The man (Paul, his name is Paul) smiled at her as he introduced himself, but instead of settling her nerves, it only made Heather feel more on-edge. Smiles were weapons, things she and Jamie often used against each other during their spars (death matches, don’t trivialize it). She recognized when Jamie’s smiles were friendly, but this man was an unknown. A threat.

His smile wavered as she kept staring at him, analyzing his form, his posture, his gear. Shaggy black hair, brown eyes, tall, looks like a twig. Weight slightly unbalanced, tends to lean to his right. A hammer slung through a loop in his belt, dangling awkwardly. Still seems unused to the weight. If she rushed him, kicked the right leg, slashing across his chest while he struggled to maintain his balance–

She blinked, forcing herself out of that headspace, taking a moment to observe the many things she’d missed. His tense posture, his open hands, the way his smile was twisting into a grimace as she kept staring at him, not saying a word. The words he’d said, anything I can say that convinces you not to kill me on sight.

Sighing, Heather rubbed her forehead, letting her tension dissipate. LIGHTING faded back beneath her skin, no longer running through her irises. She’d been away from other people for way too long.

“Sorry about that,” she apologized, shifting her gaze away from the ma– Paul. He let out a breath when she looked away, his posture loosening. “It’s… been a while since I’ve talked to anyone other than her.”

She jabbed her thumb at Jamie’s slowly healing form, and Paul hummed in thought, starting to frown. There was intelligence in the way his eyes observed their surroundings, picking out small, minute details, and Heather revised her earlier assessment of him. He might be dangerous in the right circumstances, not an easy target like she’d first believed.

“S’alright, not too big a deal. It was just a bit unnerving is all,” he said, his voice pitched higher than usual for a man. Heather raised an eyebrow at him, but she let it go. He wasn’t exactly wrong—she’d meant to unnerve him. “By the way, I never got your name.”

Tapping her fingers on her thigh as her left arm reformed, she decided that there was no use in keeping it a secret. “Heather.” She pointed towards her chest with her thumb, then shifted it to point at Jamie again. “Jamie.”

“Cool, cool…” Paul trailed off, running a hand through his hair. Must be a nervous habit. “Um…”

Letting out a sigh, Heather decided to bail him out. “Just wait for Jay to wake up and then we’ll talk.” He nodded, seeming relieved, and Heather resigned herself to putting up with him for a while.

Luckily, he was respectful of her words, at least. He didn’t say a thing while they waited, instead slowly moving about the room, lifting things that he found marginally interesting, humming as he went. Heather had to stifle a laugh when he stumbled upon their pile of cleaning rags, his face scrunched up in confusion as he lifted one and sniffed it.

A groan came from her left, and she shifted slightly, watching Jamie as she rubbed her face with her knuckles. “Urg, that smarts.”

Heather chuckled, and one of Jamie’s eyes snapped open, pinning her with a glare. “Can’t blame me for taking advantage of you like that,” Heather replied, letting the corners of her mouth twitch upwards. “Personally, I feel it was the gloating. Ya got too full of it, so I just… cut down your pride a little.”

“Hardy har har, you’re hilarious,” Jamie grumbled, sitting up with a wince. “At least this one was quick. Wasn’t a knife through the chest, for once.”

Heather opened her mouth to spit back a retort, probably a dig at Jamie’s ego again, but someone cleared their throat, making her pause. Her cheeks flushed once she remembered that they had company.

“Not to butt in or anything… but you did say we’d talk once she’s awake, and she looks very much awake to me,” Paul said, smirking. Heather shot him a glare while Jamie tensed up for a moment before relaxing.

“…That you, Paul?” Jamie asked quietly, and Paul twitched, his eyes widening.

“Jamie? As in, that Jamie?!” Jamie nodded at him, and Heather watched as his body language relaxed completely. His smile seemed more natural now, no longer the fake one he was wearing earlier when he’d first introduced himself.

“Thank God! I haven’t heard from you in… huh, over two years now. How’ve ya been?” he asked, grinning.

