Mrs Wu’s story took far longer than it took me to finish my food. Thanks to Parallel Processing, I was able to eavesdrop on the people around us, even as I focused on her words and participated in the conversation. That way, I not only had her perspective but was able to glean some more information and largely corroborate her story. Sure, it was only corroboration from the others living here but it felt better than nothing.

Her story was both surprising and roughly what I had expected, as contradictory as that felt. It was surprising because I hadn’t expected anyone to be able to make people work together that quickly and on that scale, not without some idea of what was going on. And yet, the elderly of the small, primarily south-east Asian, enclave had done just that. They had managed to gather the people fleeing the burning buildings, pulled them together into a cohesive whole and given direction, preventing fires from spreading and destroying the Shattered as quickly as possible.

At one point, I had to offer her my condolences, when she, with a mask of dispassion, spoke of her husband. He had turned Shattered and Mrs Wu had been forced to strike him down to defend herself. While she managed to keep her face under control, the second or two she closed her eyes to compose herself gave away just how badly that had hurt her.

And she wasn’t the only one who had lost loved ones that night. They had managed to keep things together better than most, that was why they had this many people, almost a quarter of all people living in the area had turned Shattered. Before the locals had managed to put them down, only about sixty percent of the people were left. It was a horrifying number if looked at in a vacuum but from what I had seen, they had been incredibly successful, which made it only more horrifying.

But that was what should have clued me in on Mrs Wu’s story. The state of the area we were in should have told me what had happened even before she gave me her side of the story. Given the devastation I had witnessed on my path through the city, the number of dead and the few survivors I had noticed, the small enclave here was akin to a miracle, something only made more impressive by the obvious absence of the stench of divine magic. Elsewhere, many buildings had fallen victim to flames, and some of those had been further destroyed by the two earthquakes, but here I hadn’t noticed any burned buildings. This success was something I wanted to support if only to make sure one community was not dominated by divine magic and kept from the clutches of those who dealt the opium of the people.

Amusingly, the people had a reasonably good baseline understanding of the System, though their introduction had mostly been done by trial and error. That was why they didn’t really use the Observe-skill, the sensation when it was used on another of the community enough to keep it from being commonly used. I had to hide a grin when Mrs Wu likened it to strip-searching someone. Sure, it gave some valuable information but it was invasive and those you did it to would likely be tempted to punch you in the nose. Though, I noticed a small glint in her eyes when I mentioned that there were ways to avoid the skill usage being noticed. She didn’t ask questions about it, but I had a feeling she would in a more private setting.

“As I mentioned, there are multiple ways I would be willing to help,” I began, once her side of the story had wound down. She gave me an encouraging nod and I told her about my ideas, that I was willing to teach them the basics of magic as I understood them and that I could help a few of them gain a couple of levels while making sure that the more powerful threats in the area were dealt with for now.

When I spoke about the sewers and the insane amount of vermin-turned-monster down there, I could see her face pale. Just like me, she could imagine how impossible it would be to push back a massive swarm of rats unless you had some sort of area-of-effect weapons. Or rapid-fire weapons at the level of a machine gun, but I doubted they had anything like that if those even excised any longer.

The thought brought me to the question of what had happened to guns, and given that I was somewhat confident Mrs Wu had some in her possession, I asked about it.

“Guns are problematic,” her face scrunched up in distaste. “It seems that something strange is going on with the gunpowder. Our tests have shown that the charge is either far too little, leading to misfires or little more impact than a slingshot, or the charge is far too energetic, leading to accidents and destroying the weapons outright. One of the others almost lost a finger due to an exploding revolver. After the first mishap, we went to simple weapons and did a few tests on guns. Those showed about a ten percent chance that the ammunition works as normal, making guns utterly unreliable until we figure out what is going on,” she explained, letting out a sigh at the end. It sounded quite bad and given my previous suppositions regarding chemical reactions and the introduction of Astral Power into materials, it was about what I had expected. If gasoline had turned energetic enough to actually explode and a whole lot of buildings had spontaneously ignited thanks to their furnaces going haywire, it was only logical that gunpowder would be affected, too.

Sharing my ideas only got me a wry smile and a shrug of Mrs Wu’s shoulders, alongside the question if I had any way to detect those changes I was speaking of, to make ascertain which ammunition was safe and which was not. When I had to admit that I doubted I could d that just yet, she simply nodded, waving off my theory as inconsequential. Which, at this point, it really was. Knowledge was wonderful but knowledge without an immediate, practical application was pretty much useless.

“How long do you plan to stay?” Mrs Wu asked, having clearly understood that I wasn’t willing to become part of their community.

“I don’t know, a day, maybe two or three, but that would only work if I move into one of the abandoned buildings. Otherwise, this environment is far too loud, crowded and stressful for me,” I admitted, getting a chuckle from her. Here, everyone was banding together in order to survive, while I was looking for a space of my own, searching for peace and quiet.

But despite her amusement, she nodded, suggesting that I could start with the lessons immediately until I would head out during the night. As expected, she had picked up on my habit of moving during the night but hadn’t asked about it. Maybe she had even picked up on my active avoidance of any sunny spot, but I wasn’t sure about that one.

“Whatever you are willing to give, I would be grateful. How would you go about the teaching of magic?” she asked, ending the topic of the duration of my stay.

“I believe a short explanation for everyone who is interested, so people have the basic idea before moving on to teach those with actual potential would be best. Wielding magic is like every other skill, ninety percent effort, alongside ten percent talent and yet, those ten percent talent are crucial,” I grinned, already considering how to best structure a basic magic lesson. I wanted people to turn to their own magic, their own efforts, instead of taking the lazy way and go beg the gods. For that, the people here needed to know what they could do on their own, what power was inherent to them.

“That does sound like a good idea,” she agreed, before excusing herself to organise things. It seemed it would take a bit of time for word to travel, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t get some work done already. There were maybe ten people in the open foyer and I simply asked loudly if anyone had a trait that granted affinity to one of the elements, or any affinities, really. If there were, I might be able to have an assistant during my later lesson, someone would possibly show some early results.

Just simple theory wouldn’t get people hooked and while I could show off some of my powers, the people here didn’t know me. If someone who had been powerless was suddenly able to do something they couldn’t, their interest would skyrocket.

When one of the younger women, maybe in her late teens, and one of the older boys both raised their hands, I couldn’t hide a grin on my face. If this worked out, the gods wouldn’t get their clutches on this community.