Just less than a week ago she killed a man. Now it's finally time for her first real fight.

One message continues to echo in Ava's mind:

If she believes this, then her suspicion that the journey up until leaving the tutorial had been preordained and guided safely on rails seems to be confirmed. But now what? The warning indicates that death is suddenly possible – implying that before it was not. The fights against the Scum in Canon City and the Custodians in Sara's nursery and even all the way back to the companions' escape from Human Resources – were they all simply scripted encounters? Zero-risk propositions?

It makes a sad sort of sense. Should she really have been able to defeat Dr. Sara's security-bots all by herself? And that ridiculous killing machine—the dragon—shouldn't they all have died alongside Uma?

The dwarf-mechs in Cripple Creek's Iron Mine crack their chrome knuckles and hoist their miniature pick-axes, growling, their deep bass voices still in strangely perfect harmony as if this is merely an encore after their earlier song. They're still sort of silly – but evidently they're more deadly than Dr. Sara's dragon was. And that answers half the question: the danger is now real.

But the matter of the rails remains.

Ava readies herself for combat. But seeing these machine-built dwarves in clockwork lockstep—programmed to kill—she struggles to concentrate:

Do I have a choice? she wonders, am I making choices? And if so, are they meaningful – do they impact the world around me in any way?

Wait. Maybe those aren't the right questions.

Maybe it's more like: are my choices my own?

Or is everything—including me—being driven by some unseen hand?

This combat feels different. Less structured and yet somehow bound by more rules than earlier encounters. Ava wipes her brow and finds it clammy from sweat. It sure feels like the guardrails have come all the way off. The combatants assume their fighting stances and in the brief calm before the action explodes Ava suddenly intuits how it is all organized.

For a fraction of a second she sees flashes of the character sheets belonging to everyone involved – even the mecha-dwarves. Specifically, it is as if an invisible arbitrator is comparing certain attributes between the rival sides. And all at once she realizes what the order of attack will be and how it has been determined:

She understands that this is the order in which each of their actions will trigger—even if some appear to occur simultaneously—and that at the completion of those actions a round will have passed. Somehow she is aware that the ties have been broken by a simple coin-toss executed in some ethereal digital dimension parallel to the one she inhabits.

It's as though she's caught a glimpse behind the curtain – behind the Dungeon Master's screen. And despite the information being absurd, she is able to instantly and seamlessly incorporate it into her knowledge of the world. This is just how the universe operates now. It's simple physics: gravity brings me back to Earth when I jump – and the order of combat will be determined by each combatant's Quickness.

Javors acts first, and simply by concentrating on the combat Ava is able to view what actions he will take in the moment before they execute:

And then she watches it play out:

Javors slides the [Omega Key] from its scabbard. His voice echoes in the tunnel, belting out a rousing rondo – his [Fight Song]:

>>>>YOUR muscles pulse with violent energy(+1 Strength, Finesse, and Hardiness).

Finally, the ratman skitters forward and performs a basic stabbing attack. Quicker than the blink of an eye a series of calculations are performed, and again if Ava simply focuses she can peer at the math behind the mayhem. To determine if the blow has landed, it comes down to a comparison between Javors' Finesse(6(+1)) and the Dwarf's Quickness(4). Then a degree of randomness enters the equation. A number is generated for each combatant, between 1 and 100:

Ava extrapolates that because Javors Finesse is three greater than the Dwarf's Quickness, the ratman has received a bonus of +30 which enabled him to land the blow. If his Finesse was but one point lower—if it hadn't been buffed by the effect of his [Fight Song]—she concludes that the attack would have missed. And suddenly, another calculation commences:

Ava isn't able to determine exactly how strong the dwarf's armor is, but it is evidently too sturdy to be damaged by Javors' stiletto. Still, yet another calculation emerges:

And Ava somehow becomes aware of the rule governing crits: after an attack is determined to have hit, a critical strike will be inflicted when the attacker's offensive value exceeds the defender's Hardiness by 3 or more.

Even with the bonus awarded by his [Fight Song], Javor's offensive score is still only one point greater than the dwarf's Hardiness so no critical strike will occur. She wonders, if the outcome had been a crit instead – might it have damaged or even penetrated the dwarf's armor? In the moment it is impossible to know for sure.

Ultimately after all that the result is that Javors deftly stabs the dwarf square in the ribs, the metal-on-metal strike casting off a tiny spark, but no damage is done – and the ratman's turn is ended.

