Fuck. Game over.

The sword plunged toward him.

Rowan jumped back, drawing his hand spade at the same moment. The spade barely met the sword in time. Red’s blow overpowered Rowan’s parry, but the interception knocked her blade askew. It glanced across Rowan’s ribs, drawing a thin line of red.

“Shit, he’s real?” Red gaped.

“Red!” Blue shouted.

Rowan staggered back, his spade raised.

“Oh, well. Points are points.” Red rushed at him.

Almost automatically, Rowan faded back. Her blade darted at him again and again, but he parried it, instinctively catching her sword on the flat of his spade.

Kaidu’s words echoed in his brain. Short reach, but in return, the flat is wide, and angled oddly from the handle. You have a small advantage in parrying—the wide flat, but also, combat classes trained against conventional weapons will have a harder time catching your fingers.

The Kaidu in his memory snorted and added: If they train at all, of course.

More powerful than he was used to, Red’s blows rattled up his arm, numbing his hand and aching in his bones, but the blows came slow and clumsy compared to Kaidu’s. Rowan raised his offhand to grip his spade and kept going, desperate, but the terror fading. Compared to Kaidu, this is nothing. I could do this all day.

“Argh! Die already!” Red drew back her sword and swung with all her might at his stomach. The sword blurred into silver, too fast for him to track.

Rowan’s eyes went wide. I can’t parry that! He threw himself backward and raised the spade, but Red darted in faster than he could move. He tensed, squinting his eyes shut in preparation for the hit. Dammit! Those stupid stats—

Clang!

Rowan peeked his eyes open. Blue stood between him and Red, walking stick outstretched, now with a dull metallic sheen instead of matte wood. Red’s sword bounced off the staff, and she staggered backward under the force of the rebound.

“The hell, Blue?” Red asked.

“I could say the same! Look at the leaderboards. Does he have any points?”

The leaderboards? Confused, Rowan quickly pulled up the System. A new tab at the top drew his eye, and he clicked on it. A board unspooled before him, listing team names with arrows to the left of the name. Support Team stood near the bottom, with one point to its name. He clicked on the name, and the listing expanded to show the slack faces of himself, Ikara, and Kaidu, plus a third box with a ? over it. Kaidu had one point assigned to him. He and Ikara had zero, and the third box had a ? in its place once again.

Curious, he opened another one of the teams, only to see all ?s. Color Team drew his attention. He clicked on that one, and found the pictures filled in with the faces he’d seen earlier. Red had ninety-nine points, Blue had fifteen, and Green and Yellow both had twenty.

I guess it fills in once you see the people, he reasoned. What if I only see their clones? He moved to click more teams, then stopped himself. Wait, you’re still in danger! Hurriedly, he shut the System.

“Points are points. I don’t care how many he has, even one point is enough,” Red argued fiercely.

“He has no points.”

Red blinked. “Huh?” She squinted at Rowan, and her brows furrowed deeper. “Are you nuts? The day’s almost over!”

“It’s the only thing keeping me alive around—” Rowan bit back lunatics like you at the last second.

Red tossed her head derisively. “Whatever. Let’s go find someone worthwhile, okay?”

Relieved, Rowan lowered his spade. He nodded at Blue. “Thanks.”

Sighing, Blue flicked his staff. The metal returned to wood. “Be careful, kid. I won’t help you next time.”

“Wasn’t expecting it,” Rowan replied. That staff… wood to metal, and back to wood? He’s not an ordinary Mage. Is he an advanced Mage class already? Transmuter, maybe? Some kind of Elementalist? Wish I had Scan. It’s annoying not knowing what level he is, or what class…

Then again, it’s probably the only thing keeping everyone on the map from targeting us support classes, though… he grimaced. Our name on the board could be a little less descriptive…

“Hurry off before I change my mind,” Red spat.

Rowan backed away, then turned and ran, ears pricked for the sound of Red chasing him. No footsteps echoed after him. He rounded the corner and kept going, sprinting deeper and deeper into the city, until he finally felt far enough away and drew to a halt. Leaning on his knees, he sucked air. Damn! That Red girl is a problem!

In the distance, a siren sounded. He checked his watch. 7p.m. A second later, the screen flashed and changed: Two hours remaining scrolled across its surface.

Creeped out, Rowan stared. That’s an ordinary digital watch. The System can interface with that? Is there anything it can’t reach into?

He shook his head. We’re in the Tower, the System’s own reality. Anything is possible for the System here.

Standing, Rowan looked around. Two hours left. Time to find a clone.