The 21st Branch lived in a skyscraper that jutted out a couple of floors higher than the rest, painted electric blue and graffitied all over with their crossed lightning bolt symbol. It was like a symbol of their survival, of the more than two hundred scavengers living there, milling about and weathering this new world together.

  They had a basic trade infrastructure going courtesy of the Main Branch, and parties of explorers could go out and claim goods in this vast concrete jungle. Resources here were scarcer due to the Storm’s relative absence, but in their eyes, that was more than a fair trade for the stability that came with it.

  “People are really getting used to this life,” Lisa said with a grin. “It’s crazy how much we’ve grown in the past couple of months.”

  Tyler wanted to ask more about what it had been like at the start of the apocalypse, but his two tour guides had already moved on, introducing him to their cafeteria. It was an enormous thing — clearly meant to serve the hordes of office workers that would have worked in this building in the old world — and a section of it was currently packed with people for lunch.

  “Hey Brandon!”

  “What’s up Lisa!”

  “Hey! Are you with a new refugee?”

  As the two siblings made quick conversation with the people around them, Tyler took in the crowd. They were a lot like the Flooded City, in a way — they wore a mishmash of garments, with mostly-human clothes accentuated by bits and pieces of distinctly alien design.

  A typical T-shirt and jeans, but with an engraved bronze buckler on one arm. A pair of purple crocs sticking out from underneath a long, elegant robe that screamed wizard. And of course, everyone had some sort of weapon.

  Tyler could feel the Resilience permeating the room, suffusing every person they met. None of them seemed to be attuned to it, but everyone was rich with it, tiny specks of Resonance blooming within them as they went about their days. And then there was the magic they were attuned to.

  They ranged from the typical things — like manipulation of fire or earth — to more exotic ones, like a man who could control ink and only ink, or a little girl who could press her hands against anything and suddenly make it weigh half as much.

  They're all sending their mana outside of their bodies, Tyler realized.

  Like Savadiere had said, his Curse would lock him out of feats that everyone else found trivial. He couldn’t imagine what an outward-focused Resilience technique would look like, but it still stung that he’d never be able to do one.

  And Tyler could feel the weight of their gazes as he trailed Brandon and Lisa. At first he was self-conscious about his lack of shoes and clearly hospital-inspired attire, but he saw a couple of other recovering refugees that were wearing similar things around the place. No — he realized the thing that made him stand out was his lack of aura, and the big badge on his chest proclaiming that weakness to the world.

  Some gave him looks of pity, while others seemed to veer closer to judgement — as if he were just a freeloader, mooching off of their hard work while not giving anything back. And he supposed that made sense — the only people he saw with the same badge as him were children, and even then it seemed like the average kid leaned more towards having magic than not.

  These are survivors, at the end of the day. The ones without sufficient talent or determination probably all died out by the first couple of weeks. I’m an anomaly to them.

  Even after Tyler had decided to stash his badge in his pocket, someone had still confronted them in the halls — a crabby old woman with an aura of similar strength to Brandon’s, muttering about wasted resources and charity cases. It wasn’t until Lisa had come up behind her and told her to kindly fuck off that the woman had left.

  He realized that the apocalypse had transformed this little microculture to mirror that of the Reamans, in a certain way. He saw the slight deference that most gave to Lisa over Brandon, despite the former’s whimsical nature and the latter’s seeming leadership of their little group. Even the old lady had backed away the moment she’d recognized someone of superior strength.

  Then again, maybe it was more accurate to say that the circumstances had simply amplified the more brutal side to humanity that had always been resting in their cultural subconscious. He supposed he could have imagined similar scenarios playing out back in the old world, if he just replaced magical power with net worth, or status.

  Advancement solves all issues.

  Still, he couldn’t feel too bad about it all. Especially not when he was presented with a still-hot tray of roasted cassava and thick, meaty stew.

  Tyler had never appreciated a meal more in all his life. How long had it been since he’d had proper, home-cooked, human food? Sure, the soup might have had some strange orange chunks in it that his Analysis defined as Helythrean Brinebulbs, but on the whole it tasted like home. Like Earth.

  And best of all, he hadn’t had to kill something to get it.

  That was the greatest part of being part of a group, wasn’t it? The companionship. The collaboration. Not having to do everything yourself.

