12th-floor meeting room, Bank of America Plaza, Downtown Atlanta, Fulton County, Georgia. Wednesday, October 23th, 2019. 9:00

The Connector, the heart of Atlanta's highway network where two arterial interstate highways intersected, got a heart of its own. It beat with evil energy, gathering the dead and preparing to evolve.

The whole city was in disarray. The survivors didn't mind the stench of rotting dead bodies anymore, their focus only on surviving another day. Martha and Ted spent most of their time scavenging for food among destroyed buildings and dodging gang patrols. Without law, a group of survivors decided they would take over the ruins of the city and bring everyone else under their thumb. Another group of survivors was fighting against the gang, and gunshots were the only thing breaking the sepulchral silence of the destroyed metropolis. The dead, as usual, were silent.

The ruffians were losing, a fact that emboldened Martha and Ted to venture further into the sea of rubble to find supplies. The two friends got bags of canned food from a grocery store back to the Bank of America Plaza. They ate it cold, watching the Connector below.

"Ted, look at that! Right in the middle of the Connector. Do you see something pulsing in the shadow?" Martha asked.

Crashed cars and trucks formed a grotesque art installation all over the intertwined elevated concrete roads, some of them impossibly dangling or entwining like vines forming metal bridges spanning the gaps between the overpasses. They cast an impossible shadow into the heart of the arterial highway intersection.

Ted squinted and followed the woman's finger. He could see something moving over the twisted metal but focused on the dark core of the Connector. After long seconds of internal debate trying to figure out if Martha had gone completely crazy, he finally saw a faint reddish-purple glow and a pulse coming from inside.

"Damn, you're right."

"There are some people going there too. They don't seem to be gang members. What are these guys at the back carrying?"

Ted fetched his binoculars. "They're all well-armed, but those in the back are hauling an electrical generator, some reinforced cases for equipment, and Jerry cans."

"I wish I could charge my phone," Martha complained under her breath.

The group of survivors, twenty people strong, seemed to be having an argument. The armed half of them pointed at the Connector, while the rest looked at the skyscraper. They split in two, each going their way.

"I think they're coming here," Ted commented.

"Not much we can do about that," Martha shrugged but her face betrayed her true emotions. She was excited to meet normal people after all these days. "I doubt they'll find their way inside. Nobody knows the garage trick and it took us a long time to figure it out."

"They have climbing gear," Ted added with a smirk.

"Well, crap," Martha grinned. "We have no choice now but to meet them!" She finished with a squeal.

The two weren't much worried. They had only brief contact with a few other survivors who were happy to keep their distance. Aside from the gang of thugs that banded together with dreams of conquest, they all seemed good people. So, instead of trying to hide, they watched the group heading to the Connector.

*

*

Library, Clayton State University, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia. Wednesday, October 23th, 2019. 7:00

After a half-hour gym session and a bath, she went to the library.

Sara assigned her two points from the librarian to Brawn. She was tired of wearing bandages on her face and arms. More damage resistance sounded nice.

Despite her compulsion to go back to the Appleby residence, Sara passed yet another night at the university. She had a goal in mind. The manga, light novel, and young adult sections of the library had a lot of inspiration for things she could add to the System. She took piles of comics and pocketbooks from the shelves and started reading.

The generic Japanese isekai had little to add, but she found one interesting thing in a manga called "Death March." In the comic, the protagonist could store scans of books and other written material and make annotations on them.

"Abby, this notepad you made, can you do this?" She pointed at a page on the comic. "Store books I've read, and let me make annotations?"

"Isn't that a lot?"

"Okay then, let's get it started. Following on Gutenberg's first steps, the first book we shall usher into this new age shall be the Bible!" Sara declared. Briefly meant just a glance. By the time she'd flipped a page, Abby had already saved the snapshot, using her eyes as a kind of camera. She then added all the interesting books and comics she browsed to find nice features.

