The air was just beginning to clear as a gentle wind rose up behind us, carrying away the smell of smoke and burning rubber. The sun was beginning to set, as small ripples shimmered across the dark surface of the Cooper River. Everything else had become buried in muted hues of grey and brown from the thick cloud of dust created by demolishing the Ravenel bridge.

The rubble was still smoldering, releasing plumes of twisting smoke into the blackened sky. The two ends of the bridge were relatively intact, but the middle had completely collapsed. Severed cables hung loosely from a few remaining supports, standing vigil in remembrance of what was lost. It was a testament to what had been, the remnants of our former world now little more than scraps.

What remained of our group stood on a rocky beach overlooking the west bank of the river. We were slightly downstream from the ruined bridge, and directly across the river from the USS Yorktown, the old WWII aircraft carrier turned floating museum.

We’d had a short service to honor those who had died on the bridge, but a proper memorial would have to be left for later. After this impromptu funeral, the remaining bridge guards had left, Rachel going with them in a bittersweet goodbye. I was happy that at least one of us would return unharmed from what I was beginning to see as a doomed quest.

I had no such hope for those of us who continued, least of all myself. I could feel the pressure in the back of my mind, growing, demanding to be let out. I may have made it part of me, but it was yet to be seen how large a part it would become.

The fisher, still in its grotesque form, turned towards me. It regarded me with many eyes, and I could feel its amusement and silent judgment. It felt my fear, and yet had none of my misgivings. I could sense a silent confidence through our bond. What would have been has already become, I heard a whisper echo through my mind.

I watched as the creature began to twist, it’s body morphing with the sounds of crushed bone and torn flesh. Tendons and skin rotated, winding out into long, meaty tendrils that leaked thin streams of black mist. Slowly, the flesh dissolved completely and the mist reformed into a small bird, the kingfisher.

The process looked much worse than it sounds.

I turned back towards the group, no longer able to contemplate the strange creature but also never able to ignore it completely. I tried to suppress the images that screamed through my mind. I no longer knew which thoughts were my own, and which came from something … other.

We’d lost most of the day to the battle and its aftereffects. Many of the bridge guards, as well as Worthy and his group, had lost friends — loved ones. The mood was somber as they all attended to their task quietly, grouping together in small bands as they mourned. I knew their pain, but I also knew that it was not a thing for outsiders.

I hadn’t known the dead, and I would have to contemplate that loss alone. If only I could … I didn’t know what I needed, but a deep melancholy set over me as my eyes slid over the muted forms of the survivors. They carried out their tasks on a stony beach beneath a murky sky, eyes full of tears but also something more. Defiance.

I realized then that the world had not ended, not truly. It was ending, perhaps, but something new could be built from the ashes. These men and women would build it; I felt too tired to even contemplate my own place in that world.

I had felt powerful during combat, but now I felt only exhaustion. When it was all over, I would find someplace to be alone, if such a place still existed. Other worlds were out there — perhaps one of them could support a quiet life?

But, it wasn’t over. Maybe, it never would be.

The survivors all had injuries ranging from minor scrapes to broken limbs, and, in one case, a punctured lung. These injuries, and my own ankle, would have healed perfectly over time – one of the benefits of the system. That, however, could take days.

Fortunately, one of the guards, a mage wearing a long, red coat and a fedora, had a few low-level healing spells. Worthy had also surprised me by fixing my ankle with a skill he called Lay on Hands. He smirked slightly when he said it, but I didn't catch the joke.

Of the original group, only Worthy, Bridgette, Tiller, Catayla, and I remained. And the Fisher. After its transformation, it had perched on my shoulder and appeared to be sleeping. I could sense its alertness.

The terrifying thing was that I knew the small form resting on me could change into a mass of tentacles and eyes whenever it wanted to. It might have given me nightmares if all the vacancies hadn’t already been filled by even greater, more existential terrors.

“Are you sure that thing will float?” asked Worthy. “It creeps me out a little.”

