Sunday passed by in a haze of unconsciousness for Nate, interrupted occasionally by Jenna knocking on his door to deliver some tray of food from presumably the campus cafeteria. She didn’t say much of anything- at least nothing Nathaniel was in any state of mind to understand. It was mostly the looks she gave him that he remembered- or the looks she hadn’t given him? Being as exhausted as he was, his Reader Trait was off its leash for the first time in nearly a decade. The first time he opened the door to see Jenna, he nearly hadn’t been able to see her at all. Ghostly images of midnight knocks for romantic trysts and discreet kisses flooded his mind. Invitations, news delivered, hopes for what tomorrow would bring, conversations that lasted well into the morning, quests for a late night meal- images danced lucidly in front of his face, nearly as real as the small woman standing before him holding a tray of food. Voices rushed through his ears saying a hundred different versions of essentially the same thing- a hundred different things all at once- the exact same thing a hundred times.

  “Nate, are you… okay?” The frizz of the loose brown curls in her hair showed some deal of stress. Worry. Anxiety- tucked away behind her mask of a smile. She was being careful- cautious. Cautious not to think or feel too strongly. Reserved. She was a gazelle approaching a watering hole where a lion was already drinking. They were back on the train: her fearing for their future, him afraid of his past. She leapt into his arms to kiss him passionately as his fingers ran through her fiery red hair. He stared deeply into her green eyes, feeling more connected to a person than he ever had before. Tears flooded her eyes as she slapped him across the face for sleeping with another woman. A fist connected with his jaw for going after his girl. She stumbled drunkenly into her best friend, both of them tittering together as they made their way into her room, hearts racing.

  Nate stumbled against the doorframe- hit hard by every one of the blows, body tingling from every first kiss, and woozy from every inebriation. “Jenna, I-” he felt his mouth moving- caught up in the stream of confessions, flying high from so many drunken nights, giddy from the touch of her body- his feelings all desperately trying to erupt upon her. He was unsure what he said next- unsure if he said anything at all.

  Jenna had been standing there, smiling at him along with a thousand thousand other faces and somehow he’d found himself suddenly at his desk, an empty tray of food in front of him. His body ached. His muscles protested with every minute movement. Pain flared through his body, acting to anchor him to the present before he passed out in his bed again.

  This all happened twice more, each time Nate feeling like he got further and further into confessing his burgeoning feelings to Jenna and yet completely uncertain if he had said anything at all. Or if it had actually been Jenna knocking on his door.

  When the fourth knock came around Nate sprang out of bed, confused by the morning beams of light coming through the crack in his window blinds. Jenna stood in the hallway, once again dressed in the browns of their uniform. Something like wariness or fear gleamed through her eyes before they softened once again into their usual warmth.

  She cracked a grin. “I thought we agreed that the Jenna alarm clock wouldn’t be a thing with you.” Mocking attitude, she cocked a hand up on her hip. Pants today instead of a skirt for her uniform. “You’d better get dressed,” she sing-songed.

  Nate’s eyes widened for a moment before he threw off his shirt and began fumbling at his pants, then widened further when he realized he hadn’t yet closed the door. He turned to find Jenna with her back turned.

  “Don’t worry,” she couldn’t help chuckling. “I didn’t see anything.”

  “This time,” Nate’s eyes narrowed.

  “Whatever do you mean?” she inquired innocently.

  “Your back was already turned. You knew to turn your back, which means you looked into the future where you didn’t turn around in time. How much did you let me undress?”

  “I don’t think it’s fair to hold people accountable to a future that doesn’t transpire, don’t you agree?”

  Nate growled more than spoke, “Fine.” He threw off his pants and rummaged through his drawers for the disparate pieces that made up an acceptable uniform.

  “Aren’t you gonna-” Jenna’s voice came across the open room, pausing briefly before the sound of a door slamming caught Nate off guard- the sound of his door slamming.

  He facepalmed, his ears growing hot with embarrassment as he threw clothes on his body and rushed through getting himself ready again this morning. Once ready enough, he threw his door open to see a still red-faced Jenna leaning against the wall opposite his door, now wearing a tan blouse and skirt.

  “I-” she began.

  “Sorry,” Nate’s cheeks grew hot again as he rubbed the back of his head. “Yesterday was… kind of like a fever-dream for me. Guess I’m not all back yet.”