"We could make a weekly quest for the users," Sara suggested. "Like, read a new book, gain five bucks. The System saves a scan of the book, regardless of whether the user has unlocked this feature or not. This way, our library will only grow and lost books won't become a thing. We can even add a random prize and hide the fact that we'll reward users that add a book we don't have yet."

That was one of the uses of the "System Account" money she intended to set apart. Promote certain kinds of behavior that she thought would be beneficial for the System and humanity as a whole.

"Maybe we can also have a kind of repository for people to post their own fiction. Like some websites did back in the day. I remember the guys mentioning they surfed one, 'Scribble'-something [1]. We're going to recreate the Web using magic, eventually," Sara smiled at the thought.

With no further ideas to add to the System, she went back to quickly browsing books.

In an English young adult novel, "Light Online", she found another interesting trait. In the book, the craftsmen could see a holographic rendering of where should each building block or part should go when creating an item or building a structure.

"This blueprint visualization sounds interesting. It shows people where everything should go, I think it would be nice for crafters. Can we do that too?"

"What about showing imperfections in their products? Like kinks in a blade, or something like that?"

"Like an active Skill?"

"Can it show them flaws in already existing objects? Like when a wire has snapped inside a power cord?"

"Busted capacitors, damage in electronic circuits?"

"Visualization for magical diagrams?"

"Highlight items on a shelf that match a particular recipe? Help guys with male pattern blindness? Or help women with depth perception?"

Sara thought that would be a nice ability for almost everyone, from crafters and mages to have.

"Oh, I haven't thought of that one. Let's search for more stuff to add."

She spent the entire morning browsing books and comics for inspiration. For Sara, adding those Skills to the Classes meant supporting people would become cheaper since these "System Aid" Skills she was creating required very little effort on the System part. In her mind, it was a win-win situation. The people would have a broader range of Skills to pick up, and the System would save energy. She would pair each of them with a "half-Skill", a reduced practical benefit to match.

Also, she could get all of these special abilities for free. The thought of having those enhanced abilities excited her.

[1] MDW: I felt it odd to promote the only site authorized to host this chapter. If you read this anywhere else than www.royalroad.com, this novel has been pirated.

*

*

The Connector, Downtown Atlanta, Fulton County, Georgia. Wednesday, October 23th, 2019. 9:10

"I told you. The place is infested with zombies," A survivor said as he pointed at the moving corpses among the ruined vehicles.

"Seems like good target practice to me," another joked. "Aim for the heads, don't get bitten!"

The group of seven people took aim and shot at the heads of the undead. The slow-moving ghouls were indeed easy targets and the heads popped like bloody balloons. Moments later, the attackers' flesh was ripped apart by invisible wraiths.

*

*

12th-floor meeting room, Bank of America Plaza, Downtown Atlanta, Fulton County, Georgia. Wednesday, October 23th, 2019. 9:15

"What the hell!" Ted gagged and retched as he almost threw the binoculars down. Martha rushed to support him and keep the precious tool from breaking.

"I've seen little from here, but they are all dead, aren't they?" Martha tittered. The young woman oozed concern and fear.

"They got sliced out of nowhere. It was... I... I don't wanna talk about it." Ted shook his head and gagged.

"I told you! That place is evil, I can feel it. Every time I look at one of the speedways, I feel cold and angst and death. Something evil is drawing and gathering there."

"I believe you now," Ted pointed at the Connector below. "That's the heart of darkness, it crawled straight out of Satan's butt. I'd be glad if I don't have to look at it again."

"That's a deal," Martha smiled.

They heard gunshots, and the building windows shook. Martha rushed to a side window and peeked down.

"They broke some windows, and are climbing inside. Another group of survivors brought a fire engine, the one with a large ladder."

"Wish I had thought of that," Ted quipped. "They're skipping the basement garage parkour."

"We should greet them. Better than startling them after they came into the building."

Ted approached the open window. He put his head and an arm outside, and turned on a flashlight, pointing it at the people below. "Hey, we're up here! Welcome!" He shouted.

Martha half-expected the survivors underneath to shoot them. Instead, they waved back, some of the women with them jumping excitedly at the prospect of meeting more people. Everyone longed for human connections. Everyone that's still sane, that is.

