence: 18

Wisdom: 19

Charisma: 14

Superpower(s):

Hybrid Animal Melding: Grants the capability to meld physically and mentally with animals. Once melded, both target animal and self will share a single body and the better of each other’s traits. Increased bond with the target animal decreases melding energy cost.

Energy capacity: 759 of 810.

Status:

Physical status: Normal.

Mental status: Normal.

Energy required to permanently increase Kurt Rodney’s strength from 12 to 13: 130 points. Would you like to increase his strength? Yes, or no?

Sigh. Seemed like everyone, even Kurt, had much higher energy than Ryan did. It was enough to bring a small amount of irrational irritation to the editor’s mind. Irritation that might’ve stayed if Ryan wasn’t currently bumping his up with each new bar he stuffed down his gob.

Animal melding sounded cool, too. Sharing a body with an animal was a bit closer than Ryan would prefer to get to even domesticated ones, though the concept seemed to fit his zookeeper friend like a glove. He suspected sharing the body was the ‘hybrid’ part of it. This was also the second superpower he’d seen with what looked like a qualifier in front of it - like Michael’s ‘perfect’ duplication. Be interesting to see what other power variants are out there… Ryan mused.

“Hey, Kurt. What’s it like to meld with animals?” Ryan asked curiously. Kurt paused a moment, then looked over at Michael with a tilted head and a question in his eyes.

Michael shook his head once. “I didn’t tell him. It’s part of his power. He can see ours.”

Kurt brought his hand up to his mouth and ‘hmmm’d’ at that. “It’s a bit more than I expected. I can hear as a dog might - but Duke’s impulses carry over as well. An animal’s instincts can be… difficult to bear.”

Officer Smith snorted in his soup. “To bear. I see what you did there, Kurt. Next you’re going to say melding gives you paws.” The rest of the room chuckled as Kurt’s narrow mouth twitched into a wry smile.

After the moment had passed, Officer Smith checked his watch and put his empty can down on a stack of similarly scarfed cans of chicken noodle. “I know you called us for a check-in Michael, but before we settle in… There’s something you all should hear.” Smith pulled a radio out of his vest, flicked the volume, and set it on the table.

At first, all that came through was static. Then the static went cut out, replaced by the smooth voice of a cultured, middle-aged man. “Good day, my dear Arborville citizens. This is Marcus, your new Mayor and ever-humble servant. I would like to remind everyone that martial law, and the associated 7 pm curfew, are both still in full effect. Please take care to observe these measures as the punishments for failing to adhere to each remain quite… severe.”

Ryan looked around the room at that. Martial law? Curfew? … Punishments? He wanted to know more, but the faces in the room had grown grim and all eyes were fixed on the radio.

The voice on the radio continued, sounding almost cheery as it went. “The bounty for turning in a week 3 super, beastkin or otherwise, has been increased to seventy-five thousand dollars, housing of your choice, and a position on my own personal staff. The bounty for a week 4 super has also increased, to an even two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars, two houses, and a management role on my staff. That’s a quarter million in cash and at least double that in lodging for those of you who prefer it simply. Not to mention the perks of working for a generous personage such as myself.”

There was a pause, wherein Ryan couldn’t help but imagine Marcus had stopped to sip at a glass of some expensive red wine. The voice resumed shortly after.

“Also, do note that the punishment for not turning in either is summary execution on discovery… Though you may be forgiven if you are the one to turn them in or provide the information that leads to them being brought before me. Remember, our enemies are multiplying and these measures - while some may deem them harsh - are crucial to our continued survival.”

Ryan’s mouth went dry as the mayor continued his casually delivered speech. A quarter million dollar bounty for a week 4? Execution for hiding one? Michael said he’d been out for five weeks. How many people knew he’d been here? How many of them would keep his secret knowing this lunatic would kill them just for helping? How many would turn down the reward? Why did Marcus even want them? … Did he have mind control, like Michael feared? Did he---

Sherry’s hand on his arm jolted him. Her eyes were full of compassion and understanding of the fear written plainly on his face. “It’ll be okay.” she mouthed. The others nodded in unison, but the mayor wasn’t finished.

“Finally, I would like to offer some advice to a few of my misguided, though no doubt noble, citizens. It has come to my attention that some of you are hiding friends or family from me that could be key players in the upcoming conflicts. I have been lenient in allowing this - hoping you might come to your senses in due time - but circumstances have taken the possibility of such mercy from me. You have until noon tomorrow to report these individuals to either the police or myself. Tomorrow afternoon, if they have not been reported, the police will be forced to take what actions they deem necessary to ensure good order.”

There was a pause on the radio, then Marcus’ still-cheery voice came through once more. As if he were announcing who won last night’s game instead of threatening the citizenry with brutality should they fail to follow his edicts. “That is all. Please, enjoy the rest of your evening and don’t forget to sign up for the new Arborville militia--”

Smith reached over and clicked the volume to off before Marcus could continue. “This hit the airwaves a few hours ago. The message repeats every hour.” Smith’s eyes flicked to Ryan for a second, then went back to Michael. His next words were said in a grave voice, the seriousness only slightly marred by the falling soup he was currently wiping from his chin. The officer stood up as he spoke.

“We can’t wait any more. It’s time to move.”