Nate led the way back to New Nashville. Most of them were silent, with the occasional order as they snuck through the streets. With monsters still lurking about, it was in their best interest to avoid any more fights. Athena had healed their wounds, but not their exhaustion.

  Colt crept behind, the dense brush and trees now littering the streets made it easy to sneak; his body’s enhanced abilities made it even better. Not a lot of thought had to go into it to follow Nate’s lead; the guy was reliable as always, and it was nice to be under his lead.

  Thankfully, the trip back was quiet. Just some deer, a rogue orc that was a simple matter to avoid, and not much more.

  It wasn’t long before they reached the grand stadium that was made of New Nashville.

  As they approached the door, Colt opened up his status sheet.

  ———

  Name: Colt King | Race: Basic Human

  Icon: Nike | Class: Edict Carver (II)

  Faction: New Nashville

  Level: 43

  Edicts:

  Cut (Greater)

  Movement (Minor)

  Skills:

  *Inspect* (Intermediate) - Level 15

  *Knives/Daggers Proficiency* (Intermediate) - Level 15

  *Meditate* (Intermediate) - Level 11

  *Phantom’s Gambit* (Basic) - Level 5

  *Soul And Mind Fortitude* (Basic) - Level 7

  Olympic Mandate (Basic) - Level 1

  Swords Proficiency (Basic) - Level 6

  Hide Status (Basic) - Level 5

  Stats:

  Strength: 24

  Endurance: 41

  Dexterity: 84

  Intelligence: 10

  Willpower: 15

  Soul: 102

  Unassigned Stat Points: 6

  ———

  They were decent gains. His level had climbed quite high; the Icon presented its own set of challenges. As he stared, he puzzled over his stat points. Levels, he assumed, would slow eventually. While grinding out stats was possible, it didn’t come as freely. The higher stats would be even more difficult to move.

  Colt rubbed the back of his head as Nate hailed the nearest guard—going to deliver a summed-up report of their situation.

  He was more than happy to let the man take care of it. Nate was good at this stuff, especially when Colt was tired and ground down.

  Crossroads.

  What to do here. Endurance was lagging behind, Intelligence and Willpower—well, they seemed to feed more into magic skills than his. Strength was practically gone.

  Dexterity… With Movement now being easier to control, how much dexterity did he need? The Olympic Mandate worked as a stat boost and would increase as he developed the skill…

  Whether tired or interested in seeing how far Soul could take him alone, Colt threw all six points into the Stat. Better to specialize, especially since it was his biggest strength. Next, though, came an overall look at his progress. Both levels, the gain of his Icon and his Edicts, were moving along well. But his skills.

  They seemed a bit weak, didn’t they?

  More training. A better grasp of those fundamentals could be a big difference, especially if they led to the further evolution of Edict Carver. His first day in New Nashville had been a day of rest. Happiness at being outside of the Endless Alleys… Now, though, he better understood what dangers lurked in this new world. The monsters, the dungeons, and countless other things.

  Gods.

  To survive here meant to take advantage of everything he could. Had things been different, had he been weaker, he would’ve died. These skills were survival tools, and he needed to sharpen and hone them just like his edicts.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Colt rubbed at his eyes as Nate finished speaking with the guard.

  “We’re to head to the White House straight away and deliver our report,” Nate said, giving a good look around at everyone. “If anyone would like to sit it out, that is fine. They don’t need all of us for the debriefing, and I’m willing to go alone if need be.”

  The group exchanged looks.

  Colt decided to take him up on it: “Sure, thank you.” He gave a small nod. Nick and Julia also took him up. Sarah, it seemed, was happy to go along and help.

  With that settled and Nate taking the full weight of the responsibilities on this, Colt prepared to call it a night.

  They went to the guard, and the guy quickly checked their citizenship. Just to ensure they were permitted into the walls. Not that anyone was aware of an opposition group… Then again, there had to be, right? People would form into groups of bandits and try to take advantage of the chaos. Colt never thought to ask.

  In every depiction of an apocalypse, that kind of lawlessness was inevitable.

  Yet the people here weren’t talking much of it. Or maybe they were. Colt was too tired to think.

  As he passed into the stadium with his group and they reached the playing field, a.k.a. the village in which everyone lived and made to split their ways, Nick pulled him back with a hand on his shoulder.

  “Mind a quick chat, partner?”

  Colt gave him bleary eyes.

  “I’ll make it quick.”

  A nod. He didn’t feel like it, but sometimes, when you’re more tired than you can imagine, there are things you just have to do. And he owed Nick this, at least. Especially if they were going to be diving into dungeons together again… Well. Maybe this was Nick saying he was done. After such a near-death experience of getting trapped in a higher-level dungeon, that wouldn’t be too crazy of a conclusion to reach.

