“How’s the book, bro? Inspire another all-night Dungeons and Delves campaign?”

Eric grinned up at Elonia, his sister fully kitted up in thick work boots, three layers of blue jeans, a kevlar vest, and a full shirt of riveted steel mail links that flowed down to her thighs.

“Just as good as the first time I read it. Actually I like it even better now, since I can laugh at all the things my favorite authors got wrong. But yeah, I think you guys will like the next campaign we run. No handouts, but there will be action, adventure, a shit ton of orcs, and just a dash of global conquest,”

His twin gave a thoughtful nod, hardly looking like a girl who had come so close to winning an academy award, back when the world actually made sense.

“Global conquest, orc musketeers, and no fox girls or kindly sages giving us free powers from the very beginning? Sweet! So we’re actually keeping our next couple of gaming sessions realistic.”

“Pretty much,” Eric conceded while gazing fondly at his beloved collection of novels neatly organized on his hardwood bookshelves, each of them promising sweetest escape and refuge from a world gone mad, at least for a few brief halcyon hours, before his sister or someone else made it clear that there were things he needed to be doing, and he damn well better get to doing them.

Elonia smirked, emerald green eyes twinkling as she secured her tactical helmet before pointedly staring Eric’s way.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to hold off on dreaming up the perfect campaign for us, bro. Even if you and I both know you’ll just be daydreaming of an isekai paradises full of fox girls and idiots who can actually level up like it was nothing. Because it’s that time again.”

Eric winced. “You mean rat time, don’t you?”

His sister flashed her thousand megawatt smile. “You know it!”

Eric groaned, finishing his soda and stretching his back. “Is Nelly coming with us?”

“You can seriously ask that? After all the times she’s avoided going out, begging you with her puppy dog eyes to catch a couple rats in her name?" Elonia snorted. "You and I both know that her courage begins and ends with trying to sneak into your bedroom and net herself a cute boyfriend. Especially if he actually knows how to hunt and trap, and can put food on the table after the world went to shit.”

“Yeah, I know. And the looks her parents now give me? That’s been the best cold shower you can imagine. Especially since they double as mom's bodyguards.”

“Nelly does have the cutest country girl smile," Elonia conceded. "But we all know that with the way things are now, if you break her, you bought her. Life’s gone too crazy for any in-between bullshit, and the Tennisons would love nothing more than for their daughter to marry into the family.”

Eric smirked. “And that’s why I lock the door to my room now.”

“Because if she ever snuck in when you’re half asleep, game over.”

Eric’s grin turned to a wince, rubbing his shoulders. “Damn right. And my arms are still sore from this morning.”

This earned a snort. “You were the one complaining about the patches mother dearest still insists you use three times a week. So of course Vincent is going to push you so hard that your body has no choice but to keep the muscle you’ve earned.”

Eric sighed and began to stretch sore muscles until they were limber once more, the fragile sense of peace and happiness that his books normally gave him already dispelled. “By making me spar every bloody day with bayonet and saber. Mom's boyfriend is just as obsessive as he was two year ago, still more than happy to leave bruises if and when I inevitably fuck up my timing or counters. As if I still had any movie scenes left to make a fool of myself in. As if there would ever be another movie playing anywhere, ever again.”

Elonia’s smile hardened. “Quit complaining, Eric, and kit up as soon as you’ve warmed up. You’re spear, I’m crossbow. Same as yesterday.”

Eric bit back a curse before sighing and heading to his room, knowing all too well that none of this was his sister’s fault. Or anyone’s fault, really.

If the world were still sane, he wouldn’t even here. He’d be in Japan right now, and hopefully spending quality time with a certain girl he had met online and totally hit it off with, he thought, checking himself in the mirror once he had finished changing his attire.

He was now fully kitted up much as his sister was, complete with tactical ballistic helmet and a full-sleeved mail hauberk of high quality welded steel links. It was far stronger than any hauberk of five hundred years ago, and fantastic protection when combined with his kevlar vest and thick layers of padding. Even his gloves were reinforced. Because feral rats had nasty teeth, and no one dared risk infection post apocalypse.

He sighed and shook his head, gazing into troubled sapphire blue eyes peering back at him from the mirror. His once flawless features might have been complimented by what was now a powerfully built body, thanks to all the enhancements and training. But his skin was now marred by more than a few acne scars that he no longer bothered using concealer to hide. He merely hoped they would fully heal and fade away, especially now that he had finally manned up and put his foot down about the patches.

Of course, with the absolute collapse of the movie business and pretty much everything else in life, his mother’s cinematic obsession was now the least of his concerns.

Now it was all about survival, he thought, returning to the central chamber of their little underground sanctuary with a final pained glance at his super comfy blanket-covered sofa sanctuary now occupied by a freckled girl who blew Eric a kiss.

“Keep my shield-sister safe, hero, and catch a couple squeakers in my name, pretty please?” Nelly implored before pulling out one of her favorite romance novels and flashing Eric a teasing smile, earning a chuckle from Elonia.

“Sure, shield-sister. I’ll keep him safe and sound,” Elonia quipped. “So long as you keep a tight leash on your little brother. And you can tell him that Eric’s ready for a new campaign. So think up some good builds for us, will ya?”

This earned a mock salute as Eric and his twin headed for the exit, and Eric couldn’t quite hold back a smile when he looked carefully at his sister, who still managed to look like the lead actress in a post apocalyptic survival film. Though she did have the grace to flush under his bemused stare.

“Yes, Eric?”

“We’re going rat hunting, and you actually put on makeup underneath your helmet," Eric said with a smile. "Because you're still the lead actress, and we’re all just supporting characters in another TV special starring the beloved Elonia Silver, with a guest appearance from her flirty best friend and her awkward clueless brother, who would far rather be at home reading a book.”

Elonia chuckled at that. “Damn right I did. And even if he can’t act for shit, at least my bro does look pretty good with those shoulders and holding a badass seven-foot long spear in his hand.”

Eric promptly thumped the shaft of his pilum, the five foot long varnished wooden shaft capped by a two foot long shank of iron with a wickedly narrow pyramid-shaped spear point.

