Under a dreary, grey winter sky, a trio of dishevelled figures is fighting to contain another figure, this one barely looking human. The three are bruised and dirty, their clothes sporting numerous stains and a few rips, but compared to their foe, they appear to be in pristine condition. That foe, though humanoid, looks far from human. Its clothes are nothing more than rags, barely hanging onto the gaunt frame, its hands have twisted into claws, fingernails elongated and thickened, and its skin has turned leatherlike while the hairs have turned into a grimy, tangled mess. And the sight that haunts the dreams of many survivors, the ghostly, azure flames that have replaced the eyes of those who were shattered, dimming and flaring as it fights with those who merely want to survive. It’s almost impossible to tell whether the creature used to be male or female, now, after the changes it has undergone, it is nothing but a Shattered husk of the person it used to be. The only thing it has left is aggression, the desire to rip those who withstood the change apart. And in turn, those who have survived are fighting back, scouring the city for supplies to carry back to their shelter.

Shelter, the place the lost souls have decided to call home, is the small bastion of light after the fires have swept the Earth. Created by a young woman who has spoken to the other survivors, telling them about the system that came with the change. She told of another world, of a chance given to the people by the Gods. Guidance, as she said, guidance to allow as many as possible to live through the times of change. A chance to avoid the purgatory of the Change. At first, her words fell on deaf ears, panic, grief and rage taking over, pushing people to their limits and beyond. But in the face of miracles, however small they might be, people have started to see hope. Hope that the times of change will pass, hope that the world will go on. Hope, sanctuary and their fellow people, that is what everyone is fighting for. And that is why four young people ventured out, clad in little more than their dirty clothes, armed with what little equipment has been salvaged. Fireaxes, clubs, kitchen knives, whatever was handy, whatever could be used. Hunting for supplies and, if possible, hunting for the precious EXP, the currency that allows everyone to become more than they are. To make their own miracles, thanks to the chance given to everyone by the Gods.

For EXP, people have to fight, even if the fight is dangerous. Especially if the fight is dangerous. And that is why three people, with the fourth acting as rearguard, scout and guard, are working together to fight a Shattered, despite the monster being stronger, faster and more durable than them. Fight, for a better tomorrow.

And so they fight, even as each swipe of those wicked claws forced one of them back, as each lunge made them frantically dodge aside, often rolling across the ground, earning more bruises and dirty clothes in the process. But compared to the alternative, compared to being ripped apart by the inhuman strength of the Shattered, bruises are a welcome payment.

“Stun incoming,” Arlan, the innately strongest of the three calls out, even as he pulls on that weird, nebulous sensation that has settled in his gut, ever since the blue flames swallowed the world. The next moment, he feels the warm mist flood through his arm, into the simple club, fashioned from a thick branch and wrapped with some cloth to provide a grip, making the club give off a soft, crimson glow. Heavy Blow, the system calls the skill, increasing the strength of the next attack and potentially stunning a foe, if the hit connects fully. Just like a dozen times before, Arlan leans into the swing, timing it so his attack strikes just after the Shattered tried to go for Jeff, the nimblest of the three. With a whistling sound, the club swipes through the air and even as the Shattered tries to dodge, connects heavily, sending the Shattered reeling. Not in pain, it seems that the creatures don’t feel that, but in a brief moment of stunned disorientation.

And just as they have planned, Kenny swoops in, taking full advantage of the opening. His fire axe connects with a meaty chunk, the sound more akin to hacking into wood than the soft flesh of another human. The strike smashes into the Shattered’s shoulder, the force enough to send it to the ground. And there, without any mercy for what was a human just a few days ago, the three pounce, to make sure that the Shattered will never rise again.

Hesitation has been beaten out of them, the brutal reality of the changed world is a simple one. If it has burning eyes, it has to die. Otherwise, it will tear you apart or it will tear your friends apart. If the Shattered don’t die, one of your comrades will get hurt.

Finally, the Shattered stops moving and the three fighters stumble backwards, sinking to the ground in exhaustion.

“I levelled,” Arlan crows, a proud smile on his face after the system told him that he has reached level six. The first of the four of them, making him one of the strongest people living in the Shelter. Only their leader, their unassuming Denmother who explained as much as possible about the system, has a higher level, thanks to the divine miracles she can call upon.

“Me too,” Jenny, their scout and rearguard, adds only to pause, staring towards a nearby alley.

“Guys, get up, we need to run,” she commands, her voice filled with urgency. The three on the ground know the tone and immediately react, pushing themselves to their feet and doing just that. Run, as another Shattered comes from that alley, hopefully not yet in range to fully catch onto them.

Frantically, they run, keeping to the main roads so they can hopefully see other Shattered before running into them until they can duck into an alley to escape, to break contact and hopefully return to the slow, sneaky prowling they have been using the whole time.

Jenny is best at that, at finding spaces to hide and circumventing the Shattered. She is also the only one their leader inducted into the worship of Frigg, giving her special guidance to help her guide the flock. She has, as of yet, not managed to create any miracles, but by now, she believes. God, the one Jenny has learned about in long-forgotten sermons, has no place in this new world. Here, only results count and she is feeling that strange, uplifting feeling growing within her, even as her prayers leave her almost as exhausted as a day of running through the city.

“We won’t make it back,” Kenny curses, looking at the sky and the dimming light. They have run too far, have been forced into too much of a detour to avoid further conflict.

