Another week passes. And after the attack by the brachiosaurus and its friends, I have been forced to reckon with a truth I find uncomfortable to admit. These days of relative peace, this week where only sporadic moments and occasional drills have occurred, are like ambrosia upon my soul. Even I, the reincarnation of a cyborg created for the express purpose of fighting with and against the System, struggle against the weight of loss.

  Even with their training, even numbed to the pain, I am sure it weighs at least as hard upon everyone else here. And poor Chloe, who has neither, and yet pushes through each morning, waking up bright and early, heading down to soothe both the bodies and minds of the soldiers. And she does it all without a complaint or cross word to anyone. Truly, she is the best of all of us.

  Seeing her each day is an inspiration to move forward. I think she’s an inspiration to all of us. How ironic is it, that though I was created to be a banner to rally people around, it is my best friend who is fulfilling my responsibility, and all on her own. Yet one more reason why she must be protected at all costs.

  I have made steady progress with my [Glyphcasting], having upgraded it to Rank IV through my practice sessions each evening. My grasp of the basics combining runes and glyphs into spells is steadily increasing, as is my knowledge of the underlying language from an academic sense. But as I’ve learned over my time since the System arrived, the best way to gain more levels and Skill ranks is to apply them in combat. The more dangerous the situation, the greater the potential reward.

  I’m awakened by a knock on the door as I’m soaking in the bathtub in the early morning. It wouldn’t be Chloe; she was still asleep as of the time I turned the water on, and she’s not the type to forget her key to get inside. It’s thankfully no emergency; no blaring sirens raising hell across the garrison, demanding urgent mobilization to face whatever terrific threat the System will unleash upon us at some time of its choosing. But the second knock a few seconds later suggests that the messenger is deliberate, and doesn’t intend to give me my sweet time to enjoy a bit of relative tranquility.

  I slip on a bathrobe to answer the door, where I see a young man I don’t immediately recognize. His eyes drift down for a moment, more in shock than anything, so I pay the slight no mind as he turns back to eye level and hands me a document.

  “Ms. Mortensen, you and Ms. Jacobs are requested at command at oh-five-thirty.” He nods slightly. “That is all.”

  He turns around and walks off, leaving me holding the missive. I can already surmise what’s inside without needing to read it; the two of us are going to be sent off on another expedition into the wilderness around town. We still need to figure out what triggered the brachiosaurus attack, and whether there’s a possibility of another in the coming days and weeks. And maybe, depending on the circumstances, we might be able to do another dungeon dive. Though in that case, I think Chloe and I will largely be on our own.

  I am a bit surprised we’ve received no volunteers to the force, nor anyone else in situations such as ours who were recruited through various degrees of coercion. Is it merely that most people are too weak to be of any use? Or even, are there any survivors within the city. Even one of those damned turkeys could have slain hundreds of people before being stopped by one of us, and I’m not convinced that Lindsey and her fellow [Rangers] managed to track down and slay every last one of them.

  What even is the situation outside? I’m… disappointed in myself that I’ve not asked. More so that it hasn’t even crossed my mind to do so. It can’t be a complete breakdown of society just yet; we’re still receiving food imports, the electricity and water continue to run. But there haven’t been any visitors. I haven’t seen Chloe’s mother. And I’ve heard nothing of either of our fathers.

  I cling to the dim hope that mine is still alive and out there somewhere. As for Chloe’s, I’m sure he’s alive. He’s doing some sort of classified work for the feds, and I’d be willing to bet all the money I don’t have that he’s working on some sort of project using Ethertech. It’d be nice to talk with him at some point, maybe learn from each other. But he’s been nonresponsive every time Chloe has tried to call him. Still, the number hasn’t been disconnected, another piece of evidence that he’s still alive and well.

  Chloe emerges from her slumber, letting loose a cute groan as she rotates her neck over her pillow and stretches her arms out and above her head. She flips on the light and immediately blushes as she sees me, still in my bathrobe.

  “Um, Sera?”

  I look down at myself. “Sorry, we just had someone at our door while I was in the bath and you were asleep. We need to get ready, though, looks like we’ve gotta be ready to deploy in half an hour.”

  She nods. “It’s… a nice view.”

  It’s my turn to blush as I head back toward the bathroom. “Uh, thanks.” I close the door behind me and begin frantically getting dressed as Chloe is doing the same in the main room. But all I can think about, as I frantically dry my hair with my [Heat] glyph is, just what did she mean by that? I thought we agreed that we weren’t going to try dating right now? I’m very much not ready for anything of the sort. But still, it flusters me so!

  We grab and don our equipment and make our way downstairs, where a light breakfast is awaiting us. Some fruit and a single lightly-buttered waffle for each of us before we make our way over to the command center. A bit of a snafu at the front door, as neither of our ID cards have sufficient permissions to get inside, which in turn attracts the attention of a few guards before the whole thing gets straightened out and we’re let inside.

  We make our way to the room in the far back of the building, and to my shock and horror, the colonel himself is standing before us. I freeze for a half second before immediately jumping to full attention with my best impression of a salute. Chloe follows suit a moment later; even if we’re in some nebulous space between being military and civilian, right now, Colonel Wilson is the one person who can make my life more heavenly or hellish than any other. The least I can do is treat him with the respect demanded of his station, despite any personal misgivings.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “At ease, soldiers,” he says, and we drop to a more relaxed posture. “I trust the two of you have already gone over the letter I’ve given you?”