“You know it. These javelins were great for breaking up enemy shield formations on any battlefield, a thousand or so years ago. So why not embrace a resurgence, now that gunpowder is a thing of the past?”

Elonia nodded, before making a beeline to the kitchen, opening up the fully stocked fridge and chugging down half a carton of milk before tossing it to her brother, who happily finished it off. Ice cold, and fresh off the farm. Or at least that was what it tasted like to him.

“Yup. No internet and no gunpowder, not unless you’re a fucking black powder musket-using orc. Worse, we have no electricity, and we have to hunt rats just to survive.” Elonia sighed and shook her head. “And just weeks ago, we were getting ready for the biggest premier of our lives, and your first big break.”

“You mean my first and last," Eric hastily corrected. "Our eighteenth birthday is just a few weeks away, and then I’m off overseas to Japan to put my semester of language lessons to the test, and see if I can start over fresh.”

Elonia nodded. “Because you’re totally smitten by a girl you’ve never even met, and the minute she started floating ideas about going to college part time there and sharing apartment expenses with you...”

Eric had the grace to flush. “Alright, it might not have been realistic, but it could have worked. Maybe. I know I would have enjoyed just exploring a totally knew place, and more importantly...”

Elonia’s teasing smile turned sympathetic. “I know. You would have finally been out from under Mother’s thumb. No longer just Aurelia’s firstborn that those fucking tabloids are always knocking because you refuse to live the badass rebel lifestyle they expect, and just want to be left alone. You’ll get to start over some place wondrous and exotic. Because as much as Mother is… well, Mother, she trusted you enough to let you buy in on some of her investments. And if you cash out… shit. You’ll be independent for life. Not disgustingly rich, but you could at least afford a house and a car anywhere, and still have a plenty left over to take care of a family of your own, while doing whatever the hell you wanted to in life.”

Eric swallowed and looked away from his sister’s pitying gaze, shaking his head. “But none of that matters now. I don’t even know if Utada’s still alive… and I have no way of reaching out to her, even if she was,” he admitted. “All of Mother’s investments, her entire movie empire, don’t mean shit any more.”

Elonia solemnly nodded. “Because the novels you obsessively read were more right than anyone was willing to believe. Earth really did get flooded by energies that no one understands...”

“And modern tech came to a screeching halt, and we’re reduced to hunting rats, just to survive,” Eric finished.

“Pretty much," Elonia conceded. “Alright, bro. Enough reminiscing about ancient history. Time for us to suck it up, and make mom and Vince proud.”

Eric nodded, neither of them bothering to head back to what they thought of as their mother’s half of the underground compound that was somehow both high end luxury hotel suite, and the closest thing to a post apocalyptic shelter Eric had ever experienced outside of his favorite computer games. Because Aurelia Silver had always been a bit mercurial and high strung, even when everything was going perfectly. But now?

Eric gave his sister a wordless half hug when he saw the way she flinched at the sound of distant roaring and cursing. “Yeah, Mother’s not taking the whole post-apocalyptic thing too well, is she?”

His sister flashed a pained smile. “The worst thing is that she’s constantly shouting and cursing at this ‘Sylvan Command’ thing, whatever the hell that even is. Which is insane, because the only tech we have left are crystal radios that don’t require any power, with nothing left on the air waves but one classical station and a handful of AM jockeys telling everyone still listening just how bad it’s getting out there.”

Eric nodded, spinning open the wheel securing their little sanctuary from the drainage tunnels just beyond. “And that’s the big fucking difference between fantasy novels and the real world. Sure, tech might have ended and alien abominations that look way too much like the monsters you might find in a hundred fantasy novels might be bent on wiping out all of humanity, but none of us started with a magical voice in our head, unlocking mystical classes and powers.”

Elonia chuckled softly as Eric took point, scanning the tunnels lit up by the occasional fluorescent light that by some miracle hadn’t died, even with no power supply, while Elonia sealed the shelter entrance behind them. “Nope. No free lunch. Because sure, there are ways to actually connect your mind to whatever the hell this System is, and supposedly people who do that do get faster and stronger, and claim to be able to level up. But there’s just one teeny tiny problem.”

Eric smirked and nodded. “A fucking ridiculously high mortality rate. And if daring the pods isn’t a death wish… I don’t know what is.”

Elonia dipped her head in agreement, and neither said another word as they began traversing the old brick lined tunnels smelling so strongly of clay of limestone that they now knew like the back of their hands.

Because now they were on the hunt, and the last thing Eric wanted was to let his prey know that dinner time was a-comin’… at least not before their final bell was rung.

Thwack!

“Nice shot, Elonia!” Eric cheered, pleased that they had finally bagged a kill after being forced to dare a darker stretch of tunnel off their beaten path. An area of the sewers where the sporadically flickering fluorescent lights truly were almost dead. The tunnel was as dark and gloomy as the setting of any horror movie Eric could think of, giving even him the creeps. Frankly, he was impressed that his now triumphantly hooting sister had been able to make the shot.

Elonia was quiock to recock her crossbow with stirrup and belt hook, carefully inserting a fresh quarrel as the remaining two-foot long, beady-eyed rats fled deeper into the darkness… but not before the creatures gave them both red-eyed glares of absolute hate that chilled Eric to the quick.

If he didn’t know better…

His brow tightened as he caught his sister’s gaze. “Elonia...”

“I know. Get that fucker and hurry back up. I think we’re done with this tunnel.”

Eric gave a relieved nod, glad that he wasn’t the only one who was finding the rats behavior more than a bit odd… and that wasn’t even counting the fact that the suckers they had faced down today were nearly two feet long.

Without counting the tail.

And as grateful as Eric was to be done with this increasingly creepy section of the tunnels, he couldn’t quite ignore the awful tingle up and down his spine, as if expecting some giant rat queen to clamp her jaws on his neck from behind, as he rapidly approached the fallen rat.

The feeling was bad enough that he spun around twice, and couldn’t help but chuckle to see nothing but his impatient-looking sister now some distance away, and nothing else.

And that was the problem, he thought with a sudden awful chill when he turned back to where Elonia had struck her prey.

Because the rat was gone.

Eric’s heart lurched in his chest.

He whispered a soft curse and immediately turned back to lock gazes with a confused-looking Elonia. “Eric, where the fuck is my kill?”