Darby acts next. Ava again is able to view what actions he will perform in the moment before they execute. He retrieves his trusty [Blowtorch] from his pocket and lights it. Then he scrambles for cover behind the dwarves' cart containing the mobile furnace. And finally he enters a state which Ava realizes she is also capable of assuming:

Darby crouches behind the mining cart, taking cover with his [Blowtorch] held at the ready. And his turn also concludes.

Next is Uri, and Ava can hardly manage to maintain her concentration thoroughly enough to discern what his actions will be – she's so anxious knowing she will act next. She's seen Javors and Darby perform abilities like diners ordering a la carte but she's not sure how it will work once it's her turn. Will she make selections from a menu?

Before she can ponder any further she witnesses what Uri will do next:

He rushes forward to join the fight against the dwarf with which Javors is already engaged and unfurls one of his balletic, twirling kicks:

The math is exhaustive but Ava is able to boil it down to the facts: Uri's base melee damage is Light, but with the Strength bonus granted by Javors' [Fight Song] he advances to the next rank of damage, which is Minor. But his [Roundhouse Kick] is a special ability which inflicts twice the hurt, therefore doing Moderate damage.

The dwarf's [Natural Armor] is capable of completely mitigating all ranks of damage up to and including Moderate, but protecting against such an attack causes it to take damage, thereby reducing its effectiveness going forward. Suddenly, Dwarf.3 has become more vulnerable. And without missing a beat, Uri unleashes a basic melee attack—a punch—following up after his kick:

Detailed information washes over Ava and she is somehow absorbing all of it. She becomes aware that Uri's melee attacks are based on his Strength attribute, and without the extra point from Javors' song his punch would inflict only Light damage. However with the [Fight Song] buffing him, Uri is able to punch at a rank higher—causing Minor damage—just enough to again damage Dwarf.3's armor since it was already diminished by the kick.

The order of Uri's attacks has proved vital. If he had thrown the punch first, it would have simply glanced off the dwarf-mech. Instead, it has caused further damage to the enemy's armor.

What this math looks like in action is Uri's foot striking the dwarf solidly in the gut, denting it, and then a quick follow-up punch to the chest which crumples the impact spot like a tin can, opening up a small schism which oozes black lubricant rather than blood. Then Uri concludes his turn by activating [Vigilance], taking a defensive fighting stance, ready to counter what attacks may come.

Suddenly Ava's limbs tingle. It has become her turn. She has only 5 action points – better use them wisely. In her mind a timer has begun to count down from thirty. When it reaches zero she knows she will be forced to act or lose her turn.

Ava's mind races. What are her options? She could likely end the fight in one fell swoop by activating [Overload] – but she doesn't know if there will be more battles—perhaps involving even greater threats—in the near future.

After seeing how an actual combat functions she realizes how important her action points are and what a disadvantage it could be to be suffering from Drained. She decides that at least for now she'll keep [Overload] on standby.

She is aware that her standard melee attacks are what the man behind the curtain deems Harmless. She's just not capable of harming anyone with a punch—on an ordinary day—but Javors' song increasing her Strength by 1 bumps her up to Light damage. And if she executes a [Roundhouse Kick] she'll double that, with a hit inflicting a Minor Injury.

Her target is obvious. Dwarf.3's armor has already been damaged twice by Uri's combo – meaning Ava's attacks might actually have an effect.

That settles it. The timer in her head has reached twelve. She does not select her actions from a menu nor does she need to program them in any way. Instead, she simply acts and:

She rushes into the fray and launches into the roundhouse, floating on invisible wires like a character in a high-budget action movie:

This isn't her first time landing a roundhouse but it is certainly the most satisfying yet. She realizes that she has rolled extremely well to overcome her opponent's bonus to dodge and something about that gratifies her beyond the mere outcome of the action. Good luck is addictive.

Her foot crushes into the gut of the dwarf-mech, completely nullifying the last remnants of his armored carapace, and even causing the first actual damage of the fight.

Ava's face flushes red – it's such a rush. She's performing without a net now, and this small victory feels like winning the entire war. Brimming with confidence she finishes her turn by throwing a follow-up punch:

Grinning, she flicks out her fist but the dwarf leans back just enough to be out of range – and Ava punches nothing but empty air. Her face flushes a little redder – this time from embarrassment.

For a moment she is ashamed at having become overconfident in the aftermath of landing her first real roundhouse—but there is only that single moment for her to indulge that shame—because in the next instant she realizes it has become the dwarf trio's turn to attack.