*

*

Rooftop, Bank of America Plaza, Downtown Atlanta, Fulton County, Georgia. Wednesday, October 23th, 2019. 11:00

Martha didn't expect to have the energy to climb all the fifty-a-lot floors today. Yet, they talked all the way up and it was super fun, she felt recharged instead of tired. She felt on the clouds, underneath the steel pyramid, with a bunch of new people. The newcomers were going around the railing, looking at the ruins of Atlanta under the late afternoon sun.

Everyone was in a really good mood, but maybe because they didn't tell the fate of those that went to the Connector. She didn't want to be the one to say the bad news so she shelved the issue. People were so energetic, they even dragged a folding table and chairs all the way up here!

The sound of a motor starting and chugging gasoline broke her out of her musings. The survivors cheered and started assembling the equipment they brought. One of them, hooked to a rope, climbed the obelisk to install an antenna, and after a few minutes, they managed to get a ham radio working.

They called on several frequencies but only heard static. Then, a voice came over.

"This is Brett with the Forest Park PD, glad to hear you, brothers and sisters!"

"We're on the Bank of America Plaza rooftop! How are things there in the 'green belt'?" The radio operator asked.

"Pleased to meet someone alive," Brett answered. "What's a green belt?"

"You might not have noticed, but everywhere else is destroyed except for your little township," The operator said with no little envy.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm going to call the boss, stay on this frequency."

The survivors cheered and opened beer bottles to celebrate finally contacting someone outside the city. The feeling of not being alone was contagious and even Martha joined in, though she refused to drink alcohol. Dragged into a conversation by the other women, she missed part of the conversation over the radio. Only hearing her surname in a very familiar voice made her rush to the radio.

"Wait!" Martha shouted as she rushed past the survivors and slammed into the table, almost dropping the radio. "Did you say 'Hainsworth'?"

The surprised radio operator looked at her. "Yes. That's the guy on the other side."

Martha fell to her knees, weeping in joy. She reached for the headphones. "Give me that! It's my father!" She took the mouthpiece in her hand and pressed the button.

"This is Crystal white six speaking. Daredevil black six, do you read?" She stuttered on the radio, using the callsign she gave her father.

"I read you loud and clear, Crystal white six!" Hainsworth gushed on the other side. Martha started to sob. "Daredevil black six here. Crystal white six, what is your status!"

A chance rarer than one in a million. Two family members were alive. Father and daughter spoke for the first time since Armageddon. Many survivors cheered and cooed at the touching moment. Ted put his hand on Martha's back to show his support.

"Crystal company has no casualties, repeat, crystal company has no casualties. We are low on rations but we're going by. Daredevil black six, what's your status?"

*

*

Administration meeting room lobby, Clayton State University, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia. Wednesday, October 23th, 2019. 13:00

After a way less exciting lunch as compared to yesterday's, the girl was sucked into a meeting with the survivor leadership. Kelly stuck to her side like it was the woman's god-given job to keep Sara safe. At least those were the vibes she got from the college student. Every time Sara stopped to think about how close Kelly could get to her without causing her discomfort, she wondered if the woman too didn't have any supernatural powers.

The door to the meeting room opened. Trevor peeked out. "Sara, they are ready to talk to you."

With a groan on her throat and Kelly holding onto her arm, the girl entered the room. Trevor notwithstanding, she found Keynes, Brett, Hainsworth, and Patricia.

"Thank you for taking your time to meet us, Sara," the military officer said. She noticed Hainsworth was in a very good mood and wondered what that was about. His gaze was still piercing and made her uncomfortable.

Sara just nodded and chewed on her lower lip, clearly bothered by being gang-pressed into attending. She wished she had loaded the Silverado and driven away instead. Now she would have to spend yet another night at the university. At least they had a good library.

"Well, I feel we should go straight to the point," Keynes suggested to the boss-man, drawing a slight nod from the girl.