  Lisa seemed to echo his thoughts as she flicked a thumb back to Brandon. “It’s nice having people around, isn’t it? With this guy at my back, our party is one of the best that our branch can field. We’re like a one-two punch, y’know? He goes in with the wind magic like pow! And then I go in with my crossbow, like pew pew pew. There’s this other guy that shoots watermelons at things, and… well, he’s in the middle of pivoting to farming. But the point is, the 21st Branch has gone the last four months with minimal casualties, and if it weren’t for —”

  Brandon coughed. “We’re currently dealing with a pretty big monster breakout just a few miles out from here. That’s where that fireball attack we saw earlier came from. If we’re not able to gain an advantage soon, we’ll be forced to beg the Main Branch for assistance.”

  “Wow,” Tyler said through bites of food. I wonder how strong those people would be.

  He was about to ask when Brandon’s eyes widened.

  A large shadow landed on the table, and a meaty hand slapped onto Tyler’s shoulder.

  “Well, well, well.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  Tyler turned, looking up to see a large man with a shaggy beard sneering at him.

  Everett Brown - Aspect of Iron

  He was tall — even taller than Brandon — and built like a bear in every sense of the word. He held a beer in one hand, and Tyler fought a grimace as the smell of alcohol wafted over him.

  A frat bro type. Maybe even a current one, given that he might’ve been the same age as Tyler himself.

  “Holy shit. It really is another one.”

  The large man turned his head, shouting back into the crowd. “John, look at this, bro! A no-magic newbie! This one’s a midget!”

  Another shout came from across the room, and Everett guffawed, slapping his leg as the motion of his body shook Tyler in his seat. “I thought your kind had gone extinct by now, little guy! But every time we think there aren’t going to be any more, another one pops up! Man, I should have known when I saw you brought in a refugee, Brandy.”

  Brandon was scowling, his fingers clenched just a little tighter around his spoon than they needed to be.

  “Mind your own business, Rhett.” Lisa stood up, flipping him the bird. “Go back to, like, staring lecherously at Sophie from the healing bay until she reports you again.”

  Rhett’s nostrils flared, and he placed another hand on Tyler’s shoulder with a chortle. "Welcome to the branch, little dude. Feel free to ask me any questions — me and my boys are going places a hell of a lot higher than these two carrot heads. We might even let you be our beer boy if you ask nicely enough."

  “Please don’t touch me,” Tyler muttered.

  Lisa was glaring daggers at Rhett now, and another man was making his way over, wearing a cruel lopsided smile as he sized up their little party.

  Tyler let out an annoyed huff. He didn’t know nearly enough about how people acted here to know what was going on, but somehow, he was reminded of his middle school cafeteria. These were people experienced in combat — would they come to physical blows? Brandon was looking fidgety, and —

  Someone clapped loudly at the entrance of the cafeteria. It was a middle-aged woman holding a fancy golden staff topped with crystals, thick glasses fading into her poofy short-cropped hair.

  Alberta Richardson - Aspect of Shielding

  “Attention, everyone!” the woman shouted. She stood as straight as could be, despite the sweat lining her brow and the noticeable bags under her bloodshot eyes.

  Rhett scoffed and took off, bumping forcefully into Brandon as he did so. Lisa looked like she was about to say something at that last barb, but she and Brandon collected themselves as the talking began to die down.

  “What an asshole, right?” Lisa whispered. “I swear if he —”

  Brandon interrupted her. “That’s our Branch Leader, Alberta. She’s cool.”

  The Journeyman.

  Tyler could feel her aura from here, a subtle force that brushed against his soul despite the distance. Not as strong as the bird’s, but definitely closer than anyone else’s. That's what his aura should have felt like.

  He watched as she passed her gaze over the room, her eyebrows raising slightly when they got to their little group. Tyler tried to meet her gaze, but she’d already moved on.

  Was she just noticing that someone new had shown up, or was there more there?

  Next to her were two others. The first was the representative he’d spoken to — a short woman maybe a little older than he was, wearing a pure-white robe and staring forwards with an impassive expression.

  Brandon pointed a finger at her. “You remember Emery, the Eye of the Main Branch. She’s normally next to Alberta whenever anything important happens.”

