Year 0 Month 5 Week 1

  —Shrroooom-Chirp-Shwershhh—

  An average-sized woman in a pantsuit stares into the camera with a big smile and large eyes, standing frozen before taking a quick breath. She speaks in a flat cadence, “Here we are today at the North Center Corner Zoo.” Where they are gearing up for a grand re-opening.”

  She took a couple of steps, the camera showing the large crowd around her.

  —Tweet-Caw-Caw-Whistle—"

  “THE BIRDS!” A child shouts.

  The sounds of people muted as she continued, “The North Center recently closed due to the sudden changes, making everyone wonder what had happened.” She walks up to a man in a too-tight khaki outfit with the zoo logo printed on it, accompanied by a name tag that towers over the newscaster. The cameraman zooms out to bring him fully into the frame. “With me here today is Howard, the Head Zookeeper.”

  The man awkwardly waves towards the camera.

  “Now, Howard, after the unprecedented closing of the Zoo—after a rather impressive thirty-five-year continuous operation—I’m sure your dedicated fans are curious as to why the zoo really closed.” She held the mic up to the man, her arm fully above her head. She looked like a child playing pretend.

  A nervous-looking Zookeeper leaned down and spoke. “It was right after the awakening, and many of our keepers weren't in a good space—including myself—some left, some are gone, and a few even tried to free the animals. And it took us some time to notice. And wrangle them back.”

  “Yes, the bears down Broad Street and the bobcats in the hills incidents.”

  “The bears were released from here.” He replied, chagrined, “The bobcats, on the other hand—while not us—were another part of why it took us so long to reopen.”

  “You are referring to the animals becoming more active and irritable since the awakening?”

  The Zookeeper took a second as he slowly answered, “In a way.” The older ones have all become much more territorial recently. It has caused a significant amount of rework on the habitats and required updating our staff on new procedures for working with the animals. It has been a big adjustment.”

  That perked the newscaster up as she excitedly asked, “Are you stating the animals have awakened too?”

  The man looked unsure. “I don’t know if it’s the same, but we have seen some of them opening portals—not all, mind you. We have forwarded this to the local authorities and a few research institutes. We are also taking as many precautions as possible when we receive new information. All to keep the animals and keepers healthy, happy, and safe.”

  “Now I have to ask—because we all have seen Jurassic Park—”

  “No, they can’t escape.” Howard interrupted, rolling his eyes. “At least no more than before, and we have updated all our safety procedures to ensure all our guests and animals are safe. Despite a few growing a bit bigger. As long as people don’t actively do something monumentally stupid, like trying to jump inside the cages—which has always been a bad idea— then they should be safe.”

  “Well, with all the changes, it is great to see people returning to normal.” She turns towards the camera, and the focus shifts to just her. “This is Sarah Hartman with Local News Five. Back to you.”

  #

  “We are working with top scientists to get the most recent information, and now we’ve learned we need to put a stop to it.” The city councilman said in frustration.

  “We are putting forward an emergency injunction against the newest bill—

  “Is it an emergency if they all are emergency provisions? That’s all we’ve been doing for the last five months.”

  “The floor recognizes Doctor Leon.” A young man in a suit takes the podium, looking like a child amongst giants.

  “Is this the best of our time? People are suffering; we need to take a systematic approach and put a halt to all this until we sort this out. People are still confused, and we need to determine if leveling is even good or if they are still the same before we start leveling fines—”

  —Click—

  “Sigh,” Zephyr cut off the video on his phone.

  The world was a mess, but it was recovering. Zephyr, for his part, was getting a front-row seat to it all, thanks to constantly running through the city. All it had taken was four months of confusion, recovery, discovery, and a fifth month where people actually started doing something for it to go to shit. No, that was an exaggeration; it was shit before the world was messed up; it was just that the world was in a sort of stupor for the last four months, unsure and drifting. Now, they were encountering the same problems that had existed before people awoke.

  Something most people don’t realize—as things are usually much slower, so they happen more gradually— is people have a fundamental lack of understanding of how to make things better. Sure, they have their narrow viewpoints and opinions—some even backed by scientific data—yet when they just start throwing everything at the wall, hoping something will stick, a lot of bad ideas get tossed in. Not to mention the control freaks trying to take over and the loud-voiced minorities making things worse.

  Zephyr stared down at his second driver’s license update in the last month, this one already obsolete. The first time, it was still years from expiration, but he was supposed to get it updated, stating he had awakened. Something he didn’t hate and should have been simple —wanting to get ahead of things so there would be no issues with the business—he found himself at the DMV. Where a lot of people were yelling.