"Very well, Winston. Sara, we would like you to share what you know about the undead. We are cordoned off by the highways on all sides, and our people reported all of them are the same. Crashed cars impossibly piled up as far as the eye can see, and roaming undead. We managed to secure a single opening, the overpass on Jonesboro, but at the cost of fourteen lives. That's unacceptable."

"What Hainsworth is trying to say," Keynes played the good cop part, "is that we need to reach downtown Atlanta. Earlier this afternoon, we contacted other survivors. They need help and—"

Before Keynes could share sensitive information, Hainsworth interrupted with a harumph. "The city is in ruins, and the survivors over there are running low on supplies," the military man explained. "We need to find a way to bridge the interstate seventy-five to the Northwest."

"Just to be sure, you were in the military, right?" Sara asked him. "I guess you were an officer, from the way you walk and talk."

Hainsworth seemed angry at her allegations for a moment, before he calmed down. "Back in the day, I held the rank of Major. No. I still do."

"Don't you have helicopters in the fort? Why don't you fly over and get them? Can't a Black Hawk carry like, a dozen full-geared soldiers?"

Major Hainsworth shook his head. "We don't have a pilot. Helicopters are extremely difficult to fly and require a lot of coordination. A few of us, myself and Brett included tried, but we could barely get it off the ground, much less fly safely and land in the ruined city and back," he let his shoulders slump. "It will take months before anyone can learn to fly one of those birds."

This was not a Hollywood movie. Several critical skills had just vanished along with everyone who knew them.

"And that is with a flight simulator, manuals, and flight instruction videos we found at fort Gillem," Brett added, more than dismayed. "You need to use both arms, both feet, and fingers, and it requires a lot of sensitivity to get the feel and make the bird move straight. I have serious respect for helicopter pilots now."

"We will keep training and trying, as long as we have fuel," Keynes joined in. "But it will take months to train a pilot. Maybe years. Months the people trapped in the city ruins don't have."

"What about carrier drones? Do you have these?" Sara asked.

"We have some drones, but none able to carry a person. Even if we did, it was too dangerous."

"Set a zipline over the interstate?"

"Too far away and no tall buildings nearby," Hainsworth said with a head shake. "It's too close to the airport and building height was quite limited by the zoning codes.

"Tunneling? No, sorry," Sara cringed. "Just brainstorming here."

"We were hoping you could help us clean another passage," Hainsworth pleaded. Sara could tell Atlanta held something he really wanted. Maybe someone.

Dismayed, Sara shook her head. "I hope you have a plan B, because nobody is crossing the interstate on foot before Spring. Again, I advise everyone to stay the hell away from there. Something evil brews underneath the asphalt, and it's not the undead. I don't know the details enough, though."

"We do have a plan B," Brett said before Hainsworth could. "Drones can't carry people, but we'll use them to deliver supplies. We'll send them some food tomorrow."

The Major didn't like that. His stance shifted a bit, becoming more assertive. "But you can kill the undead, can't you?" Hainsworth asked.

Sara felt no need to hide it. "I did it only once. It was so taxing I passed out after smashing a newborn one. A pack of them? Where they are the strongest? Not happening."

Hainsworth didn't like Sara's answer. A scowl formed on his face and he blushed as he became emotional. "Winter is coming and there's another gang of thugs downtown! They are going to freeze if we don't help them!" The Major slammed the table, his breathing irregular. His fists shook with frustration and anger.

Sara stood up, pushing her chair back. To her, the military officer was someone to avoid. "Send clothes, send firewood, food, medicine, whatever they need to stay alive. Some stuff doesn't even need to be flown, just catapult bundles of timbers over the highway. The city is called Forest Park, for crying out loud," she mentioned the wrong city, "chop down some trees, we got more of them than anywhere in the world, I guarantee it to you. But I'm not taking this extermination suicide task. Fourteen people died to clear the way to Costco, and that was on easy mode. I am helping all I can, believe me. What you asked is impossible. And I'm out."

As she moved to leave the room, she saw Keynes holding Hainsworth back by grabbing the man's wrist. Sara decided, for good this time, that she wouldn't be joining these survivors.