  “I dunno why she always has to be there.” Lisa blew a strand of hair out of her face as her brother successfully distracted her from the encounter that had just happened. “All she does is take inventory of everything, and I mean everything. Even refugees. I don’t know why she insists on taking refugees for screening before we’re even allowed to bring them in for healing — the delay could have killed you, Tyler!”

  “Taking inventory is an important thing,” Brandon nudged Lisa with an elbow. “Don’t judge.”

  By then the chatter had died down, and Tyler noticed that while his gaze had been drawn to the Eye of the Main Branch, the rest of the room had eyes solely for the tall young man standing next to Alberta, holding a fancy chef’s platter with an upside-down bowl on top.

  Reagan West - Aspect of Stone

  Tyler hadn’t paid much attention to him since he didn’t have any fun alien decorations adorning him, but now he noticed that despite his height, this guy must have been even younger than he was.

  Like an early highschooler, maybe. Barely more than a kid.

  Alberta cleared her throat. “21st Branch! I hope everyone has been having a prosperous day. I know that these past couple of weeks have been hard on us, but we’ve held the line admirably this week. The skeletons seem to have given their biggest push this morning, so we expect the next couple of days to have less conflict than we’re used to. If we keep this up, we won’t have to call in a favor from the Main Branch!”

  A chorus of cheers sprouted through the room at that last sentence, and Lisa leaned in to whisper in Tyler’s ear. “Everyone is happy because to get any help from the Main Branch, we’d have to give up almost half of all the resources we’ve accumulated up until this point. Which is so dumb, right? Like, what’s even the point of annexation if we still need to pay to get protection? And they steal all our Journeymen —”

  “Shush, Lisa. Let him hear what they’re saying,” Brandon chided her.

  Tyler only had a brief moment to think about all that before Emery started speaking, as monotone as ever. “As a reminder, the Vice President overseeing our sector has promised a powerful defensive treasure from his personal collection to anyone who can find and exterminate the root of the outbreak. Let this drive you to increase your efforts in fighting the invasion.”

  “Right, because we were clearly just slacking around when the motivator was not dying.” Lisa rolled her eyes.

  But Tyler could see that she still perked up at the mention of the reward. Everyone had — including him.

  What would a treasure from this guy’s personal collection look like? Would it be stronger than the Core of Protection? Would I even be able to use it?

  But then his thoughts were interrupted as the boy stepped up and the entire room went silent.

  Alberta cleared her throat. “And today, I have a very special announcement to make.”

  The woman gestured to the boy beside her with a proud smile. “Reagan here has been with us for two months now, since one of our teams found him and his sister fending for themselves in a building on the outskirts of our scavenging zones. He came to us without an Aspect, and with his leg wrapped up to cover a nasty infected wound from a terrorbeak. A month ago, our healers cleared him for training.”

  “I was there!” Lisa nudged Tyler. “It was gross. Also cool, though.”

  “Soon after, he managed to Awaken the Aspect of Stone. Since then, this young man has been training relentlessly with it, and just two days ago he mastered the Spear of Stone technique that one of our own generously taught him. Now, he has come back from today’s skirmishes with his first kill.”

  Reagan stepped forward, one hand underneath the platter and the other grasping the bowl by the handle. With an exaggerated motion, he flung the bowl off, revealing a cracked canine skull that might have been bigger than his own.

  And the room exploded into applause.

  Cheers and hollers rang throughout the crowd, and a line of empty space opened up between the young man and the center of the room. A young woman wearing full plate armor dashed forwards and tackled him as he sprinted down the path, and they came up laughing, rolling to a stop against a table that had only a moment before been covered in platters. Reagan climbed onto the table, and the circle of people closed around him, everyone clapping and yelling for the boy.

  Incredible, Tyler thought as he shuffled towards the outskirts of the circle.

  He supposed for all the cruelty and judgement in this world, there were still bright shining moments of kindness. It felt so nice, being in the midst of so much joy. Even if it was just for a moment.

  Someone handed Reagan a drink, and the young man raised it high into the air.

  But just then, a horrible, blaring sound cut through the air. Flashing lights flared to life in every corner of the room, and Alberta’s eyes widened, her voice cutting through the chaos in an urgent shout.

  “Breach on the inner line! All hands on deck!”