  The rest of the group departed, and Nick pulled him closer to the town; eventually settling near some chairs and fire, an old dude with a long gray beard was busy away strumming at his guitar, giving them a nod as they sat.

  “Tim,” Nick gave the guy a nod.

  He got a gruff, ‘yuh,’ back.

  Nick settled in, stapling his fingers as he looked at Colt. For his part, Colt settled back into his spot, letting the warmth of the fire settle into his bones; it was too much after a day like today. This moment was a balm to his wounded soul.

  Nick worked his jaw for a bit, thinking about what he wanted to say.

  Then he said it.

  “Edicts are that powerful, huh?”

  “Yeah, we all need them. Julia, Sarah, and Nate—I think if we stick together and keep going into dungeons, it’s the safest way for us to keep going. I have this skill: Meditation. It’s uncommon. So maybe with some guidance and time now that I understand it better, everyone else can pick up my skill…” Colt trailed off, rubbing at his eyes.

  “But how did you know about what my refract could do?”

  “My investment in Soul and other skills. I had an idea. Maybe my class, too. I’m not sure. Why do you want to be a dungeoneer, anyway?” Colt leaned back in his chair as the old man plucked more notes; he really took a look at Nick, now. The guy was intent on this conversation, his eyes focused, his scruffy face narrowed in a look of study.

  “I was a failure man. Tried making my way as a musician, running gig to gig. Played here and there, but nobody wanted to listen much, nobody paid me much. About five years of that. They say if you love something, you can practice it was much as you want, can give your soul to it. But what do you do when you do that, when you lay down your life for your passion, and it don’t love ya back?” Nick gave a rueful smile and looked at the old man playing by their fire. “…You keep trying and praying, right?”

  “Went through something like that. Though, I didn’t have a thing I loved,” Colt paused. Because he never found the thing he loved. Just felt the weight of the world on him, his own unworth. Couldn’t make money. Couldn’t hold down a job for long.

  This place had freed that shackle and let him view his life in a different perspective, and that’s why he pushed now. Some kind of madness in getting caught up in it all.

  “So you’re going at it for power too,” Nick confirmed.

  “Freedom. I think,” Colt corrected. “Power is freedom.”

  “That it is. So you see me, I see you, right?” Nick looked at the old man, who’d stopped plucking, his eyebrows raised—Nick gestured with a smile, and old Tim handed on over the guitar; Nick drummed a hand on the front and then started to play a tune.

  It was there in a second, you could tell. The way his hands plucked at the string, the smoothness as he began to ring out a melody, his eyes and attention still on Colt. In his hands, the guitar was a well-worn friend, a companion he’d never forget, and the music was pretty enough so that Colt thought it surprising for him to have never taken off in Nashville.

  “Alright. When you get your power, what’ll you use it for.”

  “Like you, I wanna live free. I wanna live my way. I don’t wanna go bar to bar, playing my heart out for hours only to go straight back to living out of my car. I’m not new to hard work. If that’s what it takes, that’s what I’ll give. Else I might as well be dead like the rest of the folk who didn’t make it out of the tutorial with me.”

  Colt paused, and leaned forward. Hearing about someone else’s first dungeon…

  “What was it like?”

  “Meat grinder. A whole bar of us. I was first set for a gig that night. We got whisked away to this place with water up to our ankles in the middle of some mountains. Thing was, one of those mountains had a light. Another thing was that the water wasn’t always up to our ankles, and there was stuff underneath it ready to grab and drown folks. Get to the mountain. Fight the boss. Get out. Five of us made it. Five of forty.”

  Colt settled back in his chair, his heart beating a little quicker. The old man gave a nod, and looked at Nick. “If’n he didn’t get us out, I’d be dead. This guy killed the boss when we got there.” Old Tom whispered, his hand shaking.

  Nick didn’t say anything; he let the guitar talk for him, the melody slipping into a sad song as he went. Near the end, he got to the point of why he dragged Colt away from the group. It wasn’t to quit but to get an understanding with another. Then, after a half-hour of going over their lives and getting to know one another better, Nick set up some time to train the next day.

  Training would be key for all of them. He said he’d talk to Julia and get the odd-mage on board, and all give could work on developing their skills. Nick wanted to keep dungeon diving, and so did Colt, so it was decided.

  When he went to bed that night, he had a plan in his head, and when he woke up the next day and headed to the edge of the stadium, bright and early with a cup of coffee for him and Nate, who’d already went with Sarah. By the time Colt got there, Julia was also present in an oversized hoody and a pissed expression, Nick next to her scratching the back of their head.