Chapter 83

  The bar had grown quieter as the discussion wound down, the low murmur of other survivors outside pushed through from the entrance. Dust motes hung in the slanted light cutting through the grimy windows, catching in the air above half-finished glasses and scarred wooden tables. Maps had been spread, folded, unfolded again—pencil marks circling rift sites, rough lines sketched where walls might rise, arrows pointing to danger zones and supply routes. It had taken time to get everyone on the same page, longer still to make them understand that they were behind schedule, that everyone was in danger and nobody will come to save them. This needed to happen now. Or the town will not survive.

  Alice stood when the last question finally faded, resting her hands on the table for a moment as if to steady herself. She felt the weight of their eyes, felt the unfamiliar tension of speaking not as a bystander, but as someone who had a place in this fragile structure they were building. Raime remained seated beside her, silent, watchful, letting her have the floor.

  “We’ve covered the what and the where,” Alice said, her voice calm but firm, carrying without needing to rise. “So now I want to be very clear about the who. About responsibility.”

  She turned first to Alessandro, who had been leaning over the map with a nearly perpetual frown, already measuring distances and materials in his head. “You’ll coordinate construction. Not just the wall itself, but the priorities. We can’t build everything at once, so you decide what comes first—reinforcement points near the largest rifts, barricades along the narrow streets, fallback positions if something breaks through. Use the people who know how to work and anyone willing to help. Teach the rest what they need to know. This city doesn’t need beautiful walls. It needs walls that don’t fall.”

  Alessandro nodded once, slow and deliberate. “I’ll start organizing today. I’ll have runners and materials by afternoon.”

  “Good,” Alice replied without hesitation.

  Her gaze shifted to Michele, the boxeur’s frame was impressive, but looked samll beside Alessandro and Raime. His hands, scarred and taped from fighting the monsters, were folded together, knuckles white. “You handle the fighters. Patrols, response teams, training rotations. Not everyone needs to be a killer, but everyone needs to know how to hold a line, how to retreat without panicking, how to protect someone. Discipline matters more than bravery here. You see someone reckless, you pull them back. You see someone freezing up, you pair them with someone steady.”

  Michele exhaled through his nose, then gave a sharp nod. “I will form capable teams, I won’t let them turn into a mob.”

  “They put you in charge, you have their respect and experience in teaching already, this will be different but I trust you to se it through.” Alice said.

  She turned next to Pino, who had been unusually quiet, his fingers absently tracing the rim of an empty cup. “Medical stays central. For now. We will need triage points near the walls in the future, but for now if you can spare some people to accompany some of the teams to offer field support it would be great. Stockpile what you can, ration what you must, and teach basic first aid to anyone willing to learn. People are going to get hurt. That’s not a matter of if, but when.”

  Pino met her eyes, something sober and resolved settling in his expression. “We really could use the old hospital.” He said while shifting his eyes on Raime.

  “We’ll clear it,” Alice said, turning on her boyfriend. “Right?”

  “I can clear it, but it’s far from the plaza, we need to establish a safe route before anyone think of approaching, there is a rift in between the two location that will have to be dealt with, but I’ll see to it.”

  The old doctor’s face looked relieved for once. “Thank you, that will save lives.”

  Raime just nodded at him.

  Finally, Alice looked ar Flavio, who shifted uncomfortably under her attention, already half-regretting his reluctant acceptance of the role. “Scavenging isn’t just about grabbing whatever isn’t nailed down. It’s information. You map what’s left, what’s dangerous, what’s already stripped. You decide routes that don’t cross active rifts, and you don’t send people alone, they need to get accompanied by fighters, so you’ll have to organize with Michele. If something looks wrong, you pull back and report. Nothing we recover is worth a life we can’t replace.”

  Flavio swallowed, then nodded, jaw tight. “I’ll keep them smart. Or try to, at least.”

  Alice straightened, letting her gaze pass over all of them together now. “We’re not doing this for fun. We’re doing this because if any one of these parts fails, the rest follow. Raime will handle clearing the worst of what’s out there, but he can’t be everywhere. We need to step up, it’s nearly a week and no one came to save us, or even to help. This city will survive only because each of us makes it survive.”

  For a moment, no one spoke. Then chairs scraped softly as the leaders stood, one by one, the weight of their roles settling visibly onto their shoulders. Alessandro gathered a couple of the maps, already calling for two names as he headed for the door. Michele rose, cracking his neck as he murmured about assembling teams. Pino paused only long enough to say a quick “thank you” to Raime again before moving with brisk purpose. Flavio lingered a second, then followed, muttering to himself as if rehearsing a speech.