Eric’s apologetic shrug turned to a desperate cry. “Elonia! Behind you!”

Elonia’s eyes widened in alarm as she turning around so slowly, too damned slowly, as a half dozen two-footers jumped her from behind.

“Elonia!” Eric screamed, sprinting back to his sister’s side for all he was worth as she screamed and thrashed while frenzied rats did everything they could to gnaw into her flesh, without a single squeal among them. Acting more like a pack of wolves than rodents. Or hunters on a mission to bring down what was, for them, giant sized game.

Then all rational thought was replaced by fury as he slammed into the rats, stomping and kicking the bastards trying to take a bite of his sister, furious leather-gloved hands wrenching the 20 plus pound monsters, raising them high before slamming them on the hard stone tiles at their feet, ignoring furious squeals and bites that took out chunks of his flesh even through thick leather gloves and triple denim leggings.

But didn’t do shit against the toughened leather work boots, and by the time the rats had been flung off his now sobbing panicked sister who’s face and neck were thankfully free of those vicious teeth marks, Eric had already reclaimed his pilum and was savagely thrusting it at the now chittering rats with a howling fury that would have done even his trainer proud, happily pouring a countless hours of disciplined training into piercing blows that shattered yellow-orange teeth before Eric wrenched his weapon back in a shower of blood.

The remaining rats charged Eric as one.

Eric welcomed their charge as he dropped his spear before unsheathing a weapon all but designed for dealing with the savage press of close-quarters melee combat.

A 1796 cavalry saber that was every bit a good a cutter as all the fanboy sites used to rave. Even though he wasn’t an English cavalryman facing Napoleons legions, but a desperate kid doing all he could to take out the rodent menace that had nearly killed his sister.

An unforgivable act that he was determined to answer in kind, laughing like a madman as the rodent’s furious chitters became panicked squeals as the cleaving arcs of his blade spattered the corridor in great splashes of arterial crimson.

Until only one crippled rat was left, limping away as fast as it could… and Eric didn’t hesitate to grip his pilum in hands covered in bite marks and shredded gloves before making the best throw of his life, his spear bursting right through the squealing menace, the corridor now awash with the innards of their foes.

An exhausted Eric collapsed to his knees, gazing down at his own bloody hands in stupefaction as the post battle crash left him feeling so sick he thought he would puke. He trembled and shaking like he was having a breakdown, praying it would pass, so dazed he could hardly think as his sister shook and sobbed beside him.

“Oh god, Eric. I thought I was a goner. I thought I was a fucking goner! Those little shits, those monstrously clever little… fuck, those aren’t normal rats, Eric. They couldn’t be!”

Eric winced, but forced himself to nod as the shakes finally began to ease. Even as he winced and groaned with pain adrenaline was no longer numbing. “Those shits are growing. Mutating. Something. And they’re no longer dumb beasts, Elonia.”

“They hid their own dead from us. They even tried to trap and ambush us, Eric.” She swallowed, shaking her head. “Oh god, this is so fucked up! If even the fucking rats in the sewers by our home are beginning to mutate...”

Eric clenched his jaw, locked gazes with his sister, then slowly dipped his head. “Then it means we’re running out of time.”

Elonia paled. “So, what do we do?”

Eric forced himself to say words he never thought would cross his lips willingly. “There’s always the pod. And we know where the roots are.”

Elonia winced. “With a 90 fucking percent mortality rate. God, are we fucked.”

Eric nodded. “Pretty much.”

“Eric?”

“Yeah, sis?”

“Thanks for saving my life.”

And before Eric could think of any witty rejoinder, his sister was sobbing and squeezing him so tight he thought a rib would crack, her tough demeanor cracking enough to reveal the terrified girl right underneath.

Eric patted her back. “Don’t worry about it, sis. Everyone knows that the sidekicks are all about heroically saving the lead at the last second. Because we always keep our princess safe.”

Elonia snorted. “Shut the fuck up, bro. Now come on. Quit wincing like a baby! Here, I’ll preprare the kills... Shit, that’s gotta be over a hundred pounds! Okay, rope and twine time. Good. Can you walk okay? Then let’s get the fuck back home, like right fucking now.”

Eric gamely nodded, doing all he could to limp behind his sister, the pair of them carrying their game strung up on the spear now resting on both their thankfully padded shoulders.

But it was too little too late, as the distant sounds of chittering rats grew in intensity, and hostility.

Elonia flinched, eyes showing a vulnerability he never would have expected, before today. The primal terror of a predator that senses it had just become the prey.

With a wordless nod, they simultaneously dropped the meat-pole, Eric pausing only long enough to extract his weapon before they fled for all they were worth.

With any luck, the too clever rats would stop to do whatever they did with their dead, giving Elonia and Eric the time they needed to flee. Because as confident as they had been in both their prowess and the strengths and weaknesses of their favorite prey, daring these darker corridors had revealed secrets that made it damn clear that the twins were very low on the totem pole indeed.

Low enough that half a dozen two foot long rats had almost spelled their end.

Elonia choked down a whimper, panicked eyes locking with Eric’s own. “They’re not stopping!”

Eric clenched his jaw, jerking a nod. “And that sounds like a fuck ton more than half a dozen.”

“Eric, you know what we gotta do!”

It was all Eric could do to bite back bitter laughter, already knowing exactly what Elonia meant.

“I thought we agreed we’d never dare topside again. Come on, the shelter isn’t that far off. All we have to do is turn left and...” Eric’s words died in his throat, when a fresh round of squeaks came from the sewer tunnel of modern concrete leading back to their de facto home under the most famous hotel in the city.

Elonia hissed. “Shit, Eric, they’ve ready to cut us off! This wasn’t a coincidence. No way this bullshit was coincidence! Come on, bro, you know what we have to do!”

Eric’s heart was pounding with dread, knowing his sister was right. They had effectively been outmaneuvered by a swarm of rodents.

Savage rats that had actually managed to knock over his sister at just a fraction of the count he sensed growing behind them now.

So when Elonia began racing towards one of the few emergency exits that Vincent and his mother had prepped weeks ago, Eric didn’t hesitate to follow. Because the rats’ effective trap was only in play if they stuck with the tunnels. There was at least one way they could slip past the rats’ too clever trap.

