Greg's eyes widened, before he frowned, raising an eyebrow at Tessa. "Okay, very dramatic. Props. But you do realize that still tells me pretty much nothing, right? I'm going to need some details."

Tessa sighed. "It's complicated. Essentially, two years ago, a significant portion of the population went insane, acting like animals or maniacs or both. All the electronics went out, fried, like they'd been hit by an EMP. A bunch of people got superpowers as well, including the crazy ones. Not long after the sane people managed to band together, setting up a few safe zones, the ferals, which is what we call the others, began to mutate, turning into monsters. Even worse, so did the animals, including insects and vermin, growing larger and fiercer. The old cities are still relatively safe, but the wild is ruled by swarms of terrifying beasts." Tessa explained, her expression becoming more and more serious as she continued. "Besides all that, another portion of the population went unconscious, as if they were in comas. The ones who weren't killed by the ferals also began to mutate, but differently, turning into rock and plant-like things that act like traps when you get near them."

Greg frowned. "You mentioned something about not having food and water, implying that I should have mutated. How is that linked?"

Tessa nodded. "During the initial chaos, some people had a hard time finding food, but strangely, despite the fact that they weren't eating, they weren't getting hungry either. At first, people thought it was a blessing. They no longer had to scramble for food, instead just focusing on finding places to stay safe, hiding from the ferals. But then… they began to notice changes. Maybe they began to grow more hair, or scales. Some people developed tails, some horns, some claws, anything you could imagine. Some saw it as an advantage, embracing the change, turning into creatures much like the ferals, just as strong, but smarter, which is why we believe ferals and the others mutate for the same reasons. However, the majority rejected the mutations, and food became a priority again. It's common to see people with a few scales, or the beginnings of a horn around the safe zone, remnants of their struggle with hunger." Tessa gave him another up and down look. "The fact that you've managed to escape seemingly any mutation is rather surprising."

"Well, you seem to have come out of it pretty well yourself." Greg responded.

"Well, I am a shapeshifter. Even if I don't eat, I don't need to worry about my body changing on me." Tessa retorted with a slight smirk.

"Fuck, right… Okay, then, what's up with that? How do people have superpowers?" Greg asked, before looking down at his arm. "Shit, why do I have superpowers!?!"

Tessa sighed, shaking her head. "No one knows. They just appeared along with everything else. Some people think it's a gift from God, some just random chance, but either way, there's a strong elitism in it. Supers tend to think they're better than normal people, especially since they're really the only ones who can face the ferals head on with any decent chance of surviving. Since everyone else has to depend on them, they're practically worshiped in the safe zones. Even if they act like complete douchebags, no one has the courage to protest."

"I take it you don't agree then?" Greg asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tessa sighed again, before answering in a slightly frustrated tone. "It just bothers me how quickly we went from 'all men are created equal' to 'please take care of me oh wise and glorious master'. What's the point of having beliefs if you just drop them at the first sign of trouble?"

Greg shrugged. "That's just human nature though, right? Like, throughout history, people have consistently chosen safety over freedom. Hell, the Romans made a whole, giant empire based on that concept! Pax Romana and all that. I mean, I'm not saying it's right, but… it's understandable."

"I know but… I thought we were different, you know? I thought- I thought we had principles. But the moment things went bad… we just crumbled. It's just disappointing." Tessa complained.

Greg sighed. "Yeah, I can see that… Alright, enough nihilism. Tell me about this Downtown Clan thing."

"Right, the Downtown Clan, the God's Blessed Holy Land, and the Young Blood Paradise make up the big three safety zones. There are a few other minor safety zones around, but they aren't really comparable to the big three, mostly consisting of lawless, vicious supers who solely want to dominate the people around them. The Downtown Clan is, predictably, based in the downtown business district. We're arguably the most prosperous safety zone in the city." Tessa explained.

Greg nodded appreciatively. "Alright then, last question. Why did you come all the way over here? How did you end up in my classroom?"

"So, as supers, we're the ones responsible for heading out of the safety zones to collect resources. We find food, seeds, water, anything to supplement the zone's resources. Me and my team came here to see if we could find any salvageable electrical components or technical books, but along the way, we ran into a pack of ferals. We had to run, and along the way, I got split off. I ran into a random building and I ended up hiding in your classroom. I was slightly freaked out to see a random dude sleeping at a desk, and went to check you out, and then, well, you know the rest." Tessa explained.

"Ah yes, the 'let's put my oh so vulnerable face right in front of the random weird thing in a world that's apparently full of monsters' approach. Brilliant." Greg mocked her slightly, feeling a bit more comfortable after they'd talked for a while.

