[Balance: 1,306 standards]

Alexander sighed, rubbing his mouth. He used his Minor Healing Potion on Leona, and Damien did as well. A third so soon would risk potion sickness, but she needed to recover. She had lost a lot of blood, and teleportation had additional strain to her body.

As Alexander contemplated on methods to get more standards fast, an empty chip bag breezed against his leg. He kicked it away, letting it drift elsewhere. Wasn’t that the mood? While he could sit on a bench in the middle of a desolate city, thinking about how he could’ve gotten everyone out of System Articles sooner, could’ve avoided getting Leona stabbed, and maybe, had he played his cards right, could’ve gotten a few good toys out of it too—what was he thinking about again? Right, while he could do all of that, and he had, multiple times, he needed to get going.

He put his backpack on. He long since changed out of his tattered office attire, wearing what the Survival Kit had given him: a plain black t-shirt and dirty green cargo pants, plus plain black sneakers. Nothing to write home about, but better than fighting in tight clothes and dress shoes.

This part of Ordo was deserted. If Alexander didn’t know any better, then he’d think he walked into a horror movie set: empty streets, clothes on the ground, ominous blood splatters, and broken traffic lights and lamp-posts. Distantly, sirens wailed and explosions reverberated, and birds squawked. Alexander briskly made towards a corner-store with its door laying on the ground. The windows were broken; blood and some strange blue goo slathered the ledge. Didn’t want to touch that.

Alexander entered and saw a bell above the doorway. He reached up and physically ranged it. “Clerk,” he called, “I’m down on my luck.”

Blood and some strange goo slathered the shards, but he entered through the open entrance anyway, physically ringing the bell. “Clerk,” he called. “I’m down on my luck.”

“Aren’t we all?” Damien popped out from the cashier’s counter, putting a half-filled box of chocolate bars on top. His [Protector’s Stave] leaned against a wall filled with cigarette cartons and scratchers. The former all had images of smoke-tortured lungs and big red text about cancer or death.

Alexander leaned against the counter and saw a few scratchers scratched. He glanced at them. “You win anything?”

Damien shook his head. “No, do you want to try? As far as I can tell, I’m the new owner of whatever-this-store’s-name-is.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll take one of these though.” Alexander took one of the chocolates and helped himself. He checked his phone—it was at thirty-percent. “Half past eight. It's been three hours since the disaster began.” And a couple of hours since we left System Articles.

“Only three hours? God, it feels like a day.” Damien began stacking boxes of various candies and chips. “It’s eerie out there, Alex. It looks like everyone had an hour of excitement, now look at us. Scared and bored, trembling at every explosion.”

“No kidding. Luckily, us civilians are collateral. The real fights are at the Pillars.” Thankfully, Black Paladin Station was safe. Alexander had compiled a mental list of possible locations to teleport to: Ordo University, Julius High School, and Black Paladin Station were tied for first. Picking one was nothing more than a dice roll honestly. He knew Ordo University was probably under attack, and he had told Althea to get out of Julius High as soon as possible. So Black Paladin it was.

It was secured by a team belonging to Glory Guild: Team Luster, comprised of four Slayers: Montana, Hidden, Problem, and their leader, Jury.

Leona had survived thanks to their help. Alexander replayed the incident in his mind over and over, rewinding the seconds and pinpointing exactly when he could’ve taken a different path. But ruminating on regrets did no one any good, especially himself. Least she managed to wound Carn, hitting him with an unexpected attack. It was that skill: [The Durable Self].

The Durable Self

As long as steel touches not the ground, shall you stand ever durable and victorious. Whenever you endure a mortal wound, you may counter with a killing blow.

This skill can only be used once per month.

Sometimes, the effect differed from the wording. For an E-Rank like Leona, who had used it on an A-Rank, it resulted in a traumatic blow rather than a killing one—shame. It was highly likely that Carn was blinded, but considering his Constitution, his vision might be permanently impaired instead. That was, however, Leona’s plan all along: using herself to take Carn out. Didn’t work, nearly took herself out actually, and it gave Alexander a heart attack. What a plan that was.

“Alex!” Damien suddenly exclaimed, waking Alexander up from his thoughts. Sounded like he was shouting his name for a while. “Good morning to you. Are you okay?”

Alexander looked at his right hand. He had broken a sink with that hand. He sighed, taking another bite of his chocolate. “As okay as I can be, I guess.”

“It’s about Leo, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, no shit it’s about Leo, I—” He groaned. “I don’t know, Thea will kill me when she finds out about what happened. She really loves her, you know—”

“Alex—”

“What? I’m telling the truth: she does. She’s too much of a brat to say it, but yeah, whenever Leo’s around, her eyes sort of go…” Alexander tried to mimic the action. He opened his eyes as wide as he could like a demented psychopath. “...Like that. They turn on like that.”

Damien confusedly tilted his head. “Like a psychopath?”