But for that, they needed to dare the surface and get close… too close to the central park above.

If things worked like they hoped… they’d be safely home, none the worse for wear, in a matter of minutes.

Should things go south, however…

Then rat bites would be the absolute least of their concerns.

Elonia flashed a hopeful smile, for all that she was heaving like a bellows. “Fuck, what a workout! Hey, bro? And look at that, we now know for damn sure that we’re near central park!”

Eric nodded as his mad sprint along the tunnels turned to a slow jog and then a thoughtful walk, ears awash with the gentle soothing hum that somehow promised salvation, rejuvenation and sanctuary all at once.

Eric found himself stumbling to a stop, breathing in rich golden light in an atrium-like section of the tunnels covered in tiles that were somehow reminiscent of a Turkish bathhouse, complete with steamy sauna-like humidity, golden light, faux marble pillars, and at the center of that unexpected little nook in the passageway, a gently pulsating knot of roots ascended from floor to the tunnel roof above, glowing the ivory white of a unicorn’s horn.

It was a sight so beautiful that it brought tears to Eric’s eyes, the threatening squeaks now some distance away forgotten as if they never were.

Eric turned with an awed grin to catch his sister’s gaze. “Can you feel that?” He said in a voice that was little more than a whisper. “It’s here! Why the fuck are we holding back? The answer to all our problems is right here!”

Strangely, the enthusiastic smile and nod he had so expected from his twin was wiped off her face. In it’s place was a look of dismay that wilted Eric’s heart to see. “Eric, step away. Please, step away from that thing right now!”

Eric frantically shook his head. “No, no, you got it wrong, sis.” His eyes were alit with wonder and exhilaration in equal measure, feeling just like he did when figuring out a frustrating puzzle in his favorite RPG game, unlocking a new class, or discovering the secrets to a grand power that would change absolutely everything.

“Wait, Elonia, don’t you see? All our worries were fucking pointless! We had nothing to fear. The pod will welcome us. Look!”

“Eric, back away!”

Eric frowned at the raw panic he heard in his sister’s voice.

“That’s the pod! Don’t you get it?” Elonia’s voice took on a desperate urgency. “The pod’s roots! 90% mortality rate, bro! So get the fuck away!”

But her words were like the cry of distant gulls competing against the crash of surf and spray as Eric’s soul was caressed by glorious tides of power that could so easily be his, that wanted to be his. And all he had to do was surrender. Give in. Allow himself to become one with the pod, and accept whatever was coming.

What would be, would be.

And how effortless it was! His hands, already sinking into the roots’ sponge-like exterior, looking so tough, so rigid, but effortlessly accepting the gift of his hideously mangled limbs.

Now utterly free of the agonizing throbbing that had been a constant torment since taking out the rats, already knowing that he had lost at least half of a pinky… yet now there was no pain at all. In fact, a bemused part of him noted, it almost felt like he had no hands whatsoever!

What a blessing, to feel so utterly free of pain.

It was almost… bliss.

“Eric! Get the fuck away from that thing!”

A heartbeat later, Eric found himself screaming as a wild spike of pain blasted through his skull…. And then nothing. Just him gazing stupidly up at his sister who was all but sobbing with fear as her striking green-gold eyes gazed desperately into his own.

“Eric? Eric, fucking talk to me! Are you okay?”

Eric furrowed his brow, feeling so dizzy he could throw up, and strangely clearheaded. Perhaps the first time in a long, long while.

There were so many things he had so blissfully taken for granted, that made no sense at all. With power out citywide… worldwide… how the fuck did they still have lights and power? If life had basically ground to a halt… how exactly was it that he and Elonia had chugged a quart of perfectly fresh milk before heading out to hunt the rats their lives supposedly depended upon? Especially when he could recall damn well the rather delicious medium rare burger he had had earlier that day.

Yet somehow, for some reason, whenever they headed out, they were compelled by the need to feed their friends and family. As if their lives depended on the pair of them being skilled hunters.

Yet Eric was now dead certain that they had never eaten a single rat, since the world had come to an end.

Feeling simultaneously clearheaded and dazed beyond belief, Eric found himself bursting with questions he was desperate for answers to. Yet with the frustrated squeals of rats echoing through the tunnels, he asked the only thing that mattered. “Do I still have my hands?”

He knew it was a stupid question, but at that moment, he was too terrified even to look.

Elonia gazed at him for long seconds, and choked back a wince as she checked, before she sighed in exhausted relief. “Yes, you fucking idiot, you still have your hands.”

Her brow then furrowed. “But… um… where are your gloves?”

Eric blinked, scattered thoughts snapping into focus as he gazed at fingers in absolute pristine condition. Naked hands. Because the thick leather gloves that had served him so well for weeks were gone.

Eric shook his head. “You know what? I have no idea.”

Elonia flinched as the sound of furious rodents grew louder. And closer. “Alright, no time to worry about stupid shit. Let’s hit the emergency exit. If the stash is still in place...”

Eric immediately nodded. “Then we got a spare crossbow. Two is twice as good as one, especially if we’re actually going to do what I think we’re going to do.”

Elonia’s features tightened. “You know we have no choice, bro.”

Eric sighed, but didn’t deny it. Because if it was a choice between daring the city above for a couple blocks in the dead of night, or facing dozens of oddly sentient rats below… the choice was no real choice at all.

Eric frowned at how his sister positioned himself as they picked up their pace once more. “Why do you insist on jogging to my right?”

His sister flashed a pained smile. “So that death-weed can’t charm your too-weak brain into slipping between its roots to your death a second time.”

Eric winced at those words, feeling a hot flush creep up his cheeks. “I… yeah. Now that we’re away from that golden light, I can’t believe how much I just wanted to close my eyes and slip right in, like relaxing in a nice warm sauna.” His brow scrunched in sudden confusion. “And there were a couple things I wanted to ask you, but I can’t even remember what the fuck they were.”

Elonia flashed a pained smile. “When we’re out of here, bro, ask me all the questions you like. As far as that pod trancing you out, I so want to say that’s a good thing. That maybe it means…”

“That it won’t kill us outright?”

