“Watch your step,” Lestrat cautioned as he stepped atop the makeshift floor, the inside of the room was elevated in the same manner the rooms outside had been. Following Lestrat’s lead, Roy climbed atop the platform, the plywood creaked and the aluminum shelves underneath scrapped across the ground from the movement.

“We’re thinking of drilling holes into the boards and shelves to bind them more tightly, but we’ve been too busy,” Lestrat explained as he watched Roy test his footing.

The inside of the room was illuminated by a small candle; it stood beside a thin pile of papers and an empty dish. They were the only adornments of the desk nestled deep inside the room. The light from the candle was weak as it flickered over the walls and ceiling of the room.

“Hello Roy,” Madelyn sat cross legged on a mat spread open on the ground, her attire, some dark shade resembling black in the low light, blended in with the ambience. Her hair, black and in a sharp bob, left only her face visible. It’s paleness disturbing in its contrast.

“Oh, hi, good to see you’re alright,” she wasn’t detached, severed from the world like she had been after they found the body in the master bedroom, but there was still something different, something he couldn’t pin down. He had only know Lestrat and the other’s for a day at most.

“Alright, and you?” Madelyn replied, shifting her body to face the two.

“I’m ok...” it felt weird, the short, curt, sentences.

“Ok, and Lestrat. You’ve been crying,” she said it like it was a fact, it was dark enough in the room that Roy could hardly make out the lines on his own palms.

“Ah, that’s nothing really, I’m fine,” the other boy give a short chuckle as he headed towards his work desk.

“Alright, ok and fine,” Madelyn muttered as she directed a lopsided grin to no one in particular.

“Right, before I forget, according to Officer Greyson, Roy will be joining the task force; you should get him acquainted with the basics,” Lestrat talked as he searched through the small pile of sheets, pulling out several as he went along.

“Ah, Nolan,” Madelyn mused as she leaned back on her arms. She was wearing a suit, unbuttoned, as she leaned back the two flaps slid open and dangled onto the ground, revealing a white dress shirt and dark red tie, “Not the most sociable.”

Roy had never worn a suit before, his father often said they were for weak city folk and avoided them like the plague, much to the chagrin of Roy’s mother who was an astute professional. Lestrat on the other hand, gaped in disbelief at the clear disregard for proper dress.

“Madelyn, your attire, it’s...” Lestrat fizzled out as the number of infractions overwhelmed him, should he address the copious number of creases first, or was the fact that the tie hung loosely and dangled off to the side a greater concern.

“Electrifying, enthralling, entrancing?” Madelyn completed, tilting her head to one side.

“What, that, you...” Lestrat spluttered out, his well-formed sentences breaking down into incomprehensible fragments. Surely Roy was intruding, he was about to excuse himself when the boy continued, face flushed with embarrassment, “Apologies Roy, well, I believe we’re mostly done here, I’ll fill out the forms, so feel free to...”

“Right, uh, I’ll take one of the rooms near the back... A few rooms from here of course, so, yeah,” Roy quickly filled in.

“A few rooms away? Why would...” Lestrat managed to choke out the last bit before he buried his face in his hand, “That, no, no, no...”

“Don’t worry, he’ll be ‘fine’,” assured Madelyn as she pulled herself up, the suit still hung behind her shoulder, “We’ll go see Nolan later, for now, farewell!”

Her eyes were like arrow heads and her smile a crooked crescent; hastily, Roy retreated from the room, making sure to close the door behind him. It was nice meeting past acquaintances, especially with all the days he had spent in solitude, but he had never been familiar with these people, and the extreme circumstances only widened the gulf. What was their relationship? Did it matter to him? No, so he would refrain from prying, people had enough stress to deal with without him adding to it.

Recalling his classroom days, Roy wouldn’t be like Julia, who had ruined her friendship because of a few stray comments. He would only take the relevant bits from his conversation with Lestrat to heart, and discard what was outside of his concern.