"A little?" I asked. "The thing terrifies me, and I made it."

My ‘boat’ was pushed halfway into the water, a shadowy rope anchoring it to a nearby rock. The craft was little more than a large box that was open at the top, with three lines of benches and a flat canopy roof. It was constructed completely from black threads of energy that were constantly moving, containing swirls of glowing embers that swam beneath the thin mist that rose up from the craft.

“Probably,” I shrugged. “It should be okay. Not a lot of mass, mostly watertight. Why don’t you give it a try?”

“Mostly?” Worthy asked while raising a single eyebrow. “Ah, fuck it. I’m not going to drown in five feet of water.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about drowning,” said Tiller. “The local marine life is probably just as aggressive as the rest of the fauna in the area. Who knows what could be beneath this seemingly peaceful water. What sleeps in the depths. What ...”

Tiller’s voice got deeper and more theatrical as he finished.

“Cute,” Worthy interrupted. He cut the rope and began to push the boat across the sand before jumping into it with an easy grace. The boat silently slid over the waves.

Worthy stood still for a few seconds before shifting his weight from foot to foot, barely rocking the boat. Even as his stomping became more vigorous the craft remained remarkably stable.

“Seems sturdy enough,” he said. “Are you sure you want to do this now, though? It’ll be dark well before we make it across. Bridgette and I brought camping supplies, I hope the rest of you did as well.”

“Normally, I’d agree with you,” Catayla added, “but we don’t have the time to wait. We’ve rested long enough.”

The tall, blue-scaled scout jumped up into the boat beside Worthy and turned to look at the rest of us. Her weight shifted the boat slightly, but I was gaining confidence the craft could actually support us all.

“Your physical stats should allow you to easily skip a single night of rest,” she said, “and if we make good time, and have a little luck, we should meet up with my comrades well before the moon reaches its highest point.”

“I think we’re all in,” said the statuesque blonde, Bridgette. “I’ve lost friends to get here, and I’m not ready to turn back now.”

“Thank you,” said Catayla. “I know you’ve lost more than most, but all of us have lost something. We all stand to lose a lot more if we do not complete this mission.”

Catayla stood up straight, highlighting her intimidating height, before taking a moment to make eye contact with each of us. The blue scales on her cheeks glittered in the fading light.

“Something has obviously gone wrong at the containment zone,” She continued. “And if we don’t find out what has happened, and help put a stop to it, then the whole area may be in danger. Everything you care about could be gone, we have to keep moving.”

“We’re with you,” said Tiller. “I’m not sure what’s at stake, really, but I do know I’d rather be doing something rather than twiddling my thumbs, as fun as that can be.”

“Well then,” Worthy said. “Are you all going to join me on this pleasure craft, or should I wait for you to hug it out first? Don’t say I kept you waiting.”

As everyone climbed onto the boat, I was struck by the grace each of them displayed. The physical improvements made by the system allowed almost everyone in the party to move with fluid and precise motions. Even casual movement betrayed the coordination and strength generally only seen in professional athletes and dancers.

I jumped forward, covering twice the length of my body. I landed upright on the stern of the small boat, causing a few splashes against the smoldering hull.

Before the system, I’d never really taken pleasure in physical activity. I’d kept in shape, of course, but I’d long ago lost that childlike joy that could be found in just moving. It was wonderful just to exist, despite all the suffering and loss. My depression slipped away as I became lost in the physicality. It was exhilarating to explore these new limits.

“Show off,” said Tiller.

“I might be able to take gold in the long jump,” I said. “But I’ve got nothing on those Jedi reflexes of yours.”

“Actually,” said Tiller. “I wanted to talk to you about that. Once we start moving, talk with me for a minute, okay? You haven’t spent any of your stat gains from the battle, have you?”

“No,” I shook my head. “I was planning on just putting all of them into Intellect. It seems the most efficient use, as it also increases Might by a small amount. Anything else would feel like a waste.”