  “Not in great detail, Sir, though we have looked over it briefly over breakfast.”

  “Sergeant Reed and Major Richardson have been adamant about the potential of your so-called Ethertech, and after your demonstrations these past several days, they are beginning to sway my opinion on the matter. However, that does not change the fact that the two of you are invaluable here on base, defending our fair city from monsters that want nothing less than to annihilate us down to the last woman and child.”

  I still don’t think that’s what’s going on. If the System wanted to trigger a full apocalypse, or even wipe us out completely, it could do so, and we’d have no way even to resist as we are now. It wants to challenge us. It wants us to twist our society around its gifts— its curses. More importantly, I don’t understand why no one else seems to realize this. Every encounter has been a tribulation, but not one of them has proven insurmountable.

  Wait, no, that’s wrong. I’m forgetting about Beavis and Butt-head back in the dungeon. And how could I forget those sixteen soldiers who lost their lives not two weeks ago back on the battlefield. I’m ashamed once again. I need to think about this from a different angle. I’ve survived up until now. Just because I’ve been with Chloe and she’s preternaturally lucky? Or is it something to do with me specifically?

  Is that it? Is the System attempting to challenge me specifically? It knows about me. It might know that I escaped it somehow? Did I take a piece of the System when I came to Earth? Or maybe it wants this power that Madison said that I have. Too damn bad I haven’t even the slightest idea how to awaken it, let alone use it for whatever the colonel wants me to do. No doubt to serve as his personal living, breathing bioweapon.

  I can’t help but be amused by the irony. I was created as a living weapon. The memories that I’ve awakened to this point are all congruent in that respect. I was created to be a weapon against the System, and now that the System has arrived, everything I’ve done has been toward that goal. But when the colonel asks me for help to that effect, I hesitate. Some byproduct of my human upbringing?

  No. It’s the lack of control and agency that comes with serving as a soldier, as opposed to operating under my own initiative. It’s knowing that whatever I have to give up to get the colonel’s leave and resources is going to be used for his benefit, not mine. And that, whatever consequences might come as a result of that decision, I’m still going to shoulder a portion of the blame. At least according to my own conscience.

  All I can do is acknowledge the truth of his words. To him, and to others on base, I— and perhaps Chloe even more so— are invaluable.

  “Sir,” I say.

  “However, I understand that there is the potential for even greater gains should you depart and complete this quest. At present, the potential gains do not justify sending such valuable assets away from the front lines on what may well be a wild goose chase.”

  “Sir,” Chloe says. “You said, ‘at present’. What has changed, or what do you anticipate will change?”

  “Two things. First, we did have a small contingent of doctors, paramedics, and other medical technicians who had selected a [Healer] variant as their class. Though the most recent battle was a tragedy, several among them gained a number of levels, which in turn granted them access to a far more potent healing spell. In that regard, Ms. Jacobs’ abilities have gone from mission critical to merely a strong boon to our forces.

  “As for the second, that would depend on Ms. Mortensen’s cooperation. I believe everyone here has witnessed the power that her [Glyphcasting], as she calls it, is capable of. Therefore, I would like to propose an exchange I believe will be mutually beneficial both to her and to everyone else. In exchange for my leave, and resources to assist you to and from the dungeon northwest of here, I want you to select a student who you can share your techniques with.”

  Yep, pretty much figured out what he was going to ask the moment he said ‘two things’. And it’s not the most outrageous thing he could ask for. I’ve made no secret of my spells. And there is something to be said for having more people working on the discipline in order to advance it that much faster. Repetition of research, validation through continued experimentation, is a crucial part of the scientific process.

  But there is a feasibility problem with his request. I doubt there’s too many people who can even start learning how to [Glyphcast]. Even with the level I’m at, all the Skills I have, and my class’s natural tendency to experiment and modify glyphs and Ethertech more broadly, I’ve only managed to reduce the cost from prohibitive to merely exorbitant.

  “I would be willing to do so, on two conditions of my own.”

  “Name them.”

  “First, I want the person I teach not to be a member of command. I have some distrust with authority, and I’d rather not give such a powerful weapon to a member of leadership to wield at their disposal. The fact that you’ve allowed me to do my research unabated to this point suggests you are not categorically opposed to this condition.”

  He furrows his brows at me, but doesn’t take any action against me. Even if I have an edge against him in personal strength, I’m sure there’s at least one high-level subordinate ready to strike the moment he gives the order.

  “And your second condition?”

  “I need whoever you select to work on getting the Skills [Basic Ether Manipulation] and [Basic Glyph Manipulation]. At least five ranks in each, and preferably, whoever it is can get [Basic Ether Manipulation] evolved up to [Intermediate Ether Manipulation] like I have. Without both of those Skills, there’s no point. It’s already dangerous enough for me as it is, and I have even more class Skills that help me with my research and development. Without the person having at least those two Skills, and preferably my [Ethersight] as well, I can’t in good conscience teach them.”

  Colonel Wilson looks down at my eye level. Neither of us blink for half a minute, until he eventually does.

  “Reluctantly, I have to accede to that condition. I will conduct a survey of any potential candidates and current roles, and sit you down with them in one week’s time. Until then, you have my leave to do your explorations. Meet with the quartermaster at oh-seven fifteen sharp to get outfitted. Until then, you are dismissed.”