*

*

Parking lot C, Clayton State University, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia. Wednesday, October 23th, 2019. 15:30

Sara stormed down the campus with her emotions in disarray. She loaded her Silverado but Kelly caught up to her before she could get on the truck and leave. The woman hugged her from behind. Kelly's superpower of ignoring personal spaces subdued Sara's rejection.

"Let go, Kelly," Sara grumbled. Her rejection was only subdued, not suppressed.

The cheerful woman didn't oblige. "I'm sorry for what happened in there. I couldn't even say anything. I don't know what happened to Hainsworth. He wasn't his usual self."

"Maybe he was masquerading all the time, and now he's showing his true colors. Anyway, that man is dangerous," Sara conjectured, then remarked bitterly: "There's something downtown he wants at any cost. I don't trust him. Sorry, Kelly. I can't stay here."

Still holding Sara's shoulders, Kelly spun around to face the girl. "You're not leaving. Not like this. I know you have this lone wolf act well-rehearsed, but it's not happening."

Kelly sounded somewhere between a mother and a lover. Her concern was genuine nonetheless. Sara could see in the woman's eyes, sense it in her voice. And what a voice at that. She was sure Kelly could win any talent show with that alone.

Sara felt the dam holding her emotions would break if the congenial musician prodded a bit harder. She was shaking. It was the weight of the responsibility she assumed when she took in Abby's gem. The sadness for the loss of so much life. The sad stories of the ghosts she helped. The animosity of these survivors. She was a girl with thick skin but she was at her limit. Hainsworth's outburst might become the straw that broke the camel's back.

Kelly kissed her forehead. "I know exactly what you need. Come to my place, I'm going to give you a surprise! My treat. Tomorrow, we'll go on an adventure. Far away from angry pushy men. How does that sound?"

Sara snorted, an ounce of mirth going a long way to stabilize her mood. "You seem like you're asking me on a date."

"No, I'm not," Kelly deadpanned but her voice wavered.

*

*

Parking lot C, Clayton State University, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia. Wednesday, October 23th, 2019. 15:40

Before they could cross the road to reach the dorms, a truck pulled in, with two guys hollering. The men locked eyes with the two and pulled over next to them.

"Hey, Kelly!" One of them said as he jumped off the truck and climbed on the back. "You won't believe what we found!"

It must've been the secret to restarting the internet to be that exciting, Sara thought.

"What is it?" Kelly clapped her hands with the same enthusiasm like a kid on Christmas morning.

"We went to an Amazon Fulfillment Center today," the driver said as he deftly moved from the cabin to the truck bed. "And we found crates of iPhones eleven! Brand new!"

The device had been released half a month before the world ended. The guns lifted one of the many cardboard boxes with the bitten fruit symbol. One of them was already opened, and they produced several of the treasured white boxes from within.

"You get an iPhone! You get an iPhone!" They cheered as they tossed a box to each woman. "Everyone gets a dozen iPhones!"

Sara looked at the box in her hand. It was something so out of her reach, but now they had a pile of them.

"Great," Kelly chirped.

But something was off. She remembered one tidbit about the fruit devices from her felon days back in Seattle. Apple devices were a pain to fence. Many times, the device became unusable if the victim was smart and locked the device via the cloud and/or blocked the phone IMEI code. Most often, they were scrapped and sold as repair parts.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news but how are we activating these? Don't they need to connect to the mothership back in California? Via, you know, the internet? We can't even get signal, much less reach the West Coast."

The guys deflated like popped balloons. "Seriously?" One of them whined.

"Look, Brett can give it a look! Maybe he knows how to turn them on!" He's at the administration.

*

*

Kelly's dormitory apartment, Clayton State University, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia. Wednesday, October 23th, 2019. 16:10

The dorms were outside the campus, on the other side of the parkway. The two crossed the dead street and parking lot on foot, reaching one of the three-floor apartment buildings. Most survivors lived here.