“Bit busy trying to keep myself afloat, but it could be worse. Surprised to see you here, though. Thought the BEARDED BOOTS were keeping ya busy.”

Paul noticeably flinched at that, and Heather’s eyes narrowed. He obviously noticed her suspicion by the way he’d started fidgeting, but he made sure to avoid her gaze.

“…Paul?” Jamie questioned, her voice quivering slightly. He sighed, running a palm down his face.

“It’s all over,” he whispered. “We got annihilated by a newer guild. It was a massacre. FOUNDATION and STEEL HEARTS are the only ones left standing.”

Jamie’s breath hitched, and Heather was shocked to see how sad she looked. It’d been a while since Jamie had looked like that. Usually, she was either smiling, frowning, somewhere in between, or downright creepy.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice soft. Then her body twitched, and the smell of dew and rotting corpses assailed Heather’s nostrils.

"Ah~." She licked her lips, letting out a low groan. “Wish I could’ve been there... would’ve been great to see all those wonderful–”

Jamie’s hand snapped up and slammed her jaw shut, even as her eyes continued to be filled with maniacal glee and malice. Some blood leaked out from between her teeth, having bit her tongue in her haste to shut herself up.

“…What?” Paul asked, his eyes blown wide. Jamie was busy doing some breathing exercises to calm herself down, so Heather took the lead for the moment.

“We’re… working on that one. It’s a bit touch and go, mostly. She didn’t mean it if that’s what you’re worried about.” Paul slowly nodded, his eyes darting rapidly between her and Jamie. Some of the tension in his posture had returned.

“Right… sure. I’ll let that go.” He hesitated, mulling something over. It didn’t take him long to reach a decision, though, and it was obvious what he’d been debating once he opened his mouth again. “So why are you guys here? Jamie mentioned playing with a friend when she deleted her avatar, but I can’t imagine why you’d stay here of all places.”

Heather was still trying to decide how she wanted to respond when Jamie did it for her.

“Limited options, mostly,” she said, waving her hand a little, grimacing as more blood trickled between her lips. “Didn’t have any other choice.”

Paul’s brow furrowed, and Jamie glanced back at Heather, shrugging. Heather shrugged back. She’d defer to Jamie’s judgement on this one.

“Here, it’ll probably be easier if I just show ya,” Jamie continued, moving over to stand next to Paul. Heather joined them, and she smirked internally as the tension in Paul’s form increased with her approach. She didn’t trust him, and she was glad he understood that.

It took a few minutes to pull up the news article, now buried behind hundreds of others. It’d been two years, after all, so their deaths had all but faded into obscurity. The moment Jamie showed it to him, though, Paul’s eyes flashed with recognition.

“I remember this! It was a big deal for a couple of days, since the train was derailed by an autonomous vehicle. There was this big thing where people were trying to figure out if it was premeditated or not. They never found evidence to support that, though. But why are you…”

Heather felt, more than saw, the moment that it dawned on him. There was a shift in the air around them, a sudden rush of sorrow and panic and pain and fear. The emotions rolling off him were so potent she could almost taste them.

“No… no no no. That’s… no. I’m wrong, please tell me I’m wrong.”

Jamie couldn’t meet his eyes, and Heather gave him a shrug when he looked towards her. “Yeah,” Jamie whispered. “We’re… kinda dead. Have been for two years now.”

Paul’s legs trembled, and he sat down on the floor to keep himself from collapsing. His face was gray and ashen, and he looked like he might throw up.

“I…” he started, but then stopped. His expression turned from one of disbelief and shock to one bordering on panicked, making Heather raise an eyebrow at him.

“Ah sticks, this is bad,” he muttered, although they both heard him. “Considering all that, deleting your avatars to respawn would just remove you from the game. And that means–”

“The TOWER?” Jamie asked, mirth dancing in her eyes. It seemed Heather wasn’t the only one who got enjoyment out of making others uncomfortable.

“…Yes, that,” he said, letting out a groan. “Well, guess that answers that. Been a while since anyone’s caught me off guard that bad.”