"Would you have preferred I stab you?" Tessa retorted, holding up her arm as it turned into a sharp blade.

"No, but I am a big proponent of the 'poke the suspicious object with a long stick' approach. Weird ball of fur? Poke it with a stick. Suspiciously rustling paper bag? Poke it with a stick. Random dude sleeping in the middle of a disaster zone? Poke him with a stick. Save your face from injury, two out of three times." Greg listed off, ignoring the deadly glint twinkling in Tessa's eye.

Tessa seemed to seriously consider stabbing him, before ultimately giving up the idea, turning her arm back to normal. She gave him a strange look. "You got used to having a healing factor way too quickly."

"Nah, I just never particularly cared for my life in the first place." Greg shot back with a grin, before pausing. "Shit, that sounded way too depressing… I just meant I've always had a rather cavalier attitude towards death. If I can avoid it, I will, but if it's already coming, why not enjoy it?"

Tessa raised an eyebrow. "Enjoy it?"

"Well, it's something you only get to experience once, right?" Greg explained, seemingly dedicated to digging this hole deeper. "Isn't that something you kind of have to appreciate?"

Tessa just frowned at him, before shaking her head. "You're a strange person."

Tessa went about setting up some makeshift alarms around the house, before barricading them both in one of the bedrooms, after dragging in a second mattress. She threw some blankets and a pillow on it, telling Greg to get some sleep, before climbing into the other bed and curling up. Greg asked her about setting up a watch or something, and she quickly explained that if they did that, they'd either lose travel time or sleep, both of which would increase their chances of running into danger. Additionally, with the alarms she set up, they should have more than enough warning before anything happened.

Unfortunately, Greg didn't seem to be able to sleep anyways. He laid awake, staring at the ceiling as everything Tessa had told him ran through his head. A world full of mutated humans and animals, the few survivors relegated to tiny, defensible areas. A world where superpowers were almost common, and people depended on them to survive. Honestly, Greg was stuck between worrying over how he was going to survive all this, whether his friends were okay, where his uncle was, and geeking out over how freaking awesome it all was! Superpowers! Mutants! Apocalypse! If this was a book or a video game, he'd be all over it!

As much as everything was, you know, objectively awful, it was at least interesting. Much better than the boring, day in, day out grind Greg was living in before. He knew the reality of living in such a world would most likely be a horrible experience, but he couldn't help but see the wonder of it all. *Man, there's something seriously wrong with me.* Greg sighed internally, shaking his head.

He tried yet again to close his eyes and focus on going to sleep, his hand absently stroking his stomach, when he noticed something wrong. He climbed to his feet, creeping over to a nearby mirror, and lifted up his shirt, staring at the reflected image with an expression of extreme distaste. *Where did that come from?!? Where did my chub go!?!* He wondered in shock as he studied his newfound six pack. He quickly pulled off his shirt, eyes widening even more as he took in the changes to his body. Abs, pecs, biceps, everything was hard and defined, as if he'd been working out for years!

*Shit… no wonder it was so easy to climb those walls!* He thought to himself, shaking his head. As they'd journeyed through campus, Tessa had taken them through some pretty intense obstacles, some of which required him to pull his entire body up and through a small window. He'd been clumsy for sure, but he'd still managed to do it, which surprised him. Now though… not so much.

Greg pulled his shirt back on. *Man, this is all so freaking weird! I go unconscious for a couple years, before waking up with muscles and a healing factor? What am I, a main character?* Greg paused as that thought went through his mind. *Crap… I'm dreaming, aren't I? Fucking…* He frowned, pinching his arm. *Well… that hurt. Maybe I'm not dreaming? Fuck it, who knows, who cares. Best to assume not until proven otherwise.* He sighed, shaking his head.

He returned to his bed, yet again attempting to slip into the sweet release of sleep, but to no avail. Eventually he got bored and pulled out his phone, and then… then he got really depressed. *Fuck! All my books were on there!* He groaned in frustration as he dropped the useless piece of technology on the bed, resisting the urge to chuck it out the window. He was fairly certain that'd wake Tessa, and probably a few other things, plus he was hoping maybe someone had figured out how to fix them back at the safe zone. Tessa had said they were looking for salvage electronics at the university.