“We’ll find something,” Jenny promises, silently praying for a miracle. And somehow, she gets a feeling of direction, a soft pull giving her something to follow. Emboldened by that feeling, she continues to guide her friends, even as she starts feeling lightheaded.

Twice more, they have to sneak around Shattered and once, they manage to take another one down, allowing Kenny to reach that coveted level six as well. A small part of Jenny is jealous, wishing that she, too, would get that little bit of power that is keeping her from reaching level five, the level where she’d gain her first Attribute Points. She has seen the changes her friends have undergone, not so much visible but oh-so-obvious. Stronger, or faster, strengthening their advantages even further. Hopefully, those points will be what allows her to truly commune with the divine, to call forth miracles.

But first, survival.

Guided by her feeling, the four reach an abandoned factory, abandoned long before the changes have ever hit. Jenny has no idea why it feels safe to her, but given that they haven’t seen a single Shattered in the last ten minutes, she trusts her feeling.

“Locked,” Kenny simply states, trying to open the rusted door.

“Give me a moment,” Jeff suggests with a grin, kneeling before the door and pulling some simple tools from his pouch. Glances are shared but nobody asks. The life they had before, it is in the past. Nobody asks, nobody wants to be reminded of what they have lost.

Only what skills are available to survive

After a short wait the door clicks open and Kenny moves ahead pushing it open as a screech of unoiled hinges rips through the evening gloom.

“Holy shit,” Jeff mutters, moments after they entered. In the gloom, a huge hound awaits them, big enough to look Kenny, the tallest of them, in the eye if it stood on its hind legs. Big and with obvious traces of blood around its snout and an aura of power that causes them goosebumps.

“Good doggo,” he continues, trying to keep the dog placid, even as it starts to growl softly, “Are you a good boy?”

“Shit, that beast’s level fourteen,” Jenny gasps out, staring death in the face. So far, they have run from everything above level six, focused on enemies around level four or five. Now, they face something far beyond their strength, even if that something is a dog.

“We might manage to tame the dog, don’t make any aggressive moves,” Arlan suggests, visions of powerful pets that do all the fighting for them floating through his mind.

“If anyone makes an aggressive move, it would be me. Or maybe my dog. And she’s not a good boy,” a mocking voice echoes in the empty room, seemingly coming from the shadows around them. Eyes wide, all four of them look around frantically, trying to locate the speaker while Arlan managed to drop his club, letting it bounce on the concrete floor.

Jenny is the first to notice the speaker, a dark shape, seamlessly blending into the shadowy gloom of the abandoned building. Looking closely, the shape appears to be female, just as the voice had been. Only, the shape is far too small and petite for an adult, it can’t be much more than a girl. Or something in the shape of one.

“Who’re you?!” Jenny asks, trying to control her agitated voice. Now that she sees the shape, she can feel power rolling off it, threatening to drown her out entirely as cold sweat starts running down her back. Somehow, the petite female shape feels far more threatening than the dog.

“The one who has taken shelter here?” the monster in the body of a young girl asks, clearly amused by the question, before calling the other monster to her side with a soft whistle.

“Why are you all alone?” Kenny asks, angry at the irresponsible people who left a young girl alone with such a beast. What if the beast had eaten her up?!

“Because I prefer to keep my own company. And I wouldn’t say that I’m alone,” the shape responds, gently petting the other monster’s head, completely unafraid.

Unable to stop herself, Jenny decides to use her Observe ability, she needs to know what this monster is. After a brief flicker, the familiar blue box appears, telling her that they are facing a human. A level fifteen human.

Unable to keep herself from gasping, Jenny goes pale, the cold sweat now soaking her shirt.

“Stop that,” the young girl commands, her voice allowing no resistance, “It is beyond rude to rip away someone's privacy like that. Some would kill for it, be grateful I’m in a forgiving mood,” she adds, as a strange, silvery white object darts out of the gloom, only to disappear back into the darkness moment later.

“Level fifteen?!” Jenny asks, her voice taking on a pleading tone, knowing that it is only benevolence that has kept the monster from slaughtering them all.

Hearing Jenny, the three with her realise just what they are facing. A boss-monster, or something with the powers of one. And they are woefully unprepared.

“Yes, I’ve been quite successful,” the girl-shaped monster replies, a savage grin on her face. “You may stay here for the night, or you can fuck off for all I care. Just don’t get in my way!”

With these words, the monster sauters forward, clearly not seeing the four of them as a threat. Casual, as if this was an ordinary day, not nightfall in the middle of the apocalypse. Even the girl’s clothes, while the cloak is weird, she looks perfectly sorted out, clean and tidy, while her hair has an impeccable sheen, the small lights glinting within giving it the appearance of perfect styling. In the middle of the apocalypse. All four move out of the way, unwilling to get close to either of the two monsters they are facing.

Finally, the two monsters are far enough from them and tension drains from their bodies.

“What on earth was that monster? Why did it look like a girl?!” Kenny asks, his voice cracking.

“That was not just some little girl,” Jenny insists, the knowledge that the monster was human somehow making things only worse for her. “If we ever see her again, be polite. Be very, very polite,” she adds, trying to keep her trembling legs under control. The monster told them they can take shelter here and given what sort of monster has taken shelter here before, this might be the safest place of them all.

Maybe, for once, she can sleep without nightmares.