Zeke slept for the better part of eighteen hours, and even then, when he finally woke, it was to a sore and still-exhausted body. He could push through it, though. Even awake, so long as he didn’t strain himself, he would continue his recovery. It would take longer, but at least he would be able to address the issues facing the city. Specifically, the undead horde that would soon be bearing down on them all.

He sat up, rubbing the back of his sore neck. For some reason, the pain tolerance that had come with his racial transformation didn’t help, so he felt the full brunt of his aching muscles. Sliding out of bed, he stood and stretched; it wasn’t so different than how he used to feel after a good workout, and he slowly worked out the kinks in his muscles. While he was stretching, Abby came into the room. She didn’t say anything at first. Instead, she just watched.

“If only we had a little more time,” she said, almost to herself.

“That’s kind of a theme for us, isn’t it?” he asked, straightening to his full height. “We almost never get the chance to just exist. It’s always running from one catastrophe to another, never stopping to enjoy the life we’ve begun to build.”

“You think you would be happy sitting still?” she asked, coming closer. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest. “Because I know you as well as anybody, and I think you’d have a hard time doing nothing. You’re a mover, Zeke. If you ever stopped, even for a little while, you’d go a little crazy, I think.”

That was at least partially true. Back on Earth, the only time Zeke had ever stopped working was when he’d been injured. And that hadn’t worked out well for his mental state. Even when he’d taken time off – a necessity for any athlete – he’d often found himself going through the motions on his own. His mother had always chided him for not developing any other interests or hobbies, but even she had come to accept that he had a one-track, obsessive mind that didn’t have much room for anything other than a primary goal.

And as much as Zeke had changed since being reborn, that was one thing that had remained the same. He’d seen the consequences of losing focus in the eyes of men and women who’d fallen off the path of self-improvement. Some were happy enough, but they would never maximize their potential. They would never reach the peak. Zeke couldn’t do that to himself.

“How about a vacation?” he asked. “We could go set up somewhere nice. You know, where we could just relax.”

“And you would be okay with that?” she asked, looking up at him as her fingers intertwined with his.

“As long as you’re there, I’ll be okay with just about anything,” he stated.

She grinned. “That’s one of the nicest, sappiest things anyone’s ever said to me,” was her response.

“I aim to please,” he said.

After that, the pair lost themselves in one another’s embrace, only breaking apart when their responsibilities loomed too large in their minds to ignore. With regret, Zeke pulled away, saying, “I guess we need to figure out the whole zombie army situation, then. Any news on that front?”

“They’re less than a day away,” Abby said, watching Zeke don his armor. “And there’s a lot more than we thought. At least fifty thousand, some of which are frost giants.”

Zeke stopped and ran his hand through his hair before asking, “What kinds of levels are we dealing with?”

“Most are mid-teens, from what we’ve seen,” she said. “The giants are almost all higher than that. And there are plenty of evolved undead as well. Reapers. Flesh golems. Wraiths. And that’s not all…”

“What is it?”

“You remember Abdul Rumas?” she asked.

Zeke nodded. “The paladin,” he suggested. “He was turned into some kind of huge undead. I thought he’d go down with the goats.”

Abby shook her head. “He didn’t,” was her response. “He’s stronger now, and he’s leading that army. Talia said that he’s a monarch-tier monster, now.”

“Well…shit,” Zeke said, affixing his breastplate to his chest. “That’s not good.”

“Not good? That’s all you have to say?” she asked, exasperated. “Monarch-tier, Zeke. That means we have to get out of here.”

Zeke shrugged. He’d fought a monarch-tier monster before – the fireback turtle in the Lake of Flames – and he’d come out on top. Of course, he’d been extremely well-suited to that fight because he was functionally immune to the creature’s most potent attacks, but he’d still managed the feat.

Rumas would be different, he was sure. But then again, Zeke had help this time, too. All of his companions and an entire city stood behind him. But even if that weren’t true, Zeke didn’t think he could simply abandon Jariq. Perhaps if he hadn’t already been there, he could just ignore it, but now that he was, if he ran away, he’d feel like a coward.

“We’ll deal with him,” he said.

“How?”

His shoulders sagged. “I’m not sure yet,” was his truthful response. “But we’ll do it. We have power, Abby. A lot of it. And I know you want to just leave this city to its own devices. I don’t –”

“They’ve done nothing but tried to kill us since we got here,” she said.

“That’s not true,” he pointed out. “The Union helped me.”

“Because they were terrified,” was her retort.

He shrugged. “Still did it,” he said. “There are plenty of good people here, Abby. We owe it to them to help if we can.”

She shook her head, muttering, “You and your hero complex. It’s going to get you killed, Zeke. One of these days, you’re going to bite off more than you can chew.”

