The upstairs area was divided by a cross of hallways, one long, one short. In the center, a railing surrounded a circular opening that looked onto the floor below. Each quarter of the floor had two rooms, and stairs bookended both ends of the long hallway. One door was open, on the other side and to Frank's left. He walked over, stopping in the door frame and looking around.

This particular room looked like it was the break room for city employees. A few somewhat tattered couches, a water cooler, and a counter with a microwave, dotted the edges of it, while two tables surrounded by folding chairs covered the center. A TV sat uselessly, mounted to the wall. Inside, 9 people were scattered about.

Two of them, tall, elderly men, sat on one of the couches, conversing with each other in low tones. One, balding and liver-spotted, face droopy, wore a crisp suit. The style was obviously dated, baggy on him on the way that was popular thirty years ago. It probably hadn't been worn in the interim from its first use and today. The unfortunate fit of his clothes aside, he was clearly comfortable in his current position, one leg resting on the other, torso bent to face the other old man.

The other man, for his part, looked a bit younger. His face was wrinkled but otherwise clear, and he had a full head of white hair, styled immaculately. He wore a golf tee, slacks, and sneakers. A stainless steel watch, either a Rolex or a very good imitation, adorned his wrist. His exposed arm was not bulky, but the lines of his muscles showed through, veins visible over top.

On the other couch, a heavily bandaged man lay, sleeping. He couldn't be taller than five four, and his shirtless torso had the look of muscle underneath fat. He looked Filipino, but with bandages wrapped around his face, Frank couldn't tell.

Beside him, a woman, even shorter than him, sat on the floor. Her proximity to the man and similarity of ethnicity indicated a wife or relative. She wore sweat pants and a hooded sweater, both grey and unadorned. Her hair was tied up in a bun, out of the way of her young-looking face.

One woman simply sat in a corner, her black hair obscuring her face as she looked down, hands around her knees.

In the center of the room, three men and a woman played what appeared to be hold'em poker. One of the men was overweight, middle-aged, and dressed like a cowboy. Another had a face so nondescript and forgettable Frank had difficulty describing it. To make it worse he wore a simple white button-up and grey slacks. Frank thought he might be the single most generic person he'd ever laid eyes on. The third was a mousey looking bespectacled man, an unkempt mop of black hair and thin features giving him the air of a mad scientist. He wore a simple blue t-shirt and black jeans.

Lastly, the lone woman playing cards was a heavyset lady in what looked to be her early forties, broad-shouldered for a woman and thick limbed. Her hair was just starting to grey, and it had been lopped short enough it would never get in her face.

Except for the bandaged man and the woman by herself on the chair, everyone glanced over at Frank's entrance. He stepped into the room, Bill following behind. "I'm Frank. A cop named Jim sent me over."

Bill followed up. "I'm Bill."

The Rolex guy responded first, introducing himself. "I'm Sasha, and this is my husband Brook." He said, gesturing to the man beside him. Brook nodded and waved his hand lazily.

The poker players then gave their introductions, led by the woman, who turned out to be the eldest sister, the rest of her brothers. Frank committed names to faces. Her name was Margarite. The cowboy, was, amusingly, also Frank. The forgettable one was Allan, and the nerd was Grant.

"I'm Maria, and this is my father, Hugo." The short woman said, gesturing towards the bandaged figure sleeping on the couch. She looked over at the woman in the corner, a frown on her face. "That's Anna over there."

Margarite stepped up to settle them both in. "You can just put your things wherever. Just keep anything sharp off to the side so no one gets poked accidentally. That closet there is where the weapons people got are stored." She looked the pointedly at Bill's spear, hinting for him to put it down somewhere. "Other than that, take a seat wherever you'd like. Just give Anna some space." She was clearly an experienced host from how naturally she took the role. Even more clearly to Frank was how stressed she was.