Elonia snorted. “Or maybe it will find us particularly tasty. Did you think about that? But yeah. I’ll give you double standard odds you’ll survive, if you actually dare that level of stupidity again.”

Eric’s grin immediately wilted. “In other words, I’ll only be 80% likely to die.”

His sister chuckled softly. “Come on. We turn left here… excellent! Emergency stash and exit, here we come!”

Chapter 1 - Part 2

“This is crazy, you know that, right?” Eric said, taking in their surroundings. For the moment, this mostly dry section of the sewers was empty, save for a single trickling stream by the far wall, lit by the very occasional flickering light overhead. The air smelled like the clay of old kiln-fired bricks which the arched tunnels had most definitely been made of. The biggest miracle was that they were relatively clean, with no signs of decay after years of neglect, and that it didn’t smell like sewage at all.

Elonia’s flawless features smiled back into his own; brilliant green eyes flecked with gold pierced him with the same intensity they had on the covers of countless glamour magazines. “Don’t be getting cold feet on me now, Eric. We got rats crawling up our ass, and even with the crate barricade we put up with our supply stash, thanks to your hands being 100% again, those fuckers can just wait us out if we stay here. Besides, we’ve been planning on taking a look for ourselves what topside was like, ever since the world ground to a halt, and this city got flooded by more orcs than World of Warblades!”

Eric flinched and lowered his gaze, looking anywhere but at his too-persuasive sister, captivating even without the trappings of wealth and elegance that had once been both their birthright. Now, after making use of the stored supplies in the stash of crates that were now blocking the entrance to this part of the sewers while doing their best to ignore furious rats gnawing at the wood on the other side of their blockade, they could only hope that their attire wouldn’t stick out like bright shiny chain mail hauberks would have. They had swapped steel mail for thick layers of corduroy and denim with padded boots to keep their footsteps quiet and sturdy jackets and gloves made of real working-man’s leather, tough as rawhide, and waterproofed to boot. Best of all, their attire stuck out a hell of a lot less than metal armor, and would still serve as decent protection against scrapes, cuts, and most importantly, bites.

As for added protection, they still had their kevlar vests.

Hopefully, it would be enough.

Even dressed like refugees doing their best to survive in the city sewers, complete with the recurved crossbows they presently had cocked and loaded, Elonia still somehow managed to look larger than life. She seemed as if she wasn’t just another survivor forced to hunt for rats when the world above went absolutely mad, but like a famous actress playing the role of a survivor, the lead heroine in a script destined to make her a star.

Elonia stepped forward, gently squeezing his shoulder with her free hand, both of them trained enough to always keep their crossbows pointed away from each other, no matter how casual, or hectic, the moment might be.

“Eric, we have to do this. We have to make for the sewer entrance cross the park. As long as we keep a low profile, under cover of the night, and stick to the alleyways, we can hopefully blend in if any blending in is needed. And if trouble comes our way...

Eric winced, then sighed, giving his sister a reluctant nod. “We have the crossbows for a reason. I just… I just don’t want to see the shit that Four Dog is warning us all to be ready for.”

Elonia’s gaze grew solemn. “That the orc’s aren’t content with just enslaving us or treating us as second-class trash. That they’re rounding up people to sacrifice to their pod. Right?”

Eric winced. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Elonia’s eyes hardened. “Then maybe, as much as I hate to say it, we need to see it.”

Eric’s eyes widened at those words. “What the hell are you talking about?”

His sister glared at him. “How fucking close did you just come to sinking right into the roots of that pod, brother dearest? How fucking close did I come to losing you forever? I sure as hell hope that I never have to find out. But maybe seeing for ourselves what happens to people like you and me who dare the pods… or are forced into the pods, like all the AM jockeys swear is happening, maybe that will finally bring home what an 90% or 80% mortality rate actually means.”

Eric cursed softly, shaking his head. “Shit. Maybe I do need to see it. Because even now, if you weren’t with me...”

His sister flashed a pitying smile. “If you were alone and you felt the warmth of those roots caress your skin… I’d probably lose you forever. I know.”

“Damn, you make me sound like a desperate addict willing to sell his soul for a fix.”

He winced and silently cursed the stupid words that just had to slip past his lips. “Sorry, Elonia. I...”

He wilted under her suddenly cold stare. But all she said was, “Come on, bro. Time to man up and do this.”

He tried to apologize once more, but his sister was no longer listening, loping up the metal bar steps with a feline grace before smacking a fist-sized hydraulic button that caused the manhole cover to slide back with an odd grating sound.

Eric blinked, stunned by the sight. “Wait… that requires power. It has to! How the hell did it do that? And the questions I had for you... Shit, our home! We have working lights, AC, and cold and hot water. We even have a working fridge! How the hell do we have a fully stocked working fridge? Elonia, wait up!”

But his twin was already gone.

“Fuck!”

Heart in throat, Eric raced up the metal bars himself, before almost slipping and discharging his crossbow, forced to slow down his pace and accept that, for all that they were fraternal twins who had looked near identical as children, he would never match his sister. She had blossomed into an exquisitely graceful athlete of an actress, whereas he couldn’t act for shit, no matter how much their mother screamed at him to try harder. Quick reflexes and a half-decent right hook would never in a million years grant him his sister’s exquisite grace.

And that was far from their only difference.

Whereas Elonia’s natural charisma and strikingly beautiful looks had her winning the adoration of countless fans, he just looked and acted like the awkward teen that he was. Like an accident of birth, as opposed to the stars aligning, as countless fans of his mother and sister’s films had derisively pointed out on more Self-Tube videos or chat groups than he cared to admit.

His shyness and love of video games certainly hadn’t helped his case; he had been the butt-end of jokes in his sister’s fan clubs since he could remember, no matter how much his mother’s trainer had made him lift and spend way too many hours training that he could have spent happily gaming, all to better fit in shoes he had no hope of ever filling.

“Elonia, wait up!”

Not daring to hesitate for another second, he climbed up the steps as fast as he dared, and then it was Elonia giving him a boost up into a world filled with mounds of trash bags smelling of week-old diapers, rotting produce, and vomit. It was a putrid stench the bitter cold air couldn’t completely abate, and Eric fought the urge not to vomit as best he could.

