The question isn't as simple as: am I addicted to violence?

It's more like: why shouldn't I be?

She has to accept it – doesn't she? This world just isn't real. She's seen enough math to prove it. So what does it matter if she's waiting anxiously to drive her fist into her foes? To hurt them; to feel the damage she's capable of inflicting. So what if the idea of one day finding bullets for her gun is now almost too exciting to bear? These injuries, these deaths – they aren't really happening. This violence – it's purely for someone's entertainment.

Might as well be hers.

But still there's another question nagging, one which she can't quiet entirely:

What if she's hooked on violence simply because she has no memories?

It could be that this is the natural state of a blank mind; an evolutionary predilection for killing; the default condition of Humanity.

For some reason she thinks back to her second day in this world, when Bach told her he used to work in an industry called 'insurance.'

Maybe the addiction to violence has nothing to do with me personally. Maybe it's less about evolution and more about the culture.

And then suddenly the question is no longer: am I addicted to violence?

It's more like: am I being indoctrinated to kill?

And if so, then by whom?

There's no more time for philosophy because real or not it's kill-or-be-killed down here in the tunnels of the Cripple Creek Iron Mine. Only the first half of the first round of the combat has concluded. Now, it's time for their foes to act:

The dwarf-mechs can expend only 3 action points per turn due to their low Quickness. Ava concludes that if everyone receives an additional action point upon reaching Level Two as she did, then these dwarves must be merely Level One – which tracks with her assumption that this is essentially a newbie zone. A dungeon for beginners – but at least the training wheels are finally off.

The first dwarf to attack is the damaged one, and he seems to select his target by who has harmed him most:

But Uri is too quick. He sidesteps the dwarf's pick-axe chop and the head of the weapon sparks against the floor of the tunnel. And that's the only attack the damaged dwarf can muster. He concludes his turn by initializing [Vigilance], the pick-axe held horizontally in front of him to parry incoming attacks, his wee face performing an uncanny animatronic snarl.

His comrades act next:

Preternaturally slippery, the albino bard casually dances out of the way and the dwarf-mech's pick-axe sizzles through empty air. Ava watches as Uri unleashes another crisp punch—an attack of opportunity activated through the [Vigilance] ability—triggered when Dwarf.1 briefly moves into his melee range while going after Javors.

The blow lands square upon the dwarf's copper-wire beard-covered jaw but no injury is inflicted and its [Natural Armor] is unfazed – even under the buffing influence of Javors' [Fight Song], Uri's basic punch is simply not a powerful enough attack to do any harm to a dwarf-mech who isn't already damaged.

The final dwarf to act also seems to be annoyed by Javors' singing. He repeats the actions of the previous combatant, he too targeting the musical ratman:

And he, too, finds Javors too shifty a foe to land a strike upon.

The first round of the combat has finally come to an end. Ava is amazed and she tries to imagine all the math that must be involved in even larger battles against ever more powerful enemies. And is she excited by that? Does the idea of endless equations—all of which combine to create quantifiable violence—make her heart beat a little bit faster?

Then suddenly the order of combat resets, the action returning to the ratman:

Swift and agile, Javors lands both stabs against Dwarf.3 whose armor has been completely degraded. The needle-thin blade penetrates its chest twice, each strike inflicting a Light Injury and a single Wound.

Ava is able to deduce some truths about the combat system she's experiencing:

A Level One character with a score of 5 in Hardiness can endure a maximum of 6 Wounds. This is the default number, but Ava entered the world with a Hardiness of only 2, meaning she initially suffered a penalty of -3 to her Maximum Wounds.

Upon leveling to two she received another Wound for free, and then at Level Three she placed the attribute point she'd been granted into Hardiness, buying her yet another.

The dwarf-mechs are Level One with a Hardiness of 6, meaning they can withstand the default 6 Wounds plus one additional for being so hardy. That would mean Dwarf.3 has now suffered 3 of his maximum 7 Wounds and also has no armor remaining to protect from further injuries. He should remain the focus of their attacks.

But Darby acts next, and he seems to have other plans:

He rushes up to Dwarf.2 and goes to work carving with the blue flame of his blowtorch:

The blowtorch's flame constitutes a special attack. Ava understands that it is extra effective against enemies or armor made from metal. Dwarf.2's armor has been gouged by the torch, creating a weak point which invalidates the rest, the way a single crack in the shell of an egg causes the entire configuration to become exceedingly fragile.