  As the bar emptied, the noise of the plaza seeped back in—voices rising, feet moving, the city beginning, however shakily, to organize itself.

  Alice let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Raime glanced at her, something unreadable in his eyes, then he stepped up and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “I knew you could do it.” He said to her with a smile. “Not because of your class, but because you have a real gift in making things work together.”

  She huffed and stepped in to hug him. “Well, my skills helped me too, they let me see things I would have overlooked before, the analysing of the maps, despite being something I had never done before came to me so easily it’s scary.”

  “Yea, I have a couple of skills given to me directly by the System, they are strange though, they give you the knowledge to do something you had no idea how to do before, but in the end it’s up to you to master your new abilities.”

  “About that, what do we do with today training?”

  “Mmm, I’ll say that we need to revisit out timetables. You and dad will have the most to do around here, but I can give you pointers in the evening, in the meantime I’ll train up mom and the boys.”

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Alice was a bit taken by surprise from the news. “What do you mean?”

  “What do you mean, what do I mean? If you have to stay here organizing the city, you’ll have to train later.” Raime said with amusement.

  “Please don’t tell me I’ll have to go out and let some more giant monster nearly bite my head off, I’m fine with helping here, it’s something I know I can do, but I’m not much of a fighter, you know it.” Alice tone was nearly imploring by the end.

  “I won’t force you to fight directly against monsters, but you need to learn how, and for levelling I gave you the spiders to make them fight for you. It will be good practice for your skills too.”

  Alice sighed long and hard. “I hate you…”

  “C’mon it won’t be that bad, I’ll be extra gentle.”

  “Yes… of course…” Alice sighed again and then refocused on the last map on the table that she compiled personally. “There is a lot of work to do… you go, I’ll… get acquainted with the people here and try to make things start, town folks are not the easiest to work with…”

  Raime gave her a sympathetic smile, then gave her a peck on the lips. “I’m going home, then I’ll see about the hospital. See you at dinner, I suppose.”

  “Yea, see you later love.”

  Raime went about to exit the bar and looked around, there was a lot of people running here and there, but where before they looked like a bunch of headless chicken, now there was purpose in their stride, a good change, if chaotic. He lifted up in the air to avoid all the commotion and flew toward his home.

  Flying is the greatest skill ever. Nothing beat the feeling, and the view.

  Raime crossed the sky in a low, unhurried arc, the air folding around him as if it had finally learned to get out of his way. Below, the plaza shrank into a pattern of moving dots and purposeful lines—people breaking off into groups, voices raised, plans already turning into action. He didn’t linger on it. There would be time later to worry about walls half-built and portals half-guarded. For now, he let the wind carry him home.

  He landed lightly in the yard, boots barely disturbing the grass. The house looked the same as he left it, but it felt smaller somehow, like the world had expanded and left it behind. Laura was inside with the twins, voices overlapping in a familiar argument that cut off the moment he stepped through the door.

  They all looked at him at once.

  “Well?” Victor asked, leaning back in his chair, twin blades resting against the table leg like they were extensions of his limbs. Albert stood near the window, trying very hard not to look as eager as he felt. Laura watched him more carefully, eyes searching his face for something, but he had no idea what she was trying to find.

  “They’re finally moving,” Raime said, setting his pack down. “Builders, fighters, medics, scavengers. That’s what we have for now. Dad’s been chosen to lead construction. Alice is supervising the whole thing—logistics, information, coordination. Her class is making her a monster in that, even if she didn’t realize it yet.”

  Laura nodded slowly. “And you?”

  “I’ll handle the monsters, and the rifts. Thin them out, keep the pressure off until the walls go up. We’ll meet again tomorrow at midday in the plaza, but until then…” He glanced at the twins, already half on their feet. “It’s just us for training this afternoon.”

  Victor put a hand on his mouth, pretending to yawn as he grinned. Albert didn’t even bother hiding it.

  Raime rolled his shoulders once, feeling the familiar weight settle into place. “When you’re too tired to keep your arms up, I’ve got a couple of errands to run before dinner. So let’s not waste time.” His gaze sharpened, voice flattening into something that brooked no argument. “Let’s go.”

  They moved.

  The yard wasn’t large, but it was enough. Grassy ground flat by years of footsteps, a fig tree leaning crookedly to one side, the low wall that marked the edge of the property. Raime paced it once, then stopped in the centre and turned to face them.