"Here's my place," Kelly introduced and flipped the lights on. "There are vacant apartments everywhere, I can show you some. Most of them are cleaned up already. We have a generator running and some guys hooked us to the solar panels on the Atlanta archives next door."

They entered Kelly's apartment. It was decorated in shades of lavender. Sara felt it was very calming and welcoming.

"It's gorgeous," the girl honestly commented. "And you get all of this to yourself!"

Sara realized her mistake too late.

"I used to have three roommates," Kelly said wistfully, "But they no longer live here, regrettably. You'd love them."

Meaning they died during Armageddon. Sara nodded. "So, what's this surprise you have for me?"

Kelly smiled like the cat who ate a bird, "Sit there on the couch. I'm going to get it." The student returned with a trolley full of cosmetics. "I decided you need some makeup to cheer you up!" She announced.

That was one skill Sara was lacking. Aside from the very basics, she never put on much makeup. The stuff on Kelly's trolley seemed top-notch, with very expensive brands on display. "Is that okay?"

"More than okay," Kelly squealed, "It's mandatory! You're getting a full makeover! Do you want me to trim your hair? Do your nails? A massage? I'll do all of that!"

Sara complied even though she wanted to run away. She gave the makeup on display a good look-over, sighing as she remembered she never had anyone doing her makeup. She bent her head back as she locked eyes with Kelly.

"I'm sorry for being such a bitch. Things are... not good."

Kelly grinned and pinched Sara's cheeks, "I totally understand and won't hold it against you. The world has ended, people died, zombies roam the interstate, and we are all sad. Worried."

The woman's mask broke for a moment. Tears formed in Kelly's eyes. "I try, Sara. I try to be bubbly and cheerful and keep people's spirits up. But I wish I could cross north and go home. See if my parents..."

The college student sniffled and dabbed the corner of her eyes with a tissue. Kelly's selflessness earned her major respect points in Sara's book. The girl's eyes became moist too. Kelly shoved her sadness and grief in whatever pit she used to hide those and smiled again as if nothing had happened.

"But come on, I am sure you'll cheer up once you are looking like a princess! Which one is your favorite?" Sara assumed she was talking about Disney Princesses. She raised an eyebrow but before she could answer, Kelly gently pushed her head back up. "I bet it's Merida. We can try to get you a red wig. It has to be a dark red, though."

She thought to herself that Merida was fine but said nothing. They both were a bit too old to be talking about Disney Princesses. "I'll pass on the wig," Maybe a makeover was the thing to ease her anxieties and she relaxed as Kelly worked on her body. The college girl proved to be a skilled beautician and makeup artist.

*

*

Kelly's dormitory apartment, Clayton State University, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia.Wednesday, October 23th, 2019. 19:10

Kelly not only did Sara's makeup but also waxed her undesirable hairs, and did a full manicure and pedicure, haircut, and the promised massage. The girl felt relaxed, floaty, and something she hadn't felt for ages. Proud.

The living room was a mess. Makeup and lose strands of hair were everywhere. The neatly organized trolley was organized no more.

"Done! You may look at the mirror!" Kelly squealed.

Sara couldn't believe how pretty and more mature she looked. The teenager grinned as she admired her own reflection. She was wearing borrowed clothes from one of Kelly's dead roommates.

"See?" An exhilarating and victorious Kelly gushed and threw her arms over Sara's shoulder. "You are so pretty, Sara! I wish I had your long neck and slender legs. Makes me wonder what happened to all that chocolate! Where did it go?"

Kelly did try to find the chocolate during the massage session, Sara remembered. The woman patted Sara's hips once more, trying to find some fat.

"Don't make a girl say it!" Sara protested as she playfully swatted Kelly's probing hands away. "It tickles!"

They both giggled.

"You need to take better care of yourself now! No more standing in exploding buildings, you hear me!"

More giggles. "So long we don't run into more suicidal cops doing Hollywood stunts," Sara compromised.

"Yeah, Keynes told me all about that. What was that black stuff? Camouflage? Skin treatment, maybe?"

Sara cringed, "It's... complicated."