“Exactly, like a psychopath—no, I mean like light-bulbs. I was trying to do light-bulbs. Her eyes turn on like light-bulbs?”

“You need to get better at charades,” Damien said.

“Yeah alright.” Alexander ate the rest of his chocolate, crumpling the wrapper in his hands. “Jesus though, it’s been, what, three years since I met her? Met Leo, I mean.”

“Time goes by fast,” said Damien as he stuffed the snacks into his backpack. “Do you still think she’s a ‘stubborn bitch’?”

Alexander threw the candy wrapper at Damien. It didn’t fly an inch before diverting sharply to the left and crashing to the ground. That was disappointing. After Damien had his laugh, Alexander rolled his eyes and continued, “We were both stubborn people, what did you expect? I thought she was some rich princess who wanted me to do all the work. She thought I was an asshole.“

Damien smirked. “Was?”

“Oh, shut up. You’re a prince, Vernon’s a prince too, and I knew several others in High Home. Honestly, I…” Alexander returned to three years ago, where an old man paired him with the daughter of Hwaseong Heavens. Honestly, it was as much of a random chance as with Juna in High Home, though things didn’t quite work out with her. “I’m glad Althea met her.”

“You’re glad that she met Leo?”

“Alright smartass. Look, we…” Alexander held his hand up to emphasize a thought, and it had left him, suddenly, leaving a surprise in its absence, and returned nothing but old scars. “I don’t know. I don’t know.” And his sleeves rolled down, exposing his hands. Scars had marked the back of his hands, made dark circles of his knuckles, and made unattractive things of his flesh. Leona had said he had strong hands.

Damien furthered, “You don’t know?”

“What? Leo’s…” Alexander paused. “...Leo’s too sweet. She’s the kind of person who makes you believe in humanity again.”

“I see.” Damien rubbed his chin mockingly, feigning contemplation, and began putting boxes of meatsticks into his backpack. “I see, I definitely see.”

Alexander leaned over the counter seeing if he could grab Damien. He could, he definitely could. “You trying to give me another headache?”

“Are you trying to kill me again, Alex? Face it, you’re the only person who can stand me. Or alternatively, I’m the only person who can stand you. Either way, look at us now: best friends forever. We should get bracelets. Actually…” Damien hustled to the far corner of the counter where a small, standing rack held cheap souvenir bracelets. He shook them, implying.

“No.”

“Fine.” Heartbroken, Damien shambled back to his original duty. “I’m honestly curious: who’s more annoying? Me, or Leo—”

“You,” Alexander sputtered out, almost laughing.

“You don’t have to laugh!”

“I’m serious. Leo can be annoying, especially with Thea. They have a comedy routine going on. Every time Leo visits, the show’s on to an audience of no one. They got the set-ups, the punchlines, the props, and their favorite butt of all jokes: me. But you? You’re the entire ass.”

Damien laughed. At the very least, Alexander couldn’t accuse him of being soft-skinned; he never took his jabs seriously. “Sometimes, you make me jealous. Other times, I feel sorry for you. Other other times, I think you’re quite possibly the dumbest man in the world—”

“Okay, fuck you—”

“No no, let me finish!” Damien pleaded as Alexander rolled his eyes. “Let me finish. You might be the dumbest man in the world, and it’s because of who you are. It’s obvious where your priorities lie.”

“Is that right?”

“I do. Right here.” Damien tapped his chest. “You’re a genuine person, Alex. I wish I had your heart. In System Articles, I would’ve pretended to follow Carn just to get some weapons then leave.”

His confession wasn’t surprising at all for Alexander; in fact, he had suspected it. “You’re a cold bastard, Damien.”

“I’m serious. I would’ve done that. You’re pragmatic, I’m pragmatic too, but between you and me, I’m not a warrior like you are. I’m not Alexander the Great but Damien the Wimpy. The Fayers aren’t as close as the Shens: I hardly talk to Latham and Phoebe, and much less to my parents, if at all.

“We’re both anomalies, Alex. The greatest difference between you and me though? You’re extraordinary, and you hate to admit it.”

Damien was like that: he was a perceptive son of a bitch. He was right. About the part of him being an anomaly. Like many people Alexander knew, Damien was also related to an important Slayer, Duskfire, as his eldest son. He had his own story, a story he didn’t feel like telling.

Alexander sighed, shaking his head. “If you can’t tell, Damien, being ‘extraordinary’ isn’t working out for me. I don’t know if Althea’s okay, don’t know if Vernon got himself killed yet, and I almost killed Leo myself. And I…!” He exhaled. “I almost died two hours ago, I might die two hours from now, but all I can do is fight. That’s all I know.”

“Mhm.” Damien stopped packing, staring outside. Alexander did as well. No threats. No bodies. They were just staring, watching how the meek wind sweep plastic rags across the streets.

“Your uhm, your family is in New York, right?” asked Alexander after a good bit. “You mentioned Latham and Phoebe earlier. What do you think they’re doing right now?”