Darby turns and repeats the maneuver on Dwarf.1 – again scoring a strike which completely nullifies the enemy's armor. In a single turn he has effectively disabled their opponents' remaining defenses.

“Hit 'em with all you've got!” he cries.

“With pleasure,” Uri seethes.

He executes two quick punches, a left-right combo to the copper-bearded jaw of Dwarf.3, and the mech's head spins around viciously before snapping off at the neck. It rolls quite some distance away and the body collapses at Uri's feet, spewing sparks from its neck-hole. He grins and throws a sharp hook at Dwarf.2 but the blow misses by inches.

It's easy enough for Ava to ignore the math happening all around her—to instead focus on the action as visceral and immediate—and alternating between the two perspectives is a satisfying act, the additional data somehow not overwhelming her senses but enhancing them. Giving her an edge; an advantage over her enemies.

She's more than ready for her turn.

And Dwarf.1 is near enough for her to attempt to strike without Ava needing to move at all. And as she discovers new aspects, the mechanics of combat continue to fascinate her. She finds she is capable of performing simple unarmed attacks—basic punches and kicks—despite never having learned them osmotically in the manner of more specialized abilities like [Overload] or [Roundhouse Kick].

Her punches are straight and snappy and she lands two blows to the jaw of her target, snapping his head one-way-and-then-the-other. Her knuckles sting—what's the math that causes that?—but she knows she's inflicted two of the maximum 7 wounds the mech can withstand and that soothes the pain some. With a single action point remaining, Ava activates [Vigilance].

It's somehow an even more empowering sensation, placing herself in this readied state. Her eyesight seems suddenly sharpened and her muscles twitchier. She bounces just slightly on the balls of her feet, rhythmically, anticipating the strikes of her enemies.

“Come get some,” she hears herself snarl like some sort of hardass and she has to laugh.

The two surviving androids are on a rampage now and Darby has drawn their aggro. They both maneuver toward him, pick-axes raised. Their cherubic, sheet-metal faces grimacing furiously.

The first swings-and-misses, impaling the head of his weapon in the cave floor. Ava chuckles. Poor pitiful little thing can't even spend his last action point on[Vigilance] – he has to extract his pick-axe from the floor, instead.

The second dwarf-mech emits a high-pitched squeal like a tea-kettle coming to a boil and surges forward to swing his sharp weapon at Darby:

The mech's pick-axe whistles through the air, the head driving into Darby's ribs with a sickening thump! The young Slayer yelps and jumps back, immediately clutching the bloody divot on his side, his face a mask of shock. The tunnel echoes with Dwarf.2's electronic cackling and he expends his final action point to activate [Vigilance].

Javors continues his [Fight Song] and rushes to Darby's defense, thrusting his stiletto twice into the chest of Dwarf.1. The mech shrieks and squelches like an out-of-tune radio. Darby falls back, retreating to take cover once more behind the mining cart and activating [Vigilance].

And now that it's off cool-down, Uri finishes Dwarf.1 with a [Roundhouse Kick], his foot crushing into the mech's abdomen, busting the little robot into smoldering bits in a satisfying display of overkill. The moment he lands he turns on Dwarf.2 and hits him with a left-right combo.

The final enemy stands before Ava, injured and with his armor broken. She leads with a punch, landing square in the mech's nub of a nose, and then finishes him with a [Roundhouse Kick] of her own.

Dwarf.2 staggers back from the blow and smacks against the wall, falling apart like someone tore open a trash bag full of tin cans, his arms and legs becoming completely detached. Nothing remains of him but a pile of twitching transistors and smoldering microchips.

Encounter Defeated!

Experience gained: (75x3)=225

“Hey!” Ava cheers. “Congratulations, you two!”

Uri rubs his sore knuckles and raises an eyebrow at her. Darby cradles his injured ribs, his face twisted in pain and now confusion. He can't understand why Ava would be congratulating anyone – he's injured and bleeding! Even Javors tilts his head quizzically while sliding his stiletto back into its scabbard.

And all at once Ava realizes: none of them know. None of the others experienced the combat the way she did – full of math and logic. Full of excitement and dopamine. In her eagerness to accept the rules of the game—to accept the existence of the game—she just assumed everyone else was playing, too.