Kelly offered a sympathetic nod, "If you don't want to tell, that's fine."

The girl thought she was in a tough spot. She had magic, but it only made her stronger and faster. Nobody could see the glow of her imbued strikes but herself. She could lift the couch or maybe try to bend a metal piece. She doubted it would work.

"I want to, but I don't think anyone would believe it. I don't want to sound like a nut case."

"It's fine," Kelly crooned. "Take your time."

They made small talk until it was time for Sara to go to bed. The girl declined the offer of using one of the bedrooms and went back to the campus.

*

*

Mr. Brown's classroom-apartment, Clayton State University, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia. Thursday, October 24th, 2019. 0:10

Alas, she didn't get to drive away on her Silverado with all the loot from the supermarket.

Emotionally exhausted by all the interaction she had after two weeks of solitude, she crashed like a log on the chocolate-stained makeshift bed, telling herself that there was nothing wrong with having two residences. She would usually sleep like a log.

But tonight, the girl stirred in bed as something disturbed her sleep. Sara woke up covered in sweat and out of breath. Something was terribly wrong and it wasn't the dinner she ate. With Abby metaphysically located at the base of her esophagus, food poisoning was something she'd have to try very hard to get.

*

*

Mr. Brown's classroom-apartment, Clayton State University, Morrow, Clayton County, Georgia. Thursday, October 24th, 2019. 3:30

> You gained 1 point of Core Strength.

> You gained 2 free Skill Points.

Sara jumped on her feet with the now-familiar words floating in her field of view. "Brawn, again," she chose where to spend her free points. "Abby, talk to me. What happened?" She asked her System Core.

Several. Not one, not a couple, not a few. Several deaths. The girl shivered. What was going on? Were they under attack? Abby denied it, hinting at suicide.

Sara changed into jeans and a jacket. Her go-to backpack was ready with whatever she needed to spend a day out. Attaching a pistol and knife to her belt and a flashlight she made sure had fresh batteries, she slipped out of her apartment.

"Directions?"

She made her way across the bridge over Lake Swan and, following Abby's directions, reached the indoor Olympic swimming pool.

Sara peeked inside. A thick and unnatural mist covered the whole room, almost hiding the water. The air felt damp and chill, despite the heated swimming pool. It was like it was sapping the very life out of the girl's body. She went inside, disappearing into the mist.

Well aware of what to expect, she couldn't hold back a short scream of fright. She was used to seeing decomposed dead people by now, but these were not only recently killed but also people she's seen around earlier. Her hand was shaking as she entered the place and counted the bodies. Twelve.

Wearing their normal clothes, they floated inside the swimming pool neither on the surface nor fully submerged. Blood seeped inside the water, painting it pink under the fluorescent light. Most bodies were restrained to the eight-lane by the rope float but one or two had already drifted into the next one from below. She saw blood splatters and droplets everywhere along one edge of the pool. As she went along searching for clues, Sara found a sharp knife covered in blood.

She went around and examined the bodies from afar. From what she could gather, they had cut their own wrists, then jumped in the water. Or something to that effect. The logistics of how they killed themselves were irrelevant compared to the tragedy before her eyes.

The girl fell to her knees when she found Andrew's mother among the dead.

"What is going on here?" A deep male voice asked.

Sara turned around and found Hainsworth glaring at her. She was feeling sleepy, tired, sad, vulnerable, and intimidated by him, but not angry despite their previous meeting.

"I buh-believe it was a collective suicide, sir," she stammered and tittered as she replied, pointing at the knife on the floor. "If we check the bodies, they'll all have cut wrists."

"Why are you here?" He asked, suspicious.

Sara rubbed her forearms for comfort. "Some noise woke me up," she lied. "I think I heard something, then I saw people coming this way. I had to change out of my pajamas and didn't arrive in time to stop... this."

"You have no blood on you. I doubt you'd be this clean if you participated in... that," Hainsworth dejectedly remarked.