  Scoffing a laugh, Jenna shook her head. “Not that much.”

  “What?”

  “Your question from earlier- about how much I saw of you in the future when you started stripping in front of me. Not- that much.” Jenna shook her head again, meeting Nate’s eyes. “Come on, big guy. We gotta get to class.”

  “Welcome to Expedition I,” a thin man stood with his arms clasped behind his back. His face was rugged and weathered from both age and sun. “I am Professor Marvin, as you hopefully recall by now.”

  Oh yeah. He’s the guy who handed out the scavenger hunt lists.

  Professor Marvin continued, “Many of you no doubt believe the Gate Delving Program to be all about what goes on inside a Gate and how to survive. You couldn’t be more wrong; we teach you to survive in the world. Gate Delving is but a tiny fraction of the time you will spend fighting for your life. And while other classes are more focused on the demons that try to kill you, the focus of my class is the cruel, uncaring embrace of mother nature. Exposure, dehydration, heatstroke, and hypothermia have laid claim to more human lives than demons could ever even comprehend taking. Does anyone care to venture a guess at the most deadly aspect of mother nature?”

  A young woman with auburn red hair raised her hand.

  “And you are?”

  “Andrea,” the redhead answered promptly. “And… rain?”

  “Interesting,” Professor Marvin nodded. “And what’s your thought process here?”

  “Well,” Andrea started, her face contorting from nerves. “Rain gets you wet, which can lead to things like pneumonia. Or getting cold, so hypothermia. Um. It can cause flooding too. And landslides if you’re near a cliff.”

  “Wouldn’t snow be worse?” Professor Marvin countered. “Snow necessitates cold temperatures, which would worsen pneumonia, hypothermia, catching a cold or your body running a fever. Avalanches are also rather common near mountainous regions.”

  “Oh. Right,” Andrea nodded meekly.

  “Would you like to change your answer then?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good. You’re still wrong. Any other guesses?”

  No one else seemed brave enough to play the professor’s little game, so the thin man simply leaned back against the front of his desk and folded his arms. “Getting lost. By far and away, being in an unfamiliar area is the single most dangerous aspect of any terrain you may find yourself in. Your homework tonight will be to memorize what the 5 major terrain features are, as well as be able to adequately demonstrate each using only one hand. During the next class on Wednesday, each of you will be assessed and graded on these two topics. You must also be able to describe each of the minor terrain features and point each out on a topographical map.”

  “Professor Marvin?” a young man with brown hair and brown eyes raised his hand.

  “Yes. Mr. Connor Vale, is it?”

  “Yes, sir,” Connor nodded. “Is this a group project?”

  “Not for your class,” the professor answered curtly. “We expect you to be leaders. As such, each of you individually needs to have these aspects mastered if you are to lead a team. Of course, I don’t care how you study or learn what these features are, nor do I care how you lot come up with a way to identify features using only your hand. Just like it doesn’t really matter how you find yourself lost in the countryside somewhere. You will be graded individually on this, because your survival and the survival of your delving team is solely on your own shoulders.”

  “Hold on,” Nico held up a hand requesting to pause. “I think what my brother is getting at is we have an Oracle in our class. She already knows the answers, or can spend a moment of time to learn them simply by looking ahead. We’re not exactly on an even playing field here.”

  “An Oracle?” Professor Marvin arched an eyebrow, still relaxed and leaning against the front of his desk. “Huh. And Mr. Vale what, in your esteemed opinion, would you say is the purpose of my class?”

  Nico pursed his lips for a moment as he thought. “To help us survive in the wild?”

  “The wild?” Professor Marvin chuckled. “Is that what you call them now? Wilds?” He shook his head in dismay. “It used to be our countryside. Not domesticated or even necessarily tamed, but still ours. But yes, you have the essence of it: to survive in these ‘wilds’. Hypothetically, let’s say this Oracle becomes lost. How long do you think an Oracle remains lost? How long before an Oracle chooses a course of action? How long before they read the future to determine the best course of action for themselves and their team? Do you think having this Oracle memorize what a saddle looks like will be useful in any way? Or does their Trait simply negate the need for these basic steps?”

  Nico frowned. “I guess she negates that need. But it’s still not fair.”

  “Life generally is unfair. Should we penalize those who have advantage?”

