Rowan froze. He glanced around. Are they all going to jump on me at once? He backed up to the window, ready to hop back through.

After a few moments, the monsters turned away. Some skittered away or slithered into dark spaces, out of sight. A few eyed him up aggressively, edging closer.

The rat hunkered down, gnawing on something. Rowan locked onto it and inched closer. Alright. Now to draw aggro, but only for that specific rat.

He jogged forward, pacing along the steep arena seating. To his right, concrete risers lifted into the sky; to the left, the arena fell away, almost a cliff. He felt off-balance, as if a force pulled him into the void. Fighting it, Rowan leaned slightly into the wall. It’s okay. The ground is flat. This is safe.

The rat whirled. It chittered at him, hissing. Trying to scare him off, it hopped at him.

How do I get a rat to come after me? Hmm… I know how to get a dog to come at me. Can’t be that different, right? Rowan peered around it. “What’re you chewing on? I want that. Give it to me!” He fake lunged at the rotten, brown thing the rat was chewing on.

The rat jumped at him. Rowan darted back, but the rat only chased him a few steps before rushing back to its food.

Twisting his lips, Rowan shook his head. He jogged back to the window. “Pass me the rake.”

Ikara shoved it out the window to him. Rowan caught it and returned to the rat, hiding the rake behind his back. The rat stared at him warily, beady black eyes tracking his every move. As he drew closer, the rat backed away a step, hesitant. It hissed again, claws bared at him.

He snapped the rake out from behind him and jabbed it at the rat’s food. A quick swish pulled the brown lump toward him.

The rat let out a cry and ran at him. It reached out gnarled claws for the food.

“You want it? Come get it!” Rowan slammed the tines of the rake into the thing and impaled it, then turned and ran, dragging it after him.

The rat leaped after him, screeching all the way. It gathered itself and burst after him, legs blurring as it scurried faster than any rat should. Its black eyes glittered red, and it opened its mouth wide enough to split its jaw, a jumble of layered sharp teeth revealed to the world.

Oh shit! Rowan pumped his arms, rake clattering on the concrete after him. The rat snarled behind him, hot breath impacting on his ankles. He highstepped away from its mouth, eyes wide. The window loomed, a gaping black hole. “Ikara!”

“Ready!” A lump of concrete flew past him. The rat darted to the side and dodged it, buying Rowan enough time to throw himself through the window. The rat jumped after him. Rake down, weighed by the lump, Rowan couldn’t raise it fast enough. He reached for something, anything.

His hand fell in something damp. Rowan’s eyes widened. He shoved. Porcelain scraped across the counter. Slow. Too slow.

Ikara pushed from behind. The toilet slid over just far enough to block the rat’s wild bite. It grabbed the lip of the window and clawed at them, biting wildly. Yellowed teeth scrabbled at porcelain. It started to push the toilet back, into the concession stand.

“No—you—don’t!” Ikara pushed with all her might. In concert, Rowan shoved. The toilet leaned out, toward the rat.

The rat pulled its head back and hissed at them.

“Go, go, go!” Ikara shouted.

“Already on it.”

With a shove, they knocked the piece of the toilet onto the rat. It toppled backward, kicking up a fuss the whole way down. The rat scraped and shoved at the piece of toilet, but before it managed to knock it off, Rowan picked up his rake and pushed its head down. The rat bit at the rake over and over, yellowed teeth kicking sparks off the metal head. “Ikara!”

“Already on it!”

A cinderblock hurtled down on the rat, then another and another. The rat twitched and fought, clawing at the body of the bat underneath it. Rowan leaned more of his weight on it, forcing it down to the ground. The rat stopped fighting, then went still.

Ikara laughed and sat back. “Dang! We could do this all day.”

“Two down, two dozen-or-so to go,” Rowan replied, grinning back.

A flash of light burst out at the far end of the arena, high up on its ruined walls. Rowan stared up, startled. Across the way, a girl about his age stood on the roof, holding a spear loosely in one hand. Quietly, she surveyed the arena, taking it all in.

All at once, she took a deep breath and stepped forward. She dropped into the arena spear-first, one foot braced against the butt of the blade, both hands gripping the butt. The spear plunged into a wild boar-like monster, and with a single squeal, the monster toppled to the ground, lifeless.

“Fuck. There goes our Exp,” Ikara moaned.

Rowan narrowed his eyes. Scan.

From this far, it was hard to make much out, but one thing stuck out to him: Lvl 3.

“She’s taking on this many monsters at that level?” Rowan muttered.

“Combat classes. It’s not fair. How hard did we have to work? And they can just waltz in like that…”

The girl darted from one enemy to another, carving a crest of blood after her. The monsters fled, but couldn’t escape her speed. She casually beheaded a rat monster, stabbed up and caught a bat in the throat, then darted forward and pinned a centipede to the ground. Not once did a single monster come close to her speed. The centipede whipped around to bite at her, only to find her long gone. She leaped into the air, dragging the spear after her. Midleap, she executed a neat somersault and dropped back onto the centipede, spinning the spear around so the blade faced it. It snapped at her, but she held out the spear and bisected it longways as she fell. It quavered one last time, then fell apart into two pieces.

“Fucking dragoons. Who made a spear class that good?” Ikara grumbled.

“What are we even doing?” Rowan muttered to himself. A combat class at that low a level outclasses us to that extent? How can we possibly keep up?

It’s not a matter of if we can fight, as support classes. Anyone can throw a punch. But what’s the point of throwing a punch when your enemy can slice, dice, and make a nice salad out of you before your punch lands?

He shook his head and slapped his cheeks. No. I can't keep thinking like that. We'll do it. It'll take hard work, but we'll get there.