“Oh god, that’s awful!”

Elonia, looking a bit green around the gills herself, yet no less graceful for it, gave a quick nod. “Tell me about it. But look up. What do you see, bro?”

Eric did just that, the awful stench forgotten as a sight of majestic wonder left him breathless.

A brilliant kaleidoscope of stars all the colors of the rainbow, and the aurora borealis all rolled up into one magnificent display.

It filled Eric with wonder and horror in equal measure. He had studied enough astronomy as part of his homeschooling curriculum to know what the night sky should look like.

He turned to his sister, her innocent smile making it clear that she had no idea what he was about to say.

“Elonia?”

“’Sup, bro?”

He chuckled softly. “Sure as shit, we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

Elonia frowned. “Come again?”

Eric pointed straight up. “We migrated. None of the constellations match, and we’re in the middle of a galactic nebulae coloring half the night sky.”

His sister frowned thoughtfully. “Or maybe Earth is where it’s always been, and the forces and fields of magic are just revealing that which had always been hidden before?”

Eric blinked at that. “Good point. Maybe we didn’t move after all,” he conceded, doing his best to ignore the icy chill of the November wind gusting through the derelict city streets as he took in a collage of ruined cars, broken windows, and buildings that looked like they had been falling into ruin over a period of years, not a mere handful of weeks.

Eric’s roving eyes soon caught sight of more than a few slumped-over forms that he was sadly certain would never get up again. Especially the ones being presently savaged by a handful of giant rats. The farthest thing from the decent-sized 18 inch long beasties that he and his sister hunted every day. Every day before today, at least, when the sewers below had suddenly upped the peril to two-footers.

Rats that now seemed a complete joke compared to these mastiff-sized rats that made the swarm of rats below look like child’s play. The giant rodents before them were peering at the world through glaring red eyes radiating a malicious sentience, almost identical to the near sapient-hate he had spotted in the rats below. And all of them were squealing with a savage hunger that sent chills down Eric’s spine.

It was all he could do not to flinch and jerk the trigger of his crossbow, when one of the furiously chittering rats snapped its massive head around to glare their way.

Eric’s breath turned rapid as his heart began to race. “Shit! These are even worse than the rats in the sewers!”

Elonia, much to Eric’s surprise and envy, was nodding, cool as a cucumber, as if she hadn’t been the one that had been nearly swarmed to death, just minutes ago. Her crossbow was now held in a balanced stance, and looked ready to hit her target dead-on. Like she always did. “I know.”

“How?”

This time, Elonia’s lips curled in a bemused smirk. “Same as the stars above, bro. Same as daring the pods that will lead most people to their deaths.”

Eric sighed. “You’re going to say ‘magic’ aren’t you.”

“Of course I am! And how fucked up is it that these goddamned creatures are growing faster, smarter, and a fuck ton larger, and we’re still stuck as classless nobodies?” She tittered a mirthless laugh. “Oh we are so fucked, bro. The pods are madness. That pod might have killed you. But if this is the shit we’re going to face… if it’s just going to get worse as weeks turn into months, and the months turn into years… maybe the answer isn’t quiet so clear cut as I had thought it was.”

Eric furrowed his brow. “Just what the fuck are you saying?”

She bit her lip thoughtfully. “Do you think maybe that’s why mom’s insisting we do all the hunting? That maybe that’s the secret to all this?”

Eric blinked, now fighting not to shiver as the howling wind picked up bite. “Come again?”

Elonia rolled her eyes. “I mean, being eligible to grab a class of our own. Eligible to live and level up!”

Eric’s eyes widened. “Wait. Seriously? You think that’s the secret? That all the hunting we did below, before being hunted ourselves, was preparing us, somehow? And that maybe if we bag a few of these rats...”

“These obviously highly sentient and malicious looking as fuck-all rats. Good thing there’s only three and not fucking dozens of them like below, or I’d be pissing myself,” his sister qualified.

“… will somehow improve an 80% or 90% mortality rate? Elonia, we’ve killed hundreds of rats. Enough so that even I don’t feel like a complete idiot firing a crossbow.”

Elonia glared at Eric for a quick heartbeat before chuckling ruefully, focus once more on the rodents that had never stopped glaring at them with inhuman hate. “Okay, yeah. That’s a good point. If we could have leveled up by now, we already would have, because you couldn’t shoot for shit, not that long ago.”

Eric smirked. “Thanks.”

Elonia flashed a cheeky smile, before her gaze grew strained, both of them shivering at the sound of desperate shrieks in the distance.

Human shrieks.

They both understood what it meant.

“Still, you can’t deny that here’s a huge difference between the stupid animals we were hunting three days ago, the sentient fuckers below, and these clearly malicious power-saturated fucks. Maybe the secret isn’t killing a hundred brainless animals, Eric. Maybe we just need to take out some clearly evolved monsters.”

Eric blinked at this. “Wait, Elonia, what are you—”

But his sister had already spun about and fired so fast that Eric hadn’t fully registered it before the lead rat, a good three and a half feet long, with a body more like a wild dog than a rats, began squeaking aggressively their way.

Eric’s nonplussed state turned to panic-infused action when the remaining rodents began squealing their outrage, and it almost felt like someone else’s hands when he assumed a shooter’s stance, sighted his target, the second largest rat, and squeezed the trigger just as the last pair of furious beady eyes turned their way, back legs of the second largest rat bunching to charge right for them.

And a heartbeat later it was toppling over, stone cold dead when Eric fired what he swore was the best shot of his life.

Leaving just one giant-sized rat squealing in furious alarm and Eric now armed only with a saber that he had never used on a pitbull-sized monster before, his desperate hand clawing to unsheathe it in time while fumbling with his crossbow and knowing he was absolutely dead if that creature got ahold of his throat...

Before he blinked in relief when the surviving rat turned and fled, its furious squeaks fading in the distance.

“Shit,” he softly said, crouching to his knees, his body trembling with the shakes. “That was close. That was too fucking close.”

He swallowed his suddenly parched throat as his sister flashed him her million megawatt smile, the shared terror they had both felt moments before now gone like it had never been.

