"Allow me," says Javors. He inserts the [Omega Key] into the lock and the weapon seems to come alive and act of its own accord. It wiggles and twists and then there is the telltale click of the lock opening. Javors gleefully retracts his stiletto. His eyes flash with pride and he pushes the double doors open in his exaggerated way. The consummate showman, he bows deep and says to Ava, “after you.”

Outside the sky is dark and the space trash sparkles. The air is crisp and wholesome compared to the stagnant cave-wind they've been breathing in the Underground. They find themselves on a rocky mountainside, having just exited from the mouth of a mine. A sign planted next to the entrance reads:

This might actually be the first real indication of civilization Ava can remember ever witnessing and so—despite it being an unfriendly marker—the sign is still a welcome sight. It means someone nearby knows how to write English letters, at least.

The mine burrows horizontally into the side of the mountain, emerging here in a man-made clearing. A pair of wagon-wheel ruts course downhill, disappearing into dense woods. And beyond the woods the party can make out smoke spiraling up from distant fires – plumes so numerous that it must mean there is a settlement of some sort down there. Presumably a place called Cripple Creek.

“A village!” Ellie exclaims, “we're saved!”

“Not so fast,” Bach warns, “we don't know if the townsfolk will be friendly.”

“Perhaps just a few of us should head in at first,” Uri suggests, “so we draw less attention.”

“That's smart,” Ava agrees, “I vote you and me.”

“What about Javors?” Javors asks.

“We're trying to avoid attention,” Ava explains, smiling, “and you'd probably die without it.”

The ratman laughs.

“Yeah, you may be right.”

At the edge of the woods they establish their camp. They build a proper fire with thick branches gathered from the forest rather than twigs summoned from the ether. The flames leap and the party is warmed throughout.

“While I do admire your quaint fare,” Javors flatters, “your 'Hobo Hot Pockets'—as you call them—perhaps tonight we should treat ourselves? Let Chef Javors see what he can whip up.” He disappears into the trees while the others settle in.

Bach plops down in the dirt beside the fire, sipping truth wine from his refilled flask. What doe he care? He has no more secrets to keep. Uri and Ellie, meanwhile, pair off to conspire in private. And Ava is left feeling outcast.

This cloud of suspicion hanging over her is unfair but she can empathize with the others. Wasn't so long ago that she was questioning whether Bach may have been involved in the murder of her own family. And come to think of it—come to think of her evil mother—maybe now Ava wishes he had been.

She sits beside the fire, across from Bach, gives him a little half-smile and he sighs and smiles back though only for a moment. Then his pout returns and the flask goes back to his lips. And the ratman also returns, his arms heavy with foraged vegetables and nuts. He constructs his improvised kitchen atop a flat rock and sets to working on their supper, humming to himself and cracking nuts with the hilt of his stiletto. Ellie and Uri also come back to the fireside.

“Ava?” Ellie says.

“Yeah?”

“How is you arm? Where the Dire Drill cut you?”

“It hurts.” She turns so that the others can see the gash in the firelight. “But I guess I'll live.”

“You should be at full strength before heading into the village,” Ellie says, “just to be safe.”

“Appreciate you concern, Ellie, but I don't think we have time to wait for me to heal.”

“You're right, we don't,” Uri says. He joins one hand with Ellie and holds his other over Ava's injury. “Hold still, this will only take a moment.”

He closes his eyes and concentrates, and then he begins to hum quietly, monotone, a growl rising in intensity until finally he grabs a hold of of Ava's painful shoulder and:

The laceration tingles and itches and Ava feels it closing up. She senses the sub-dermal damage repairing itself and understands that really Uri has simply done something to help the cells of her body return to their original states and positions. The body desires a return to health—to its original state—and through psionics he merely stimulates it to action at a cellular level.

And then in game terms she suddenly understands her injury in a different light entirely:

It is a cut, a small laceration – just a Minor Injury consisting technically of two wound points. She understands all at once that there are different degrees of injury: light, minor, moderate, severe, and lethal – all conveying various numbers of wound points. In order for a psionicist to mend an injury—to remove the wound points—they must possess the proper technique for treating the specific degree of injury, although more powerful psionics can be used to mend less serious injuries.