With the phone a no go, Greg tried to go to sleep again, but he quickly got bored again, picking up the phone absently, before slamming it back down in frustration. *Man, that was an annoying enough instinct when the phone actually worked, let alone now.* He complained, sitting up in the bed and rubbing his eyes. He wanted to sleep, he really did, but he just wasn't tired. *This is what I get for sleeping for two years straight.* He chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

He fell back into the bed, beginning to get really frustrated. *What to do, what to do…* He pondered, his mind drifting towards the thing he usually did when bored in bed, but… he glanced towards where Tessa was sleeping. *Not really an option right now. Unless… maybe if I was really careful?* Greg considered, before shaking his head. *Damnit, no! That's gross! Bad Greg!* He chastised himself, before sighing. *But I have to do something.*

The next morning, Tessa awoke with a yawn, sitting up and stretching. She glanced over towards Greg's bed, her yawn choking in her throat as her eyes widened, staring at him in shock. "Uh, Greg?"

Greg jumped, startled, almost dropping the pile of clothes he was carrying. Noticing it was just her, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, you're up. Ready to go?" He asked, throwing the pile of clothes into the corner.

"What? No!" Tessa shook her head, before pausing. "I mean, yes, but… what is that?!?" She asked incredulously.

"This?" Greg asked, gesturing towards an elaborate structure fabricated from clothing, blankets, a lamp, a few curtain rods, a dresser, and whatever else Greg could find. "It's a fort."

After Tessa had decided to graciously ignore the whole fort thing, she quickly packed up all her gear, disabling her alarms, and they headed out again. They picked their way across the city until about noon, when Tessa found them a place to stop, pulling out a few pieces of jerky, handing some to Greg. He almost rejected, as he didn't really feel hungry, plus he wasn't a huge fan of jerky, but then he remembered what Tessa had told him yesterday and he quickly grabbed the offered food.

He chewed on the tough jerky, glancing up at the sky, before frowning. "Hey, why don't we travel at night? Wouldn't it be easier to hide then?"

Tessa shook her head. "Lots of ferals have developed some sort of night vision, turning nocturnal. Sometimes they even have echolocation, or they can detect heat, making it even harder to hide from them. At least during the day we can find them as easily as they can find us. At night, we might not even know when a feral is tracking us."

"Gotcha, dark is scary, good to know." Greg replied, a slight shiver going down his spine. One of the things he hated most was not knowing whether something was there or not. He quickly decided the day was the best time to travel.

Once they finished their "meal" they set off again. Tessa didn't lead them straight towards the downtown area, instead sticking to the more residential districts until they got closer. Apparently, they were relatively safer than the business districts. The ferals tended to group up in larger buildings, making it more likely that they'd encounter a swarm in those areas. Only relatively weaker ferals and animals tended to live in smaller buildings like houses. Still not things Tessa would feel comfortable fighting one on one, but she felt confident they could at least escape if they had to.

"Wait here." Tessa ordered him once again as she left to scout out the house she'd found for the night.

Greg sighed, leaning against the wall as he waited. He really hoped he could get some sleep tonight, but judging by the fact that he still didn't feel tired, that was beginning to look less and less likely. He wondered if he could find a book or something, just in case. Maybe a pack of cards? He could play solitaire or make a house! Plus, he could carry it around easily, and he couldn't just finish it like a book. Plus, maybe if he could get his own room tonight, he could…

As Greg was lost in thought, he heard a creak from the room beside him. Instantly, he went on guard. Tessa had gone upstairs to look first, as generally ferals nested on the top or bottom floor, so she hadn't searched this floor yet. Greg was scrambling, looking for a place to hide, when a girl rounded the corner, freezing as their eyes met. The girl had to be around thirteen or fourteen and she looked rough. Her clothes were tattered to shreds, barely covering her private parts. Her face was dirty, and there were signs of rough abrasions all over her body, as if something rough had repeatedly scraped her over and over. She was carrying a can of baked beans with a spoon-full halfway to her mouth when she'd frozen, staring at Greg in shock. They stood like that for a good moment, neither one knowing how to react, when Tessa rushed back down the stairs. "We have to go!" She hissed, grabbing Greg's arm to drag him out of the house.

"No!" The girl yelled, dropping the can and leaping forward to latch onto Greg. "Please, save me! Savemesavemesaveme!" She begged, tears and snot running down her face. Suddenly, a ROAR came from the upper floor, and the girl screamed, falling to the ground, twitching in pain, what looked like the tattoo of a collar lighting up around her throat.

Greg hesitated, not sure what to do, when Tessa yanked him again. "Let's go!" She insisted, dragging him out the door.

They ran a few steps, before Greg pulled to a stop. "Fuck!" He groaned in frustration, before turning and running back to the house.

"What are you doing!?!" Tessa asked in horror.

"I can't just abandon a little girl who begged for my help!" Greg replied as he shot back into the house. A few seconds later he shot right back out, tumbling across the ground, sending up little puffs of smoke which lingered for a moment before rushing back to him. "Ugh, sharkman strong." He groaned as he climbed to his feet.

