There weren’t many phone calls more alarming than “I just got in a fight, I won, but I’m pretty banged up. Can you guys come get me?”

Micheal ran to the car, yelling for the others as he went.

It really said something about the last month that they all piled into the car without hesitation, not even bothering to ask what was wrong until they were pulling out.

Micheal pulled out his phone, typing in the address Del gave him. “Del got in a fight. She won, but she’s hurt. I don’t know how bad.”

“Shit!” Margie swore. The truck raced down the road, the old woman taking the corners at worrying speeds.

Micheal’s fists clenched and unclenched. Del said she ‘wasn’t bleeding out or anything.’ But Micheal still felt his panic rising.

He wished he could make the car move faster. Could I even give a vehicle my buff?

~<>~<>~

Margie pulled to a stop to find Del sitting on a camping chair, some bandages around one leg and a bag of ice over her arm and shoulder.

People milled around her, one of them bringing Del a glass of water as Margie watched.

They climbed out of her truck, and Micheal ran over. He and Del had ‘hung out’ as the kids put it over the last two weeks.

She hadn’t expected the two to become friends, but she’d seen odder pairings.

Her boys rushed ahead, whining and yipping at Del.

The people gathered around gave them nervous looks, but that was all.

Micheal was fussing over the woman. She didn’t look too good. The burn on her arm and shoulder was nasty, and the bandages on her leg had bits of red leaking through.

“You got ‘em?” She asked as she stopped beside her.

Del grinned. “Yeah, I got ‘em.”

Micheal waved Steven over. “I need you to punch me.“

Steven blinked. “What- oh.“

Del snapped her fingers, and two pulses of white light wrapped around Micheal.

Steven pulled his fist back, but he looked like he just bit into a lemon.

Margie walked past him. “Let me.“

Steven paused. “Wha-”

She punched, her fist slamming into Micheal‘s ribs. She didn’t hold the blow. She couldn’t if they wanted this to work.

Her fist impacted, and while she didn’t have any buffs, passing through two Thresholds meant she didn’t punch like someone pushing 70 anymore.

Micheal staggered back a step from the force before blinking and rubbing at his ribs. “Hey, that barely hurt at all.“ He stared off towards nothing before smiling. “It worked!” His gaze locked onto Del. “Thank you, hero.“

No matter how many times she saw it, Margie never got tired of seeing Micheal Skill at work.

Blue light flowed out of him, twisting through the air like in a stream before sliding over Del. It wrapped her whole body before sinking into her skin.

Margie blinked, she hadn’t noticed it before, but she could feel something from the Skill.

A sort of impression. It was distant, like feeling heat through an oven mitt. It wasn’t a sound or sense; it was a feeling. Safety, gratitude, protection.

Del sighed. “That’s ni-,“ she cut off as Micheal closed his eyes and energy surged from him, crashing into Del like a wave.

Micheal dropped, but Steven was there to catch him.

Del gasped like she’d been dumped in cold water.

The skin along her arm writhed and shifted, red and black turning back to a healthy tan. The burn almost vanished completely as the blue light flared.

Her leg spasmed, and she stood up.

She stretched and let out a delighted laugh. “So that’s what it feels like!“

Micheal blinked a few times, gave her a thumbs up, then stumbled towards the truck.

~<>~<>~

Del gave them the play-by-play of her fight.

It wasn’t a lengthy play-by-play, as it were. The fight took less than thirty seconds, all told.

That was the strength of her new Skills. She ended things immediately, or her buffs ran out, and she was screwed.

The blitz style made her nervous, but she couldn’t deny its effectiveness.

Her story done, she fell quiet, the other's voice washing over her as she leaned back in the seat.

The pain was mostly gone now, but the exhaustion it brought was still clinging to her. Not the physical, Micheal had wiped that away, but he couldn’t get rid of the emotional toll of feeling her skin burn and crisp.

Noodle rested his chin on her knee, and she began to pet him idly.

Del stared at the white trees as her mind worked.

I almost killed someone.

The fact she hadn’t was luck as much as anything. The punch to the back of wind boy, or ‘Quinton Mayra’ as the System had informed her, could have easily killed him.

And that didn’t bother her.

The first weeks of the System’s arrival hadn’t been kind to her. Quinton wouldn’t have been her first. It wasn’t the potential death that bothered Del so much as her attitude toward it.

She would have done it and slept fine afterward.

Not because she didn’t care about life or wanted to kill people but because she understood the situation.

If the trio had aimed for a different house, they could have killed children with one of those black stones. That wasn’t a time to hold back.

Del believed she had the right mindset, but settling into such a…pragmatic attitude so quickly bothered her. Is something wrong with me?

It wasn’t normal to be okay with the thought of killing. She knew that, but what was she supposed to do? Beat herself up about being willing to kill people who would kill her and others given the chance?

…What if I misjudge a situation, though? What is it, the slippery slope? If I’m willing to kill when needed, how do I know I won’t jump to it too quickly.

She sighed. She wasn’t going to find the answer this second.

Noodle grunted as she scratched his ears, and she closed her eyes.

Steven and Micheal were arguing about a game she wasn’t familiar with, and Margie cut in with the odd comment. The woman clearly had no clue what the game was; she was just trying to rile them.

As the truck weaved its way up the mountain, Del listened to the others, a fragile peace settling over her.