Sara avoided eye contact with him. She felt rather stupid for rushing into what had become a crime scene. She could only imagine the madness that drove them to kill themselves. The despair suppressed their survival instincts and facilitated this collective suicide. She also remarked she was getting inured to sights of death, the initial surprise notwithstanding. With a combination of her experiences in this new reality and the Skills she earned, Sara was sure.

"We should fish the bodies and give them a proper burial," the man muttered, apparently disregarding Sara's presence.

He didn't seem to include her in that "we". Sara felt relieved that he bought her explanation. She didn't let her guard drop and moved out of the way as Hainsworth moved around the pool to reach the cleaning supplies closet on the far end. As she considered getting the hell out of there, she heard a woman's voice sing a nursery rhyme.

Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle,

The cow jumped over the moon,

The little dog laughed to see such sport,

And the dish ran away with the spoon.

Startled, she looked around, trying to find the source. She noticed Hainsworth kept walking around the pool and hadn't noticed the song. The girl immediately understood. A new ghost. She followed the voice and found the soul of one of the dead women, none other than "Smoking Woman" Andrew Wilson's mother. The ghost didn't bother to hide her sliced wrists as she crouched behind a rack of swimming training equipment. Sara glanced in Hainsworth's direction and saw him leaving the pool area and going inside the building.

"Hi, Sara," the woman greeted.

She felt guilty. Was it their exchange yesterday that pushed the woman over the edge? Or was this collective suicide already planned? Sara avoided looking at the nasty gashes on her wrists.

"Hello. I can't speak much, but tell me. What is your last request?"

The ghost started to cry. "I am sorry, Sara. I know I shouldn't have killed myself but I couldn't go on." She kept repeating, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Oh, my baby."

Something in Mrs. Wilson's tone put the girl on guard.

"No kidding," she said under her breath.

Sara knelt next to the ghost and placed a hand on her shoulder. It felt clammy and cold but also solid. If it weren't for the slight itching on her palm, she couldn't tell it was a ghost. But becoming material might be a sign she was slowly turning into a wraith or that she had a lot of magical power, like Catherine. The woman's despair was palpable.

"What keeps you bound to this mortal world?" Sara asked. "What can I do to help you move on?"

"My baby boy was going to Yale!" The ghost howled. "I couldn't live without my baby! I didn't deserve to live and enjoy a party while my baby is dead, rotting inside a car!"

"Can you tell where Andrew is?"

"Yes. He's on the highway, in my husband's car. He picked him up from Prep school downtown and was coming back home when the heavens and hell fell on us. I want you to bury my baby next to my body. You must!"

The woman's ghost was getting angrier. Sara felt bad for the woman but there was nothing she could do. Not anywhere near the interstate. The ghost was absorbed in her wails and lamentations.

"Do we need to kill her again?" She protested.

"If I must," Sara shook her head and drew her knife. The ghost of the bereaved mother didn't react. She used Mana infusion, making the knife blade glow with light only she could see.

This time, she could feel something burning down a path starting from her heart and into her right hand. Forget light, this was the worst heartburn she ever felt but it wasn't restricted to her chest. When this molten fire reached her hand, it condensed in her palm, then singed its way to the knife.

Abby ordered and she complied. A clean stab to the ghost's head.

> You gained 2 points in Mana Infusion.

> You gained 1 point of Core Strength.

The ghost shrieked for a moment, then vanished into the mist covering the swimming pool and the whole room.

Sara stood up and sheathed her knife, noticing a hand-shaped black spot on the handle where the energy flowed through. The middle of her palm was tender and itchy. The girl felt a little dizzy but this time she didn't faint. All she wanted was to go back to bed.

A voice made her shriek and jump.

"What is happening, Sara?" Hainsworth asked. He'd returned in time to see her putting her knife away.

"A rat ran away," she lied again. "I thought I could kill it."

"Rat, right," he nodded, obviously unconvinced. "Sara, can we talk outside?" The military man asked.

"Sure," She replied with an awkward grin, trying to hide her discomfort.

Sara shivered, feeling cold as she walked out of the damp building into the silent night. This was not a conversation she wished to have.