“See? Even their behavior is different,” Elonia noted. “This strain of monster rats think for themselves. They’re putting their own safety above any group collective, while the two-footers we encountered below all acted like extensions of a hive mind. Or at least, the ones occupying that one part of the sewer we were forbidden to enter.”

She frowned thoughtfully in the direction of the trash strewn alleyway the surviving rat had raced off to, while using foot prod and belt hook to recock her crossbow in a single smooth, practiced motion. “Look on the bright side, bro. At least we now get points for taking out all three types of rats. If any of them will give us an edge with, well, whatever we decide… we’ve done everything possible to prepare ourselves, with our training, and our killing, except kill an actual orc, ha ha. Now let’s get going. The sooner we head to our backup entrance, the better. Because I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling way too exposed out here.”

Eric held his sister’s gaze for long moments, before jerking a nod.

“Good. So what the fuck are you waiting for? Re-cock your crossbow, and let’s get under some cover.”

Eric snorted at that, but didn’t hesitate to use stirrup, cocking rope, and belt hook to draw back recurved crossbow limbs capable of shooting quarrels over 350 feet per second with the smooth efficiency of long practice before slipping a fresh bolt into place. He immediately felt better, his weapon loaded and at the ready once more, grateful that the rugged design of this fiberglass bringer of death meant that the quarrel wouldn’t easily jostle free. Though he was a bit surprised not to receive a snarky comment from his sister when it still took him twice as long to finish as her. But she was already darting to a nearby alley and waving at him to get a move on.

Because when it came to fluid coordinated movements, she would always be his better, no matter how much faster he could cut with his blade. Jerky, sloppy movements that lacked all grace, unworthy of any performance or ballad. Good only for the ugly killing fields of war, as his mother had wryly noted more than once while Eric was training his heart out. Yet despite his best efforts, he couldn’t deny that Elonia still showed him up when it came to putting on a performance onscreen with words or steel.

At least his blade was the one arena where he didn’t completely embarrass himself. But when it came to what it truly meant to perform, Elonia belting out lines with such passion that she could bring an entire production to vibrant life, to the point that a mesmerized Eric would sometimes forgot his own lines, his twin truly was a star. And he? Well, he was her brother. And that was good enough for him.

“Elonia, wait up!” he hissed, racing after his sister who was loping for a nearby alley.

Eric took one final look back at the heaps of trash swarming with flies that hid their sewer entrance so well before darting after her and cursing under his breath, already knowing how exposed they would be, before this was all finally over.

“We’re both being idiots. We’re better off waiting in a nearby building until the rats give up and leave!” He hissed breathlessly as they continued making their way down thankfully abandoned alleyways, always making sure the coast was clear, even in the dark, before daring to cross any streets. “And compared to the 3-foot fuckers built like pitbulls that we just faced down, the shitheads below are a joke! Look, we just wear an extra thick pair of pants we grab from the crates, re-don our steel mail hauberks, and as long as we keep our feet, we will butcher those fuckers with saber and spear, and all they’ll be able to do is gnaw on our rawhide boots!”

His sister, of course, wasn’t listening. And he didn’t entirely blame her. Because no matter how much he was blathering, Elonia had almost been swarmed and devoured by those things. The thought of actually making her slip back into the gloomy tunnels and face down those red-eyed fuckers again? Yeah, that wasn’t happening. And now he was certain that, crazy as it had been, shooting the dog-sized rat in the face was her compensating for the fact that she would never dare face an entire swarm of them in the dark again.

Their rat hunting days were pretty much over. Eric now knew that for sure. Especially when all his words did was earn him his sister’s glare.

Because of course he should be shutting the hell up, lest his nervous blather alarm assholes that would otherwise leave them alone. Eric winced under his twin’s glare, her message requiring no words at all to convey.

Because he knew damn well that up here, rats weren’t the only menace they had to fear.

His heart was pounding, fearing peril around every corner. Yet all they saw were empty streets and alleyways void of everything save ruined buildings that Eric did his best not to distracted by, doing his best not to look too closely at the occasional figure huddled in their own private misery.

Yet Eric’s tension only increased every second they drew further away from their shelter, even if questionable safety was less than two hundred yards away, so long as they didn’t mind exposing themselves, should they need to beat a hasty retreat. Yet Eric felt sick with mounting tension, until they finally reached their destination at the end of a narrow dumpster-laden walkway between apartment buildings bordering what had once been a park, and was now a scene right out of a horror movie.

In the center of the former park was a massive shallow pit filled with red-hot coals from which shrieks could even now be heard, giving a hellish backlight to countless hundreds of men, women, and children huddling together in terrified clusters, shivering in the cold night air. Helpless survivors herded and manhandled by massive humanoid abominations that looked like grizzly bears crossbred with pigs and the ugliest steroid-shooting jocks Eric had ever had the displeasure of seeing, all of them possessing brilliant white tusks, strangely mobile snouts, and beady red eyes glittering with a feral intelligence as they glared with unmistakable malice at the terrified humans who barely came up to mid-waist.

Eric didn’t care how much they looked like oversized linebackers with squat legs fit into leather pants and boots with massive shirts of thick iron links covering their bristly furred torsos and four-fingered arms, most of them holding bayoneted muskets as long as any decent sized spear. Those purple and green-skinned monstrosities were the farthest thing from human, and they showed their desperately pleading victims no more mercy than lions savaging their prey.

“Eric, they’re forcing those people into the pod! And those who don’t… oh god, they’re throwing everyone else into that fire pit!” He winced at the way his sister’s clawed hand gripped his wrist with the strength only adrenaline and horror could bring. Wide, frightened eyes, forced to take in the same horrors he was.

Giant orcs were deliberately pruning the huddled ranks of humanity, coldly plucking what Eric could tell were the oldest members of any group, utterly ignoring the desperate cries for mercy before tossing their frantically struggling victims through the air and into the macabre fire pit as casually as Eric would toss his dirty laundry into the washer. And the way they rumbled with unmistakable laughter at the piteous shrieks and wails coming from the fire pit made it all too clear that these abominations were enjoying their victims suffering one of the most hideous deaths imaginable.