“I imagine Latham’s side-by-side with Dad as we speak. Maybe they’re busy dealing with the Cosmic Beast in space, who knows. Like I said, we don’t compare to the Shens,” he answered with such detachment as if he didn’t care about his family at all. Alexander decided to not pursue the conversation any further, though he wanted to. Damien simply did not look interested in talking about it. He’d divert the topic anyway.

“Well…” Alexander readjusted his backpack, shifting the weight to a more comfortable position. “I already raided the pharmacy and cleared the roads. Let’s hurry back to Black Paladin.”

Damien nodded. “Alright.”

***

Black Paladin Station had given the refugees safety from the false, eternal night and down into an artificial day still brimming with bright advertisements and eye-soring lights. There was a hollowness to the metro: the speakers were silent, and no one had heard a train in hours. Civilians lined the white-tiled corridors, sitting on their jackets and blankets, dressed from casual to formal, composed to crying, from praying and banging their fists against the walls, desperately on their phones or had given up entirely. Some, however, were restless, unable to stay still, so they did odd things like neatly packing their items or count the tiles on the walls or stare at the clocks. One man, which Alexander considered to be a complete lost cause, was touring around the station with his phone out and one of those vlog-sticks.

This was a horrible time to get some internet clout but alright then.

A few Pseudos were patrolling the halls as Team Luster had assigned them. Alexander and Damien exchanged brisk nods, acknowledging a job well done. When Black Paladin Station was secured, Luster needed supplies, particularly medical supplies, to take care of the injured. Though only a few had the courage to venture top-side; two of which were Alexander and Damien.

Alexander and Damien navigated to a shelter that Team Luster had prepared: a station with makeshift cots for the wounded and the weary. It was mostly populated with children and the elderly, those whose hearts could not handle the stress. The supplies they gathered wouldn’t nearly be enough to sustain everyone, but it’d provide some relief before the Army arrived.

One of Luster’s was at the shelter, speaking to a couple of kids who looked to be siblings. Of the four, she was the most sociable. Had a pretty smile that’d make you forget she had two curved daggers at her sides, and she was easy on the eyes. Incredibly easy. She wore a white and navy bodysuit, and it made sure every curve of hers was shown. She brushed aside locks of her maroon hair and revealed her confident gray eyes. That was Hidden.

“Hidden!” called Alexander, taking off his backpack and wagged it around. He had to call again to get Hidden’s attention; briefly, she said something to the kids and rushed over.

“Mission well-done, I take it?” Hidden asked cheerfully, having an undying optimism, as she took his backpack and Damien’s. She weighed them. “Oh, these are pretty full. We’ll definitely lift some spirits with these.”

Damien hummed. “My bag is filled with snacks while Alex raided a pharmacy.”

“Yeah, got gauze, painkillers, disinfectant, stuff like that. Oh, women’s hygiene too, that stuff usually goes unnoticed in times like these,” Alexander said. Damien raised an eyebrow. “What? Do you want a tampon?”

Hidden giggled. “Well, thank you for thinking that far. Not everyone was willing to go outside like you two had. How was it?”

“Quiet,” explained Damien. “Nothing happened, which makes it more terrifying. I—”

“Was there anything of note?” asked another, but their voice was distorted, purposefully, by a voice modulator. From behind, a short, floating figure entered the conversation wearing a large black ritualist’s cloak. Their hood obscured their face, leaving only red dots for eyes—Problem, the team’s smartass.

“Nice to finally help, Problem,” snarked Hidden. “Did you finish up with whatever Jury wanted?”

“I have.” They glanced at the men. “Considering you’re both silent, I have to assume that you found absolutely nothing but…?”

“Chocolate bars and tampons,” answered Alexander.

“I thought ‘corpses and monsters’, but I guess that works just as well. Regardless, it’s actually works out in my favor. Duskfire’s kid—”

“Damien.”

“Whatever, we’re about to hold a meeting about Black Paladin Station within the hour, so I’m putting you on messenger duty. Go and tell the rest of the Pseudos.”

“Why me?” he asked, annoyed. “Why not you?”

“Because I’m enjoying my position of power over a Pseudo like yourself,” Problem said while Hidden looked disappointed.

She accused, “You’re pawning your duties off to Damien, aren’t you?”

Problem nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“Okay, why not Alex?”

“Leave me out of this, messenger,” Alexander said.

“Well,” Problem began, “I’ve been told that Leona Ahn is awake and conscious.”

Alexander’s heart did a peculiar motion of dropping and rising.

Problem continued, “That’s why I assigned your friend here and not you. He doesn’t have a girlfriend—” (“Why is it always me?”) “—though, exactly for that reason, I’m not envious of you. Good luck, Shen. I’m a ritualist, not an expert on love.”

Hidden said, “How about you help me distribute the supplies then, Problem? Since you’re not doing anything important right now.”

“I’d rather not—”

And they bickered, while Alexander had to finally face the music.