“Yeah, took us a bit to adjust,” Jamie replied, letting out a yawn. A loud rumbling came from her stomach, and she blushed.

“H, wanna get us some food? I wanna catch up with Paul here.” Heather nodded, shooting her a thumbs up as she went to the storage room. She could vaguely hear the two of them talking behind her, making her smile. Even though she couldn’t bring herself to trust Paul (she’d just met him), it was good to see Jamie’s stress melt away, just for a moment.

That smile vanished the moment she walked into the storage room. Seven cans of beans. Two cans of soup. Five cans of corn. A bucketload of water bottles that respawned every night. She’d known they were close to running out of supplies, but she hadn’t realized it was this bad.

“We need to move soon,” she muttered, bringing a finger to her chin. The world around her distorted as LIGHTNING filed her irises, tinting her vision blue, her brain working overtime to calculate the options at their disposal.

This was one of the first applications Heather discovered once she could finally utilize LIGHTNING: enhanced processing speed. Theoretically, such a thing was possible, although it was only to a small extent. Physics in the real world didn’t explain how she could drop a ball from her hand, enhance her processing speed, and then watch it hit the ground roughly a minute later. She had to chalk it up to being in a video game and magic, even if they were playing on Realistic Mode.

She’d trained it to the point that it was instinctual, especially when she went deep in thought. It was simple enough once she’d figured out how it worked—just tracing her nerve patterns and sending some extra energy to her eyes so she could track things better. The whole process barely dipped into her pool of MP, making it her go-to skill.

Her hands, which were reaching towards the cans of soup, slowed to a crawl, revealing the main downside of this ability: her body didn’t increase in speed. It was as if she were swimming through a super dense liquid, struggling to move even an inch.

Maybe five minutes passed like this for Heather, her mind whirling through options while her hands creeped forward towards the soup cans, just barely out of reach. At most, they had half a week’s worth of food left, especially considering how much they both ate. Her STAT increases for the week occurred yesterday, with Jamie’s happening earlier this morning.

Honestly, they couldn’t be any better prepared for the TOWER. Their STATS were as high as they could feasibly make them, they had a few days of extra food, and they really had no reason to stick around.

Still, Heather felt her worries pressing in on her, all the doubts about their plan, compounded by the heightened emotions of her BERSERKER nature. There were so many things that could go wrong, and she had a nagging suspicion that things wouldn’t go as easily as she and Jamie hoped.

Sighing, she pushed those doubts to the side as she let LIGHTNING fade away, the world returning to normal. None of it mattered, not really. It didn’t change what they needed to do; worrying about it would only make her more prone to making mistakes.

Jamie and Paul were still talking once she returned with the soup, but the conversation seemed to have shifted. Neither was smiling, and Jamie’s eyebrows were pinched together in thought.

“…So you think we should join them? They’ll give us revives?” Jamie asked, and Paul nodded.

“Yeah, I do… but I dunno how well it’ll go. They’ve got a LEVEL limit, ya see, and LEVELING doesn’t work the same in Realistic Mode.”

Groaning, Jamie nodded, catching the soup can Heather threw at her. She popped a hole in the metal lid with her pinky finger and guzzled it down, finishing it in record time. Swiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she gently placed the empty can on the ground before turning back to Paul.

“What’s the LEVEL limit?” she asked, and Paul grimaced.

“You have to be LEVEL 50 to join.”

“Well flip,” Jamie said with a wince, “that’ll take years on Realistic Mode, and we really can’t wait that long… is there anything else we can do? Anything at all?”

Paul slumped forward, bringing a hand to his forehead. “Not that I know of.”

“…Um, what’s the problem?” Heather asked from her spot next to Jamie, having already finished her own can of soup. It was still disgusting, but it was better than nothing, and she wasn’t too picky about it anymore.

“The game’s changed since we first came here,” Jamie explained, turning towards her. “Revives can’t be bought at shops anymore and are only distributed to members of FOUNDATION and STEEL HEARTS. Both of which we can’t join because of the minimum LEVEL requirement.”