“Just trust me,” said Tiller. “If this works you’re probably going to kick yourself. You'll definitely kick yourself if you don't try it, and you find out later that it works.”

I agreed to consult Tiller before spending any of my unallocated stats. I then used the eldritch energy that permeated the air to create a set of four oars.

I took one set of paddles, while Worthy, Bridgett, and Catayla took the others. With our increased strength, I estimated it would probably take less than twenty minutes to reach the other shore. I wished I could still try out for crew.

“Listen,” said Tiller. He sat down beside me and began whispering so quietly that I probably wouldn’t have been able to understand him if it hadn’t been for the increased perception I gained from my Hierophant class.

“Do you remember how you told me you got the Able Learner feat?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said. “Why are we whispering?”

“I …” he began. “I don’t really know, I guess I just figured you’d want to keep being secretive with your build.”

“Thanks,” I said loud enough for everyone to hear. “I think we’re all past that point. If we’re going to be a team, I think we need to share this kind of info.”

I notice a few eyes turn toward me, but no one interjected. Catayla noticed me with narrowed eyes, her vertical pupils were especially disconcerting when she narrowed them like that.

“Ok,” said Tiller. “During the tutorial, most of us got feats from focusing on a single stat. In fact, the tutorial encouraged it. Mine is Heightened Reflexes, it doubles my reaction speeds. It’s basically a straight multiplier for my reaction stat.”

“Damn,” I whistled, “that’s pretty good.”

“You should try putting three points into Reaction, see what happens.”

“Yeah, I’m still not sure. I feel like I’m throwing away stat points if I skip Intellect. Besides, I’ve already gotten a tutorial feat, I’d be a bit upset if it didn’t work.”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Catayla said. “Such feats are a crutch given to the newly initiated, they are powerful, and you shouldn’t scorn them so easily.”

“Are you saying I should follow Tiller’s advice?”

“The rules of my order forbid me from giving natives specific information on feats and stats, other than what is given in the tutorial. The tutorial you never had …”

“Oh, shit,” I said. The realization finally dawned on me. “I never finished the …”

I didn’t wait anymore, immediately assigning three points into my Reaction stat.

Congratulations! You have put three points into a single stat before completing the tutorial!! You have unlocked the feat(s) –

Heightened Reflexes ® - Having focused on Reaction during the earliest part of your training you now find that your body reacts to your commands more quickly than you had ever imagined. Your reaction times are reduced by half. This effectively doubles the gains you receive from the reaction feat!

I looked over at Catayla and then turned my head to make eye contact with Tiller. I smiled and nodded my head.

“Heightened Reflexes? Did it work?”

The look on my face must have given it away because I soon heard a mix of groans and cheers.

“Of all the fucking luck,” said Worthy. “Not only are you the only one of us with a class, you also have a fancy familiar and now … cheat codes. It’s hardly fair to the rest of us slobs.”

I ignored Worthy, instead, turning back towards Tiller.

“So, what do you think I should do with my next three points?”

“Fair question,” Tiller said, “I don’t imagine it will take you long to level if you’re only level six. Might would be —”

“Oh, no,” I said. “I’ve already got them. I receive an extra unallocated stat per level from one of my feats, so those three levels gave me a total of six points.”

“Jesus save me,” said Worthy throwing his arms up dramatically. “I’d be outa here if this boat wasn’t the size of postage stamp.”

“Agility is my lowest stat,” I said, “and I’ve already found a way to raise Might. Focus would probably be the most useful for my new abilities, though.”

“Well,” said Tiller. “Obviously you should take all of them eventually. Personally, I think Focus would be the best idea, considering… everything.”

He casually glanced at the kingfisher on my shoulder before quickly looking away. The bird ignored Tiller’s gaze, still feigning sleep.

“I’ll hold out for now,” I said. “A relaxing boat ride is exactly what I need to clear my mind.”

It’s too bad things never work out the way we plan.