Roy took a few steps away from the door and looked around at the selection of rooms, they were all five meters by five meters and enclosed by shelves around two meters tall. As Roy looked through them, it was Lestrat had said, they were all empty, aside from the occasional loose item that had been left on the shelf and forgotten. There was a chocolate bar, some gum, a pack of paper towels, and even a bottle of dish detergent.

Roy bit at his new found chocolate bar, it was a cheap knock-off brand with way too much sugar, but it sweetness filled his mouth and he was reminded of his days in front of the computer. Roy turned back after seeing the first inhabited room; he would pick a room at least a few distant from someone else’s. With the walls as thin as they were, that was the best insurance of a shred of privacy.

Roy ended up choosing a room nestled against the left wall, it was two units from the door to Lestrat’s office and two units from the next room in the direction of the storefront. Roy felt safer with one side of the room against a solid wall, since the aluminum shelves could hardly be labeled as sturdy.

The section of wall that he backed held several large stands, they would have held fresh produce, the misting machines frequently spraying the vegetables with a cool layer of water. Now the stands were empty, at least someone had had the presence of mind to wipe away any food residues. It made for a halfway decent table, on the downside, the shelves couldn’t block off the two ends, creating a hole in the feeble structure. He could always cover it up with some curtains or cardboard, following the example of the other residents.

That could always wait until later, for now Roy pulled off his backpack and laid the contents onto the ground. The batteries scattered across the ground, beside the flashlight and radio, this was the tech he had been reduced to. The majority of his backpack had been occupied by a loaf and a half of bread, with the accompanying cans of fish, they made up a balanced and nutritious diet, or so he liked to believe.

Then came the more esoteric items, Roy wore the ring Epipollus had given him on his hand, and if it functioned as a sort of panic button that launched a jet of fire, it would be more useful closer at hand. Roy examined the ring in case it had any additional information; he was sorely disappointed when what the blue screen provided was almost identical to what Epipollus had told him, except that now he knew the ring was made of, “Pyre Steel”. Now if only Roy had been a Crypto-metallurgist.

Since the ring was single use he would have to wait until he was on the cusp of death to find out. Meanwhile he had the flower and the ‘Empyrean Fragment’ to busy himself with. The flower was still as fresh and vibrant as he had remembered it, even in the room, totally cut off from the sun, its bright orange bursts of petals still oozed color. Roy examined it.

Blessed Marigold

The flower was blessed? Was this a joke, how could a flower, among dozens in a stray garden be blessed. Roy held it up to his eyes and turned it from side to side, looking at each individual petal in turn. Were their definitions of blessed different? This couldn’t be an internet rip off, if the system said the flower was blessed then surely it was different from every other flower. Or the system simply adored Marigolds and changed their name to reflect that fact.

Roy delicately placed the flower at his side, would he be smitten for sacrilege if he damaged the flower? Roy didn’t want to find out, so it was best to treat the flower like a sacred object. The next mysterious object was the ‘Empyrean Fragment,” was the stone literally a piece of the sky? Roy felt like Chicken Little, but that was what the name seemed to imply. He had held onto the ‘crystal’ for several days now and nothing seemed to come of it. If this were a game the crystal would surely be a crafting ingredient, or a quest object. If it were the prior, with a name like that, its qualities would surely not be lacking.

A piece of the sky would no doubt be an ingredient for a ‘Heaven Piercing Spear’. Roy caught himself and pulled his mind out of the gutter and focused at the task at hand. Looking at the flower and the fragment, Roy wondered if he could sense their mana as well, just like how he had felt the picture Tig had given him. It was a good an idea as any, so Roy settled down and concentrated on his mana. Slowly Roy placed his finger on the stone.

There was nothing, he could feel the smooth surface of the crystal beneath his fingertips, but the boundary of his mana felt unchanged. The sensation of coming into contact with outside mana had been obvious so far, whether it was Tig’s finger or the picture. A reasonable conclusion was that the crystal had no magical properties, or that he lacked the knowledge and ability to even catch of glimpse of the crystal's properties.