Paul nodded, adding his own thoughts to the mix. “Revive shops are guarded by members from both guilds, restricting their use. You’d have to fight through the guards to even have a chance at buying one, which would put you on the blacklist for both guilds. All around, not a fun experience.”

Heather hummed, letting LIGHTNING flow through her again. She needed time to think. It didn’t change anything about their immediate plans, but many things hinged on them being able to purchase revives once they made it out of the ABYSS. Without that, she wasn’t sure what they could do to survive in this game.

They could try to convince one of the guilds to take them on as members, which would give them access to revives, but if guilds worked anything like they did when Jamie first described them then it wasn’t the best idea. Revives would probably be rewarded based on merit, so unless she and Jamie regularly risked their lives for the guild, they probably wouldn’t build up enough revives to feel reasonably safe.

Surviving after the ABYSS without revives also wasn’t a feasible option. Leveled Plane was not a peaceful game, especially on Realistic Mode. It was a game based around fighting. No matter what character you chose to go with, there were times where everyone would be forced to fight, according to Jamie.

So that option was out. And since they couldn’t become members of STEEL HEARTS or FOUNDATION, they’d probably end up on the blacklist for both guilds one way or another, considering their skills and abilities. But they also couldn’t go to war with the guilds just to buy revives; they’d be annihilated. What to do…

Suddenly, she remembered something Jamie had mentioned a few months ago, and she felt herself grinning as LIGHTNING faded away. Paul had an eyebrow raised as he watched her, having noticed the brief glowing of her eyes while LIGHTNING was activated.

“Jamie, quick question. You said that guilds can earn revives from QUESTS, but other players can’t, right?”

Jamie nodded, looking lost. “Yeah, but why’s that matter?”

“Well, we’re already gonna be on the bad side of both guilds since our LEVELS won’t be high enough to join, so why not make our own? Gives us revives and keeps us from butting into their business. It’s a win-win.”

Paul’s eyes widened, and he shook his head frantically. “No no no, bad idea. You can’t even create new guilds right now, so that won’t work. FOUNDATION and STEEL HEARTS are guarding the guild creation QUEST.”

Heather deflated. “Well, that sucks. Too bad.”

Jamie squeezed her shoulder, sending her a soft smile. “It was a decent thought, but I agree with Paul. Guess we’ll just have to figure it out once we get there.”

Heather nodded, but then she remembered what was originally troubling her when she brought Jamie food. She swore, which the system once again mangled in her mouth until it was kid-friendly, a feeling she’d grown uncomfortably familiar with.

“Jamie… I think it’s time. Tomorrow’s probably best.” From the way Jamie’s posture shifted and her shoulders tightened, Heather knew she got the message. Paul just looked confused.

“Fine,” she said, standing up. Her eyes looked dull and bleary, like a forest covered in heavy fog, but Heather could feel her determination, that tiny flame refusing to fade. “Tomorrow.”

They nodded to each other, and then Jamie turned back towards Paul. “What’s your CLASS?”

“Um… I got ARTIFICER, but why does that…”

“Cool, cool,” Jamie continued, waving her hand, “by the way, you busy tomorrow? Got a few hours free?”

“I’m off work…?” His reply almost sounded like a question, and Heather chuckled as she watched him grow even more confused, his gaze darting about the room, focusing on everything but Jamie.

“Perfect! We’re tackling the TOWER tomorrow, if you’re interested.” Paul’s eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open in a perfect “O” for a moment before he recovered.

“Not sure how much help I’ll be, but yeah, I’ll join. Anything I can do, I’ll do it. I can't just sit back here and watch while you're both risking your lives. What kinda person would that make me?”

Heather grinned, feeling some of her fears alleviate. If he was this blunt and honest about his feelings, she felt that she could grant him a modicum of trust.

“That’s that, I guess,” she said, clapping her hands twice. Then she paused, remembering what started this whole ordeal. “So… any other questions you have for us?”

“Oh yeah, right! I wanted to ask about–”