It was a scene of living nightmare Eric felt searing itself forevermore into a brain so stunned by the enormity of the horror before him that all he could do was watch, even as a tiny corner of his mind not frozen with fear shrieked with outrage, finally coming face to face with not just indifference or callousness, but actual unmitigated evil.

Then he caught sight of true horror, his sister’s perfectly lacquered fingertip pointing past the fire pit to a sight he had tried so desperately hard to avoid looking at.

A massive, giant pod of pulsating vegetative flesh the color of rotting corpses surrounded by dozens of thick leafy appendages twisting limbs that whipped through the air like massive skittering spider legs covered in thorns and leaves, twisting and writhing in ways that chilled Eric to the bone. Nothing at all like the calmly glowing cluster of massive roots in the storm tunnels below the park, radiating a soothing aura he and his sister had come so close to embracing, just the day before.

Eric’s blood ran cold as the central trunk-like portion of the bulbous pod effortlessly absorbed the frantically struggling captives the chortling orcs so casually stuffed within its leafy orifice. The panicked victims shrieked as they kicked and bit and bucked with the desperate vigor of men and women knowing that their time was at an end as they were shoved into the vegetative horror. Yet their struggles and pleas did nothing but elicit fresh rounds of delighted chortles from the sadistic savages who derived so much pleasure from forcing their victims inside the massive pod. Eric shuddered at the sight of legs still twitching and jerking even when the victim’s heads were jammed into vegetative orifices, before going ramrod stiff as they were slurped the rest of the way in.

Eric was too frozen with horror to even look for the backup manhole that he knew was behind one of the alleyway dumpsters, and knew right then and there that he would never, ever be tempted to approach those half-buried roots again, no matter how invitingly the warm golden light, a light that was totally absent here, beckoned him on.

And after five endless minutes of breathless silence when Eric really should have been paying attention to his own environment, the pod spat out human-sized cocoons that immediately began writhing and twisting like nothing human ever should.

Eric already knew what it meant.

They both did.

Four Dog and Black Cat and every other midnight radio jockey daring the waves on AM frequencies that crystal sets could still pick up, had made it all too clear what it meant when the pods rejected potential candidates.

Everyone did. Even in cities far, far away from Gilton, where humans weren’t being corralled right into the vegetative horrors by invading orcs, the pods still only had a 10% survival rate at best. And of those, only a few gained an actual adventuring class that could power up. The rest were just grateful to survive with what would hopefully be a useful Profession or crafting class.

For everyone else, it was death. Though what happened after that, depended on the pod.

Some pods seemed to absorb the supplicant completely. Digesting them utterly.

Others spat out abominations worthy of a science fiction flick about the dangers of clone vats, revealing bags of flesh filled with mismatched organs, way too many disjointed arms whipping about like tentacles, and dozens of oversized eyes. Eyes blinking with hideous sentience before the warped creature that was human no longer finally expired.

Then there were the abominations left by pods like the ones in Gilton City.

Cocoons that within moments would burst open to reveal shambling horrors covered in whipping vines, giving off high-pitched moans from faces that now sprouted dozens of tiny tendrils whipping through the air, slowly making their way to the nearest pack of screaming humans.

Wild-eyed men and women who would have run for all they were worth, were not the majority of them roped and collared, before being sprayed with foul smelling vegetative rot Eric caught a whiff of even from where he and his sister hid, frozen in terror, as a towering nine-foot tall orc effortlessly decapitated not one but two of the shambling horrors with a single swing of his massive poleaxe.

A smaller orc chortling with laughter then bent down and grabbed the pair of now motionless vine-covered horrors and tossed them with equal ease into the fire pit. Seconds later, the air was awash with the sickly sweet stench of human flesh and char-grilled veggies.

Eric, frozen in a state beyond horror, could no longer deny that the haunches he saw a few orcs ravenously devouring while glaring at huddled pockets of humanity were the remains of those unfortunate souls who had failed to survive the pods, or had just been tossed in, pod issues aside, because the towering pig-faced horrors had simply craved some extra freshly charred man-meat.

A true barbecue from hell.

Yet Eric understood on some level that they had both needed to see for themselves the risks. To understand why he had to resist the siren call of that golden light, when they eventually maneuvered past the pod’s roots a second time.

They had needed this horrific glimpse of what it truly meant to be devoured by the pod to appreciate what a 90% plus mortality rate really met.

And now they had seen it firsthand. And more to the point, they now viscerally understood the hellish nightmare of slavery, slaughter, and despair that Gilton had become.

“Eric, come on! Help me with the dumpster. We have to get out of here. We have to get out of here right now!”

Eric immediately nodded, his sister sounding just as lost and frightened as he felt.

All he cared about now was getting safely back into the warm embrace of the tunnels they knew so well, and leaving the horror of this post-apocalyptic nightmare of a world just as fast as he possibly could. Even if they hadn’t slipped past any attempts at a rodent ambush which might have been nothing more than their own panic—and hadn’t he managed to kill all six of the bastards that had been harassing his sister?—He was now pretty damn certain he could just plow right through and kick aside any of those little bastards that had scared the shit out of Elonia, and maybe himself as well.

Compared to the horrors they had just witnessed, the far smaller sewer rats' significance as threats had weened from fearsome mugger to chittering annoyance that just needed a good smack. And the dark temptation to drink in the inviting golden light emitted by the roots of their own unorthodox access to the monstrous abomination blossoming in the heart of the ruined city was now utterly and completely quenched.

In fact, it was Eric’s absolute intent to pivot around and help his sister with the dumpster hiding an escape tunnel’s salvation, one that was far too narrow for any 8-foot, barrel-chested orc to slip through.

Only for some strange reason, he found himself stumbling to the ground, utterly disoriented, only registering the crack of a heavy wooden object smacking the back of his head long after it had happened. His blurry vision could barely take in a ragged looking low-life whose face was covered in acne scars, stubble, and hate. Cruel lips stretched wide in a rictus of a grin revealing blackened teeth as scrawny yet surprisingly powerful arms covered in sores and blisters a tattered leather jacket couldn’t quite hide furiously pounded Elonia’s struggling form with the duck-tape wrapped wooden club in his hands, roaring for all he was worth.

“I found escaped slaves! Over here! Fresh meat for the pods!”