Mary took a deep breath and tried to settle her anxious nerves, the fingernails on both her hands had been bitten down to the flesh. Everything had gone wrong since the moment she walked into this place.

  Why didn't I stay in the car...

  The thought wouldn't leave her alone, her mind would remind her of the regretful decision whenever she thought of her husband. Before her family reached this place earlier in the day, they’d been in the car for hours, traveling south from their home in Vermont. She had only taken James into the store to stretch their legs. Now, because of her own choice, she was trapped with strangers during a horrifying emergency, and Patrick was trapped in the car with no ability to even flee.

  Mary refocused on the situation in front of her, attempting to stabilize her mind by concentrating on the task at hand, however unpleasant. She was currently stitching up the wound on Jack’s forehead, ignoring the young man’s constant complaints.

  "Ah, ow, ow, owww! Can we stop? I think I’d rather bleed to death!" He lamented. She couldn’t believe he could even talk—She had seen how hard he’d been hit. Any normal person would be in a coma, if they survived. Jack shrugged off her concerns, claiming he’d always had a talent for taking hits. Now, he quite literally did. The first thing he’d done when he woke up, blood still oozing from his face, was cheer at the message waiting for him from the system. The tough young man had unlocked a passive ability called Endless Grit, making his body unusually durable and likely saving his life.

  "Settle down. You’ll be fine," Mary consoled him, skillfully ignoring his protests—a talent any mother worth her salt possessed. But it was hard work. Jack’s skin, likely thanks to his new skill, was tougher than an old leather boot, and she had struggled at first to pierce it with the needle.

  "There, finally done. See? You survived." She clipped the end of the stitching and sprayed antiseptic over the whole thing for good measure.

  You have unlocked the talent Mend Wound.

  Mend Wound Level 1 – Injuries to which you have applied first aid will heal 25% more quickly.

  "Why don’t you help us instead of playing this stupid game of talents and points?" Mary scolded the ethereal magical construct.

  Insufficient data.

  "Of course there is. How convenient!"

  Mary was interrupted from her argument with the system when James ran up to her, pointing back at Lucius. "Mom, he’s moving!"

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  Lucius had been lying absolutely still for almost an hour. The horrible seizures had finally stopped, thank god, but now he was barely breathing. Mary couldn’t even begin to guess what was wrong with him—he’d been perfectly healthy one moment, and the next, he seemed on the brink of death.

  Now, life seemed to be returning to Lucius’ body. His breathing grew deep and steady, and his bottom lip began to move like he was trying to say something.

  “N-no, b-bad kitty,” he mumbled, though his voice was so soft it was barely audible.

  "Weird," said James, "You think he’s having a dream?", James let out a playful, "Meow!", after hearing Lucius utter the word kitty.

  Lucius’ body suddenly jolted at the sound, and his eyes shot open wide. "Ahh!" he screamed, scrambling backward away from James across the floor, as if trying to escape from the young boy.

  "Calm down, bud! You’re fine! Take a deep breath!" Jack held his hands out to show Lucius they weren't a threat.

  "W-where?" Lucius looked around the store, confusion slowly fading from his face as he realized where he was. "I’m back?"

  "You didn’t go anywhere, bud. You’ve been lying there the whole time," Jack suppressed a chuckle. "You alright now? Let me help you up." Jack walked up slowly and took Lucius by the arm, helping him to his feet.

  Lucius noticed the freshly sealed wound on Jack’s forehead, as well as the bruises and fresh bloodstains over the older blue ones from the abyss creatures. "How long was I out? Did you get attacked by more creatures while I was unconscious?" he asked.

  "Uh, not exactly," Jack said, scratching his head and looking away.

  "No, you did it!" James pointed at Lucius, oblivious to the pleading look in Jack’s eyes.

  "What? How could I have done it?" Lucius asked, confusion returning to his face.

  James eagerly updated Lucius on everything that had happened since he’d lost consciousness.

  "Damnit... Are you OK? I can't believe I was so stupid!" Lucius scolded himself as he cast his eyes down, avoiding eye contact with Jack. He didn’t mind putting himself at risk; in fact, he could be described as downright self-destructive at times. He had never allowed that behavior to harm others, though—until now. The fact was, he had almost killed Jack, all because he liked the way gaining attributes made him feel. That realization left a sinking feeling in his chest. Lucius was ashamed, and he couldn't help thinking that the vicious torture at the hands—or paws, rather—of Twixy was what he deserved.

  Jack could see that Lucius was remorseful; the emotions were clearly visible in his body language.

  "Stop that sulking. You didn’t hurt me on purpose, right?" Jack consoled, then continued in a more cheerful tone, "Look, I’m fine, AND I earned a new ability! I’d say you did me a favor, bud!" Jack proceeded to brag about how he had received the passive ability Endless Grit from enduring such a hard hit.

  Lucius felt a little better, but no matter what Jack said, his behavior had been reckless. Even if he hadn’t hurt Jack, he could have died from mana poisoning. Jack’s sacrifice—letting Lucius take all the kills to grow stronger—would have been wasted. Jack, Mary, James, and Patrick would have lost their strongest ally! Lucius felt a surge of emotions he wasn’t used to. Other people actually needed him! Dormant feelings of responsibility were awakening within him, and he resolved, then and there, that his life wasn’t his to throw away anymore. Twixy had said it: he was the strongest human on Earth at the moment. How many lives could he save if he used his new abilities to protect others? If he died, he’d be taking all those potential lives with him. That was something he could not accept.