  They wanted everyone to update their ID with the name of the skill, and many people did not like that. But he got it updated. Then, not a day or two later, they attempted to pass a provision stating that people would need to update their information every time they leveled up. That backtracked so fast that Zephyr only heard about it in passing. It wasn’t in the budget.

  The second time he had to obtain a new license was when an officer stopped him during a delivery, all because of the floating questions surrounding him. The officer then politely informed him that he required a special provision for hauling so many crystals, along with a two-hundred-dollar fine. When he told his business partner, Killian, they found the provision was only required since that morning. They then scrambled to get that updated card.

  Now that the provision had been rescinded and others were being implemented, they were still required to pay the fine, though. Killian said it was fine. They could write it off as a business expense, something Zephyr still didn’t get.

  Now, the powers that be were on the verge of discarding the license updates altogether and creating a new type of ID, establishing a completely new department to handle it all. What irked him the most was that no one even understood what they were trying to regulate.

  What was next? Licensing for each individual wild portal? Based on how many appear—not to mention how often—it would be impossible to regulate. Would they have to obtain a new license every time they developed a new skill or improved their physical abilities? Would it be a separate license like a fishing license? What are the rules? They were literally trying to write the book now, and people were already constantly making annotations and crossing things out, making it altogether impossible to read.

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Putting his ID away, he took in a breath, hoping his day would go smoothly. Then he knocked on the doorway, hoping he hadn’t just jinxed himself. He really didn’t want to run through another group of protesters. With all these changes, protests erupted daily everywhere. People were no longer content with apathy. Some literally couldn’t when, every week or so, their own minds showed them the injustices around them and what they weren't doing to stop them. So, when people first started to organize, it was only a matter of time before the protests began. Thankfully, it hadn’t yet risen to violence—yet there was just too much change every day.

  And each group always wanted to stop him and talk, sign a petition, yell at him, or simply throw things at him. Zephyr had been handed six different pamphlets from six different organizations. All have different agendas, ranging from reviving guilds to forming unions or various other organizations to work with or against the government or privatizing quests, rifts, and other conflicting information.

  One pamphlet was filled with grotesque images of people's bodies after they leveled missing teeth, bones, broken legs, and other fractures from after they awakened. Even showing crime scene photos of some who took their own lives. Zephyr nearly tossed it away then and there, but a dark curiosity filled him, driving him to know what was written in it. When he did, he was tempted to find the people and burn and destroy all the pamphlets.

  It was filled with stories that made people who used quests or levels seem like they were drug addicts recovering or lost hope. Anyone who’d awakened would easily be able to tell they were fake, as the descriptions were completely wrong—that still didn’t stop them or more people from joining them. Then, it discussed how rifts could brainwash you. These pamphlets tended to come from the other protesters. The young. The ones who have yet to experience awakening. It seemed half the people who hadn’t awakened, maybe more, were buying into this harmful information.

  The other half were either all on board for the changes, trying to awaken as soon as possible—despite the latest research finding only between twenty-five and twenty-eight—or just going about their lives as normal, almost ignoring everything going on.

  Zephyr wondered if they would be as excited if they knew it was, for most, essentially another puberty, with people shooting up in height, hitting eight feet on average. What was amusing was that even some people under five feet tall suddenly seemed seven feet tall. The clothing industry was barely able to keep up. Leading to some odd and questionable fashion choices, such as stretchy pants or oversized moo-moos. Loose clothing was a big trend, and so were people who leaned into the change, which led to many individuals wearing what looked like wizard-like robes or Oriental-style, loose-flowing robes. It was like seeing people going to a Renaissance fair.

  That was for other people. People who weren’t Zephyr. Though he did dress the part, he was still in their same-sized clothing, having not grown an inch—Tim checked. They theorized it had to do with body leveling, and since he was level one, he had no height, which made him feel like a kid when hanging with his friends.

  When he rounded the corner, he ran into one of the more problematic groups. One he was intimately familiar with. “The Real Humans,” as they’ve taken to calling themselves, were a well-organized group of unawakened individuals who somehow always knew when and where the other protests were. They made it a point to show up and essentially condemn the other groups or simply harass the people or businesses. They even went so far as to set up their own perimeters around wild portals they found trying to keep people out, begging them not to go in. It was where he got the harmful pamphlets; they always carried a couple of boxes with them.

  “It’s him! Please stop!”

  “You’re not well!”

  They were currently yelling at him, and his headphones and a good book were usually enough for him to ignore them as he tried to go about his business. But they weren’t letting him go. Going as far as to try to grab his quests and block his path, and one even tried to grab his bag to stop him.

  Having had enough, he yelled, “Will you stop?”

  “Not until you give up your quests!” Someone shouted.