He gave her his best, most confident smile before saying, “That’s why I have you around, right? To pull me out of the fire.”

She shook her head and was about to say something when he added, “Oh – that reminds me. I got something for you.”

“A present? What is it?” she asked, already perking up.

He summoned the suit of blue leather armor from his spatial storage and handed it over. “It’s…uh…a little bloody,” he said, noticing the stains. “Maybe I should’ve cleaned it first…”

“Blood-soaked armor,” she said. “You really know how to treat a girl, don’t you?”

“I…I’m sorry. I just –”

She slapped her palm against his armored chest and grinned. “I’m just messing with you, Zeke. This is great,” she said. “You saw that it increases elemental damage, right? This set is worth a fortune!”

“Uh…maybe?” Zeke said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “I mean, probably. It was taken from one of the Eyes. You know, the people in charge of the Crystal Spiders. But to be fair, I think they were just for show. Lucius seemed to be the one in charge. None of the others even said anything. Some of them were part of the Sultanate, I guess. So maybe the previous owner was one of them. I don’t know. My point is that whoever she was, she was important and rich.”

“Too much explanation, Zeke. Thank you,” she said.

“R-right,” was his embarrassed reply. He’d never had much of an occasion to give or receive gifts, so he was definitely out of practice. Whatever the case, he was glad that Abby seemed to like her new armor.

“Hey – let me borrow that ring you got back in Beacon,” she said. “The one that cleans stuff.”

Zeke complied, grabbing the oft-forgotten [Ring of Cleansing] from his spatial storage and handing it over. Abby took it, put it on, then let it clean her new armor. When it was finished, the leather was pristine, and she wasted no time in putting it on. Zeke couldn’t help but admire her form as she did so.

“Perv,” she said.

“What? No!” he said. “I was just –”

“I’m kidding, Zeke,” she said. “Obviously. You’re supposed to look. Just like I’m not going to miss an opportunity to do the same. That’s part of being a couple.”

Zeke nodded. They’d been together for a while, but some of the nuances of being in a relationship had escaped him. Of course, it was easy while they were leaping from one fight to another or when they had the time for intimacy, but the little moments in between were still awkward for him.

Thankfully, there hadn’t been much opportunity for those awkward situations, and this was no exception. As soon as the two were armored, they left their room and walked through the floor’s expanded hallways to the staircase leading down to the lobby. As they did so, Zeke couldn’t help but marvel at how the whole thing had grown. Most of the tower’s features were the same, but everything was bigger, grander, and more expansive. In addition, the ceilings had gained arches that shouldn’t have fit in the space of a single level. Such was the tower’s magic, and, with a shake of his head, Zeke descended the wide, spiral staircase, running his fingers along the carved banister.

The lobby was much the same as well, though far larger and with a few new statues depicting Zeke’s most recent adventures. Pudge was down there, too, lying in front of the doors. Or gates, really, given their new size.

Pudge dragged himself to his feet and stepped aside, nuzzling Zeke when he drew close. Concern and relief flooded Zeke’s mind, and he assured the bear that he was fine before pushing the doors open.

When he did, he saw a crowd of people, most of whom were richly dressed. Some looked resigned. Others appeared angry. And facing them all was Carlos, who looked more tired than Zeke had felt immediately after releasing [Heart of the Berserker].

“Oh, thank God,” Carlos said, noticing their approach. He stood before a broad table that was strewn with various maps and other documents. “I don’t know how much longer I could have held out.”

“I demand you remove this…this monstrous tower at once!” screamed a red-faced woman with short, black hair. She was tall, thin, and had cheekbones so sharp that looked as if they could cut glass.

“No,” was Zeke’s simple response. Otherwise, he ignored her as he asked Carlos, “What’s the situation?”

The crowd roared in response, demanding his attention. Or his surrender. Or a thousand other things Zeke didn’t listen to. Thankfully, Pudge picked up on his annoyance and reared up on his hind legs. A second later, he tilted his head back and spewed a gout of fire into the air. The crowd went silent, because of course they did. To Zeke and his companions, Pudge was a lovable ball of fur. To everyone else, he was a van-sized, level twenty-three monster that looked like he’d climbed out of the pits of hell. Before that, the crowd shrank back, giving Zeke the room he needed to assess the situation.

“Not good is what it is,” Carlos said, exhaustion lacing his voice. “Every faction in the city is up in arms, demanding to speak with the Sultan. I’ve told them he’s dead, that the Spiders are gone, too, but they won’t believe me. I even dragged his body out here, but there wasn’t a lot left, so it wasn’t recognizable.”

“Uh…sorry?”