  “Albert use a greatsword basically. Victor, dual blades.” His eyes flicked to his mother. “And you?”

  Laura hesitated. She’d changed into practical clothes—tight sleeves, sturdy boots—but the pistol at her hip looked suddenly out of place. “You know I’m better at range,” she said, not defensively, just stating a fact. “I can shoot. Up close…” She shrugged. “I don’t know, I did basic self-defence, I can use a knife...”

  “Then today you learn more,” Raime said. He walked to wall and started placing weapons from his spatial ring, lifting each one in turn as he spoke. “Spear gives reach. Axes has focused power. Swords are better with human opponents usually, but the one I provided are so much superior to any you can find here on Earth that is not even fair. Daggers and knives are good for extreme close quarters.”

  She weighed them with her eyes, thinking. Finally, she nodded toward a pair of curved knives. “Those. I prefer to stick with what I can use already.”

  “Good choice.” He handed them to her, grip first. “At least you’re not starting from zero.”

  He didn’t begin with attacks.

  “Feet,” Raime said, stepping into position. “Everything starts here.” He showed them how to stand, how to distribute weight, how to shift without crossing themselves up. He corrected Albert’s tendency to overcommit, nudged Victor’s heel back a tad, tapped Laura’s knee until she bent it just enough. They repeated it again and again, muscles burning with the monotony of it, sweat forming long before anyone swung a blade.

  “Again,” he said, and they did it again.

  When he finally let them strike, it was slow and deliberate. Lines, not flourishes. Movement that conserved energy. He showed them where to place a foot before a cut, how to turn the hips, how to pull back instead of pushing forward when the ground was uneven. The twins bickered constantly—Victor mocking Albert’s stiffness, Albert snapping back about Victor’s wild swings—but their eyes stayed locked on Raime, absorbing every correction.

  Balance came first. Then timing. Then breathing.

  By the time he stepped back, they were all panting despite the slow movements he made them perform.

  “Now,” Raime said, walking to the fig tree and snapping a thick, crooked branch from its lower limbs. He tested it in his hand, gave it a light swing. “You fight me with what you learned.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “You’re joking,” Victor said finally, staring at the stick. “That’ll break on the first hit.”

  “Against this sword,” Albert added incredulous, lifting his weapon for emphasis. “Are you actually insane?”

  Raime smiled, just a little. “Attack.”

  The twins hesitated, then came at him together.

  The stick moved.

  It wasn’t strength that stopped Albert’s blade, but the angle. Raime slid inside the cut, the branch catching the flat of the longsword and rolling it aside, redirecting momentum into empty air. Victor’s blades flashed toward his ribs, fast and sharp, and Raime stepped into them, shoulder turning, stick snapping out to tap Victor’s wrist hard enough to numb it.

  “Again,” he said.

  They attacked harder.

  Steel met wood, again and again, but the branch never shattered. Raime used distance and timing, letting their weapons work against them, letting their own force overextend their balance. He punished mistakes immediately—not with pain, but with position. A tap to the ankle that sent Albert stumbling. A twist of the stick that locked Victor’s arms for half a second too long.

  Laura joined in last, daggers low and cautious. He watched her carefully, let her get close, then shifted just enough to force her to change stance. When she hesitated, he didn’t retreat.

  “In a real fight,” Raime said as he turned her blade aside, “no one waits for you to decide.”

  She swallowed and attacked again, more decisively this time.

  “You have two weapons while I have one, use it to your advantage.”

  He pushed one of the knives with the stick in the trajectory of the other, making her stumble.

  “The same is valid for you too Vic, even more so due to your weapon being longer and more cumbersome than mom’s.”

  They fought until their arms shook and their legs burned, until sweat soaked through fabric and breath came ragged. Only then did Raime lower the stick.

  “Good,” he said. “You’re all improving.”

  They collapsed where they stood, laughing and cursing in equal measure. Victor lay flat on his back, staring at the sky. Albert leaned on his sword like it was the only thing keeping him upright. Laura sat on the low wall, daggers resting across her knees, expression thoughtful rather than exhausted.

  Raime looked at them—really looked—and felt the familiar tightening in his chest. Not fear. Responsibility.

  “This isn’t about winning,” he said quietly. “Out there, there are no rules. You use what you have. You survive. Everything I teach you has to work when someone wants you dead.”

  They nodded. Even Victor was serious now.

  He straightened, rolling his shoulders again. “Rest five minutes. Then we do it again.”

  There was no time to waste.