Sullivan was not alone in his realization of their destiny and what their awakening meant. After everyone's first nightmarish vision of the end of the world, each member of the Thirteen Chosen understood the gravity of their situation. The world's fate rested with their industry and commitment. The lives of their loved ones, friends, and community were now in their hands. Each member burned with determination to preclude the world's demise—or at least ideally should have. But Sullivan was not the only bad apple in the batch. In fact, it almost seemed like some other intelligence was at play to ensure the end times.

  In one room lit exclusively with blacklight lamps, a disturbed youth cackled with mad delight. Posters for death metal bands covered the walls while the room's computer contained files full of snuff films and gore videos. On a shelf there were various bones and a jar containing a rat pincushioned with toothpicks. This youth fantasied about all the terribly cruel and sadistic things he could subject others to once he was strong enough to dominate them and bend them to his will.

  In another room a crippled youth sitting bolt upright in bed stared abstractedly out the window. Emerging from the deep rumination he had been enjoying, he scooched on to the side of the bed and allowed his legs to dangle off the side. Two crutches were propped up against the bed, but the youth spurned their assistance and instead decided to try standing unassisted. As he gingerly stretched out his legs and allowed them to carry the weight of his body, he pushed off from the bed and realized he could stand normally. Dazed for a moment, he began taking a few tentative steps, which developed into him pacing around the room. Then, abruptly stopping, the formerly crippled youth's countenance filled with what looked like rage commingled with cheerless excitement.

  "My revenge—I can finally have my revenge." He muttered.

  Reclining in a sofa, a pudgy youth put the handheld gaming console he had been playing on away atop a nearby coffee table. The youth sighed in an exaggerated manner.

  "This saving the world business simply isn't for me. Perhaps if they had gamified this whole thing so that it was closer to an RPG I might've been more inclined—I mean, where's the system, the interface, the levels, the stats—but I'm no hero. I'll leave this saving the world business to those other—what were they calling them—other twelve of the Thirteen Chosen."

  Earth's future did not look bright.