If he couldn’t utilize finesse perhaps he could pry at it using force, or its magical equivalent. He had been gently caressing it with mana, eliciting no response, so Roy took ahold of as much mana as his rudimentary skills could muster and shoved it at the crystal. Grabbing a handful of mana for the flame spell required some control and precision, but simply pushing a vast quantity of mana was considerably easier.

The instant his wave connected with the crystal a shock coursed through his body, his mana flew off him like leaves off a tree. It was instantaneous, his control, his grasp over the mana vanishing in the blink of an eye, leaving his sense grasping at nothing before it began its free fall. Nausea overcame him as his senses struggled to perceive nothing, for his mana was completely gone. Then his flailing senses caught around something, it was minuscule, a droplet of mana at the center of his body. With it Roy extracted himself from his other sense.

Taking in a deep breath Roy stared at the fragment before him, nothing seemed to change, but his perception of it had taken a one-eighty. A quick query brought to mind the information that his MP was at 1. The fragment was powerful, an object like no other he had obtained in his short journey through the neighborhood. He was unfamiliar with the other world, but the piece of crystal screamed legendary. That was if the amount of force his mana felt was proportional to the power of whatever he was sensing.

He could verify this using the flower and the ring. The ring was could shoot a beam of fire, that sounded pretty impressive. He would feel the force that object gave out and use that and the force he had felt coming from Tig’s finger during his training as a standard to compare the other objects to. It sounded imprecise, like he was gauging the hardness of diamond by smashing it and a few other objects using a big rock and reflecting on how he felt when the rock hit the samples. Was this what the first magicians did as they sat hermit-like in their prehistoric wizard caves? Roy’s dress and odor were surely similar enough.

Before he could carry out his experiment, he would first need to wait for his mana to regenerate. Using his time productively, Roy opened up the radio and listened through the transmission, much to his chagrin they were unchanged. Which meant there was no word on help, on the other hand it could also mean things had not deteriorated further.

Closing the radio with a sigh, Roy pulled out the last of his possessions, the empty gun, and the dagger. He hadn’t been the most prudent about looking for ammunition, a fault he should amend but would no doubt forget soon, guns just didn’t have the same ring as magic. The dagger, which he kept in his pocket, had been useful, it was blunt enough that he had yet to cut himself, but sharp enough that with a great effort he had stabbed it through the head of the hastaos. In that regard the dagger had saved his life.

It was also great for breaking in, Roy added, before he tucked the weapon back into his pocket, ending the brief bout of sickness the dagger brought about when he held it. He needed a better way of carrying it around or he would stab himself in the leg, no matter how blunt the tip was. Leaning back, still somewhat conscious of the dagger he had just tucked away, Roy looked over his stash. It was humble but soon it would become a horde, there was no stopping it, amassing junk was the gaming way, not to mention the modern way.

It was too bad the system didn’t come with an inventory, which would make storing his collection all the more easier. As of now, anything he didn’t carry on him was subject to be stolen or lost. It was the end of the world, and he was in a shelter with no door and no roof. Slowly Roy began to split the collection in twain, he would keep the food, radio and batteries here, everything else he could comfortable fit in his bag.

The shelter guaranteed food for now and the bread was perishable, so it was no great loss. The radio and the batteries were also easily replaceable. The only reason he carried the flashlight was because it would come in handy in the dark. The things he would take with him were the weapons and the trinkets; rings, rock, and flower. Their weight was negligible. The only large piece was the pitchfork, and that was now his only operable primary weapon.

Looking at the pitchfork he had spent so many lonely nights with, a tear almost welled up in Roy’s eyes. Gator hunting, corpse duty, he had done so much with it in so short a period of time. In return it had given him a fungal infection that had so far costed him two points in CON. What a wonderful relationship.

As his thoughts flew off to parts unknown something intelligent sprung up from the primordial void. The weapon had been a chore to carry, especially if he needed both hands, but what it he attached some rope to it and formed a sling? He could then carry it slung behind his back. The caveman admired his ingenuity as he sat in the dark recesses of his cave.