  “No. They make me go fast.” Zephyr snarked, knowing it was probably the wrong thing to say. He was just tired of all the harassment, especially from them. They were the big reason he was the only courier at his company. All the other people he hired quit, largely due to the harassment. Somehow, he was keeping up thanks mostly to his tier two skill hitting level eight. Oddly, this achievement was partially thanks to them as well, as he was constantly forced to dodge them and items thrown at him.

  “See, he's an addict! We need to get those things away from them.” The leader shouted.

  “I'm not an addict. I just like to run.” He yelled back as he weaved through, dodging everyone. Finally, he looked back and took in just how large the crowd was, and they were all looking at him determinedly. Somehow, that was worse than anger. As he realized they believed that bullshit and were about to act on it to help him. “OH SHIT!”

  This freaked him out enough that he kicked it into high gear, bolting away.

  #

  —Clack-clack-Clack—

  —Trip-Fall-shrrr—

  “Ow.” Zephyr tripped over his feet—something he thought he could no longer do—while trying to stop himself from running into a police barrier that blocked another large group of people protesting. He should have known there was another one only a block or two away. Why else would “The Real Humans” be there?

  Please don’t be another hate group. He thought as he looked up and up at the very tall group and let out a sigh of relief. Everyone in front of him had the telltale signs of awakening, making them less prone to do something negative to him. That, and with the place warned off, meant it was a well-organized protest.

  With relief, Zephyr pushed himself up; one of the taller officers, his Shirt unbuttoned, too small to fit, and what looked to be stretchy workout pants. If it weren’t for the other officers, Zephyr might have thought it was someone in a bad costume. “You'll have to go around, or are you planning on joining.” The officer’s eyes stared at the cloud of crystals behind him. Don’t give me a ticket. I have the damn license.

  “Not today.” Zephyr himself had joined a few demonstrations, but there were so many he’d lost track of what any of them were about anymore. Including the one he just ran away from. Looping around the crowd, he was about to run to his next delivery when he caught sight of something new. A group of people handed out pamphlets—no, that wasn’t new—and wore armor and weapons. Medieval weapons. Most had a side sword, but one had a staff and another a mace; their clothes actually fit, which was somehow more unbelievable.

  Zephyr must have been staring for too long as an older lady smiled and walked up to him; her hair was filled with lots of gray, except for the roots, which were fresh and vibrant, a rich brown. So that’s what happens when you awaken when you have gray hair.

  “Sir, if you have a minute.”

  Zephyr looked up, feeling like a kid. “No, thank you.” I have a delivery.” He looked up, wondering why she seemed familiar, before waving her off and walking away.

  “Delivery?” She tilted her head as he forced his way through the crowd.

  “Hey, isn’t that the squirrel?” He heard someone yell, which he took as his queue to form, his ears and tail slipping around the corner.

  —Snort—

  “I think it was.” Another woman said, surprised.

  “The squirrel?” The woman who tried to hand him a pamphlet asked.

  Hearing them speak about him, he stopped in, now curious, leaning against the building.

  “He's a local legend. One of the first to lean into the whole thing. And one of the first to capitalize on it. Haven’t you seen that super-awkward commercial?”

  Zephyr’s face was heating up. That commercial had, but he had become a bit of a meme, and he did not know how to cope, so he always tried to ignore it. I should go. They’re going to notice me listening.

  “Is that why he looks familiar? So he’s a local delivery guy who wears a costume?” The woman questioned. Then shrugged, “Not much of a legend. I mean, half of us have also leaned into this whole thing. I mean, look what we’re wearing.”

  “He runs deliveries all day. Like, I mean, he runs for like eight hours a day. It's insane.”

  Zephyr felt a bit of pride and slight annoyance at himself. Am I really this narcissistic?

  “You sure he doesn't just drive and park somewhere and run the rest of the way? The guy looked a little…heavy to be doing that all day.”

  He looked down at the damned gut. He had lost thirty pounds and gotten in shape, but his gut wouldn’t go away. He’d thought that exercising all day would make him skinny by now, and apparently, that wasn’t how it worked. He was also eating a lot of calories, hell he was eating a granola bar right now, just to have energy to run, his bag was filled with them in a separate pocket. I should really go.

  “I know, right, but if he does, it’s miles back. I've seen him run from one building to another. It was quite a sight to see.”

  “That is impressive, but why is he called squirrel?”

  “He’s Ratatoskr. It’s like a squirrel from Norse mythology or something. But people just call him the squirrel. Did you notice what he did with the ears and tail?”

  “I was wondering why he did that.” Finally, Zephyr started to move, and he heard them change the subject. “Excuse me, would you like to learn about the creation of the Adventure Guild?”

  Adventurers guild?

  * * *