From the house, a feral appeared, glaring at Greg with red eyes. Its skin was rough and gray, like a shark's, and its arms were long enough to hang down by its knees, not including the long, sharp claws that hung off the end of them. He let out a low growl, pulling back his lips to reveal a long line of shark teeth.

The moment Greg was back on his feet, the sharkman was on him again, swinging one of his long limbs up, slashing across his chest, taking off an arm, and sending him tumbling backwards in a spray of smoke once again! "GREG!!!" Tessa yelled, her arms transforming into blades as her legs gained what looked like a backwards knee, letting her push forward forcefully, flying at the sharkman with gritted teeth. Her blades sliced at him viscously, but they only left a few light wounds.

The sharkman quickly brought his arm back down, backhanding Tessa and sending her tumbling into a nearby wall. She quickly jumped back to her feet and shot towards him again, though this time more carefully, obviously slightly stunned from the blow. She wove through the sharkman's furious strikes, slashing and stabbing as she attempted to break through his tough skin. Strangely, the sharkman seemed almost hesitant to hurt her, despite staring at her with hungry eyes. He only used the dull sides of his claws, as if he was scared of actually hurting her.

Greg groaned as he climbed to his feet, pulling his arm out of a hole, before rushing back into the fight. *Wait, hole?* Greg thought to himself, distracted for a moment before the sharkman's vicious claws struck him again, lopping off another arm. *Damnit!* Greg cursed, pulling his newly regenerated arm out of another hole, before pausing in confusion as he looked down. *Why did-*

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted as he heard a scream! Looking up in horror, he watched as the sharkman beat Tessa to the ground, knocking her unconscious before pressing his hand against her neck. A weird glow appeared as slowly a tattoo began to etch itself against her skin! "No!" Greg yelled, rushing at the sharkman yet again! He didn't know what the tattoo would do, but based on how it affected the girl, it wasn't good.

Greg managed to land a punch on the sharkman, barely doing any damage, but the glow disappeared and the tattoo broke, disappearing. The sharkman roared in anger, slashing Greg with a backhanded strike, sending him tumbling away, before restarting the process. Greg let out a roar of his own, frustration clear in his expression as he quickly climbed to his feet and charged again, landing another weak blow that did nothing but interrupt whatever the sharkman was trying to do. No matter what Greg did, he couldn't hurt him. They were stuck in a stalemate, where the sharkman couldn't keep Greg down, but Greg couldn't stop the sharkman either.

Greg climbed to his feet yet again, watching in defeat as the sharkman began to slowly etch the tattoo into Tessa's neck again, feeling helpless. He knew that if they kept going, the odds of another, more vicious feral appearing would increase. He prepared to charge again, unwilling to give up, when he caught sight of the hole he'd pulled his arm out of and a crazy idea entered Greg's mind. *If that happened because of…* The thought flashed through his mind as a plan began to form. Taking a deep breath, he charged the sharkman once again. *Fuck I hope this works!* He ran up, laying a useless punch into the sharkman's back yet again, interrupting the process and shattering the tattoo. The sharkman roared in rage and frustration, turning to glare at this annoying cockroach that just wouldn't die! He raised his claw once again, slashing down viciously, attempting to split the annoying bug in half!

It was the moment Greg had been waiting for. His eyes locked tight on the descending claw, he dodged to the side, holding out his arm. As easily as a knife through butter, the arm separated from his body with a hot, stinging sensation, flying away before poofing into smoke. The smoke seemed to pause for a moment before flying back towards Greg. Ignoring the pain, desperate to act before the smoke could reach him, Greg rushed forward, pressing his severed arm hard against the sharkman's side! *Come on, work, work!* Greg pleaded desperately. The sharkman snorted in disdain, reaching to grab Greg with his other arm, when suddenly he froze. Horror painted the sharkman's face as the smoke rushed into its body, and a deep pain set in. He let out a cough of blood and his limbs went weak. Slowly, the sharkman began to fall, collapsing backwards. As he fell, Greg's arm was pulled out of his chest with a wet sucking sound, revealing a gigantic, bloody hole. A few final gasps escaped his lips as blood poured out of him, before the light left his eyes and he sunk into the cold arms of death.

"Fuuuuuck…" Greg groaned, collapsing to the ground himself, his heart pounding from everything that just happened. He looked down at his blood soaked arm, before shaking his head in derision. "Killing with healing. Isn't that some bullshit." He muttered, before a mad giggle burst out of him. His body shook as he gave himself over to the insane mirth, a mix of relief, adrenaline, and a strange sadism making him unable to control himself.