It is an unusual way to conceptualize her own physical body, in these concrete terms and numerical values, but she understands it all as logical and perhaps even more important – she recognizes this system as reality. Uri has used Ellie's mind like a battery, enabling him to essentially communicate with Ava's body at an atomic level, encouraging it to heal itself of one minor injury, which consists of two wound points. And just like that, the gash is gone, the skin on her shoulder is smooth and not even a hint of a scar remains.

“Incredible,” Ava says, eyes welling with tears, “thank you – both of you.”

“It's nothing,” Uri says, “we just need you at full strength.”

The party sups on Javors' delectable forest casserole, a mash of potatoes and onions and crunchy nuts and something gamy and unidentified. It's an odd combination of flavors but the change from Hobo Hot Pockets is welcomed. When the meal is concluded, Ava and Uri make ready for their downhill hike. The sky to the East is just beginning to lighten as the sun crawls up toward the horizon.

“We'll be waiting,” Ellie promises as the pair gets set to leave.

“If we're not back by nightfall,” Ava says, “then something has probably gone wrong, I'd guess.”

“Be safe,” Bach adds, “try to find some bullets.”

Ava and Uri set off down the mountainside, following the wagon ruts, heading for the village on the far side of the woods, and as they take their first step into the forest:

It's a lot to absorb. A lot of bizarre information to try and make sense from. Ava glances at Uri and he's obviously not being bombarded with the same mental messages. He's walking along, listening to the sounds of the woods, paying her little attention. Immediately she decides she can't say anything about this—not to Uri—not when he already mistrusts her. She'd sound insane, trying to explain how everything they've been through so far has only been a tutorial, the death of his sister merely one more in a series of lessons preparing them for.... what, exactly? No, far better for her to keep this most recent mental imagery to herself – especially when she doesn't even fully comprehend it.

You Have One(1) Unassigned Stat Point.

What does that mean? She's not a video game character – right? Is she completely sure about that? There seems to be mounting evidence that she is in fact a figure in some sort of game and very little evidence pointing to the contrary.

This child's body, these hands, even her own voice – none of it has ever felt precisely right. She has traveled this far assuming she felt like an alien in her own skin as a symptom of her amnesia – but could it be something else?

Could it be that she is someone else, and that this body she inhabits is merely an avatar? She feels like she might barf.

“I need to stop a sec,” she says, bending over at the waist with her hands on her knees, breathing deeply, trying to keep it together.

“You okay?” Uri asks.

“Yeah,” Ava lies, “I think it's just the altitude.”

She closes her eyes and the phrase repeats there:

You Have One(1) Unassigned Stat Point.

Assuming she isn't going crazy—a major assumption—it stands to reason that this operates the same as any role-playing game. At Level Two, she gained an action point and an additional maximum wound. Now at Level Three, she's been awarded a point which she can use to increase a stat. She probably needs to access her character sheet in order to select which stat she'd like to raise – but how does she do that? She's only ever managed to view the sheet by accident, when she looked closely at the reflection of her own eye. But could it be similar to the ItemID's and AbilityID's she simply has to envision to make real? It's worth a shot.

She focuses, concentrating on the memory of her character sheet, and the data is suddenly accessible:

Analyzing the data—her data—what jumps out is her low Hardiness. It appears that having a score of 2 is causing her to suffer a penalty to her maximum wounds – a number which she now understands to be of vital importance to her survival. She decides that's the stat she wants to raise first, seeing how if she had suffered just one more minor injury like the one the Dire Drill inflicted upon her shoulder she would have already reached her maximum – and she doesn't want to know what would happen then.

Ava visualizes the stat value and simply wills the addition of her unassigned point. And just like that, her Hardiness score is now 3 and the penalty to her maximum wounds is reduced to -2, meaning her new total is 5 maximum wounds. She deduces that the baseline for all attributes must be 5, meaning a score of 5 would bestow no penalty nor bonus to derivative values like Maximum Wounds and Critical Magnitude.

This head-math makes her feel all at once more safe and also less sane. Is she really going to play along with this? Is she going to entertain the stupidly absurd idea that she can now withstand slightly more physical punishment because she gave herself an additional point of Hardiness, a numerical value recorded on a Character Sheet which she keeps stored in her mind? This is what she's going with? She chuckles to herself. Does she even have a choice?

“Ava?” Uri asks, noticing her quiet laughter. “You gonna be okay? Should we turn back, maybe wait till morning?”

“Nope, I'm good.” She inhales deeply. “Let's keep moving.”