In fact, with the exception of Sasha, every person there was obviously tense. That made Frank mark him out specifically. Either he was unnaturally collected, or he'd chosen to put his stat points into stability. Given that if he'd put points in stability that'd mean he had beaten the tutorial without improving his physique at all, which in turn implied experience with violence, he was the most immediately intriguing and potentially dangerous person there. Either he was naturally suited to handle the crisis, or he had the life experience to deal with it.

Bill propped his spear up in a corner, and sat at the table nearest it, immediately relaxing. "Anyone here got a phone I can use? Mine died when this shit happened."

Margarite replied. "Every phone in the town is dead, as far as we are aware. All ours don't work, and when Greg, Laurie, and Jim were looking around last evening, they couldn't find anything electronic that would turn on. Greg said he thought it was an 'emp' I think?"

Bill sighed at this. "Fucking aliens."

Brook replied, "You think it's aliens too?"

"Fucking rights, got attacked by literal little green men. Way I figure it, the government's been developing countermeasures to deal with em, nanobots to improve your and whatnot, and this whole shitshow is the aliens striking first."

Maria joined in. "What I hope is this is just a really bad dream. No offence Frank, Bill, but it'd be for the best if neither of you were real and this is all in my head. When I escaped from that room the messages said two point three billion people were left. If this is real and the messages aren't lying that's horrifying." She shuddered.

The room lapsed into silence. Frank surveyed it silently, not sitting down, before deciding to try and give everyone there something less macabre to consider. "Are you all from Redstone?"

Margarite nodded. "Yes. Everyone here is."

"Well I'm from Northern Canada, and Bill isn't from around here either. When this happened, I ended up here after the 'tutorial.' I don't know why or how, but that's not the weirdest thing about this whole situation."

Sasha appraised him, one eyebrow raised. "Are you saying that people could potentially end up anywhere after that abomination we all had to deal with?"

"At the very least, 700 kilometres away, " Frank replied. It was obvious that Sasha had made the inference immediately, and from how he looked him over, Frank thought that Sasha was trying to decide whether Frank had revealed the knowledge intentionally to change the mood.

Anna looked up at Frank for a moment, face impassive, before letting her head hang back down. Frank continued. "I'll be happy to get to know all of you later, but mainly I just wanted to introduce myself, and pass on some information." He paused. "If any of you remember the green things from the 'tutorial,' me and Bill saw more of them coming into town. There was a group of three and a group of nine. No idea where they came from, but I wanted to make you all aware."

Frank emphasized tutorial when he said it, implying that it was not his own name for the room he knew they'd all experienced. "I'm going to head back out. There are more than a few things I'd like to figure out. I'm sure Bill can fill you in on any questions you have. The walk in did a number on his feet so he'll be resting for a while." By mentioning to everyone there that Bill hurt his feet and needed to rest, the odds of Bill actually doing that increased. Frank wanted to move quickly, and that meant getting rid of Bill. The man could be of help. He could certainly fight. But before Frank could trust him he'd have to get over the conspiracy shit. If and when he did, Frank would figure out whether Bill had the mental toughness to deal with what was to come. Right now, the fantasy he'd built up shielded him, but Frank could already see the fraying edges of it in the way Bill had acted thus far.

Frank turned to leave, drawing puzzlement from many of the others there. "If I find a working phone I'll come back with it." He said as he left, a further attempt to keep Bill in place. Frank headed back down the stairs, to the first floor. He was nearly outside when the sound of other footsteps following him down stopped him at the double doors exiting the building. He waited, wondering who had decided to follow him. Either Bill or Sasha, most likely.

A figure rounded the corner, exiting the stairwell. It turned out to be Sasha. The man noticed Frank had stopped. "Sorry to bother you, but after you left, I couldn't help but follow after to ask you a question. A clarification."

"Go ahead. No reason not to share anything I know." Frank replied.

"Well, there was something in the way you spoke, and though you tried to hide it, to couch it in emphasis indicating ambivalence and unsureness, I couldn't help but notice. What makes you so absolutely certain that what we experienced was a tutorial? Why do you believe what it told you about itself?" Sasha looked at him.