“Right,” Carlos went on. “And it’s made even worse because the Spiders who are left have retreated down into the Nest. As far as I can tell, they’re fighting each other for control of the guild. There aren’t many elites left, but the ones who’re still around are making trouble. Popping up at the worst times, killing all the wrong people – the city’s going over a cliff, Zeke. And I don’t know how to stop it.”

Zeke sighed. This was his fault. If he and Talia hadn’t killed so many powerful people, they city would be better prepared for the trials to come. And with an undead horde the size of an army bearing down on them, they needed all the preparation they could get.

“What are they saying about the undead?” Abby asked.

“You mean the few who actually believe there’s an army on the way?” Carlos scoffed. “I’ve offered to show them what’s coming, but they refuse to leave the city, saying that they think I’m just trying to get them to leave so I can take their territory. And the ones who do believe me are terrified of committing too strongly, lest their neighbors sense weakness and annex their territory. The only ones who are firmly behind us are the guards and the Union.”

It was more than Zeke had really expected, but less than he’d hoped. Jariq had always been a fractured city, held together by the thinnest of strands. Now, without the Sultan or his bureaucracy, it was falling further apart.

“How do you suggest we deal with it?” asked Zeke.

“Me? How should I know?” Carlos asked.

“It’s your city, isn’t it? If you don’t know, none of us do,” Zeke answered.

Carlos looked at him like he’d gone crazy. “I’m an assassin, Zeke,” he said. “And a vigilante. I know nothing about running a city.”

“Well, we’re going to have to learn pretty damned quick,” Zeke countered. “Because those undead aren’t going to wait for us to get organized, right? They’re supposed to be here in less than a day. When that happens, we either present a unified front, or we’re all going to die.”

“Or we could just leave,” Abby suggested again.

“We’re not leaving,” both Zeke and Carlos said at the same time.

Zeke ran his hand through his hair, thinking. He was no strategist, but if nobody else was going to step up, he’d have no other choice. So, he asked, “Where’s Talia?”

“Scouting,” Carlos said. “She’s due back any minute.”

“Good,” Zeke said. “When she gets back, I’ve got a mission for her. I’m tired of those Spiders messing everything up, so it’s time to get rid of them once and for all. Talia’s well-suited for that. Meanwhile, I’m going to give a little speech.”

With that, Zeke stepped on top of the table. It groaned in protest, but it was well made enough that it held his weight. Clearing his throat, he raised his voice, “Attention!”

His voice boomed, far louder than he thought himself capable of, and every head in the plaza turned in his direction. More importantly, they quieted down. Zeke could feel the fear wafting off of the gathered city leaders.

“There is an undead army bearing down on this city,” he said. “Fifty thousand strong. Among them are evolved creatures. Elites. Bosses. And leading them all is a monarch-tier monster.”

“We’re doomed!” someone yelled, which prompted a wave of chittering conversation.

Zeke roared, “Silence! Silence. To defeat this enemy, we all must work together. Anyone who works against the collective good will meet me or one of my friends. You don’t want that. So, hold your bickering. Stay your turf wars. And defend your city. Otherwise, nothing else matters. In the meantime, we will be coordinating the city’s defense with the guards, who will give you your assignments.”

“Who put you in charge?” came a woman’s voice. Zeke was unsurprised to see that it belonged to the same woman who’d demanded his tower’s removal.

“I put myself in charge,” Zeke said. “Anyone who doesn’t like it…well, you’re more than welcome to take it from me. If you can.”

The threat was clear. Zeke didn’t want to lead anyone. He wasn’t qualified, and he knew it. But the absence of leadership was far more dangerous. Thankfully, the woman – who was a level eighteen named Erin Harsin – backed down. So did everyone else, and soon enough, everyone had left the plaza.

One man remained, though. He was dressed in chainmail armor, carried a sword and shield, and had the tabard of the guards strapped across his chest. Zeke identified him as a level twenty-three named Forrest Wales.

He stepped forward, saying, “Well, you talk a big game, kid. Let’s see if you can back it up. I’m the highest ranking member of the guard left, so I guess you’ll be dealing with me.”

He extended his hand, and Zeke took it. As they shook, Zeke asked, “You know what’s coming?”

“I heard.”

“And what do you put our chances at defending against a force like that?” was Zeke’s next question.

The man answered, “I don’t rightly know, to be honest. But I can’t think it’ll be good, especially if they’ve got a monarch.”

“I’ll be taking care of him,” Zeke said. “Your job is to deal with the rest of them.”

Wales looked Zeke up and down, clapped him on the shoulder, then said, “Well, we’re rightly fucked, then. But we’ll give it a good go, one way or another. Who knows? Maybe we’ll pull a win out of our asses. Stranger things have happened, yeah?”

“I…I guess.”