  “Probably not. But I’m a puppeteer. I could make something like a drone and have reconnaissance of the whole area. So shouldn’t I also be able to skip this part?”

  Professor Marvin took in a breath and sighed, finally standing up to walk forward. “Nico, you definitely have an advantage in that aspect. Here’s the major difference: you can get a map of the land. Great. That’s what you’re working with- land features. You’ll still have to assess the information you gather, relay that information to others, make judgement calls based off of that information you gather, and plot courses to get you back home. This Oracle of yours doesn’t do any of that. He or she doesn’t have a map of the land but a map of the future. You’re working with two entirely different sets of resources. If you trust your Trait, you take what the terrain deems as the simplest course. If you hold this Oracle to do the same, their course may take them directly over a hill rather than around it simply because they foresaw a demonic patrol pass by the base of the hill. So again, does it matter if the Oracle knows what a spur is, or is that bit of knowledge largely irrelevant or already accounted for to their Trait?”

  “I don’t really know how that Trait works,” Nico admitted with a frown. “So… I guess? But that’s basically a free grade for her.”

  “Nothing is free,” the professor shrugged.

  “It’s a pretty good summary of my Trait’s utility,” Jenna offered, outing herself as the Oracle. “And I can take your test now if you’d like, Professor.”

  Professor Marvin smiled lopsidedly for a moment, making eye contact with the young woman. “Oh, you won’t be taking any test in my class. Like I said, nothing is free. You’ll be teaching the class all about this assignment. Your grade will be the average of the three highest and singular lowest scores.”

  “Wait a second-” Jenna started.

  “No,” the professor interrupted. “Your role as an Oracle is utilitarian, as you pointed out. As such, your success isn’t measured by what you can do by yourself, but by how well you support those around you. Can you get others to put their trust in you blindly? And how well can you instruct them to follow your orders?”

  Jenna frowned. “But the only way for me to get a perfect score is if everyone else does too. I can’t stand out academically like that.”

  Professor Marvin smirked and shook his head. “Correct. May I remind you that my class is focused on survival. You win when everyone survives. You’ll probably never receive the credit you’re due, but everyone survives. And believe me when I tell you, I’ve yet to have a freshman class do that. I think being the cause of your class’ survival would be enough academic stand-out, don’t you?”

  “Wait a second,” Nate interjected quickly, “people die in your class?”

  “Ah. Right,” Professor Marvin snapped his fingers. “I haven’t gone over that bit yet. Short answer: no. Historically my class has a casualty rate no different from any other- that is to say: barring horrible accidents or student violence, no one dies. You will receive situational ‘fake deaths’, however. As we go throughout the year, you’ll be taken through the ‘wilds’ periodically and assessed on your learned survival abilities. Fail these, and you ‘die’, leaving your team shorthanded for the remainder of the mission. Dying might be the result of dehydration, exertion, hot or cold injury, starvation, or even the occasional demonic ambush. Your final grade will be determined by the number of ‘deaths’ you’ve accrued throughout the semester, NOT via test. That being said, there will still be a final test- a culmination of what you’ve learned. You will spend a full two weeks fending for yourselves in an unknown location. The only way to pass my final exam is by not ‘dying’. Questions?”

  “Can we actually hold off on those questions?” Jenna stood up, turning to address the class as a whole. “A lot of what you want to know will naturally be addressed and make more sense as we get further into this class and, as a reminder, we have our first assignment due just slightly sooner than the end of semester exam.”

  With a smirk and a shrug, Professor Marvin handed the floor over to her.

  “Thank you,” she threw a tight-lipped smile his way. “Not a fan of public speaking by the way.” Taking a deep breath, she held her closed fist out in front of her. “Five major terrain features. This is going to be our reference,” she motioned to her closed fist. She then pointed to a knuckle. “Hill. We should all know what a hill is. Easy, right? Next one too. Between two hills is a valley.” Her finger slid along the space between her knuckles, rotating her pointing finger and hand in an exaggerated movement. “Everyone with me so far?” She looked around the room to see people frowning at her, but nodding their heads. “Alright, glad I asked. I think you guys should go through this with me. Everyone hold out a fist and point to a hill. Good. And now a valley. Great. You’re getting it. Next is ridge,” she ran her finger along her knuckles. “Basically a series of hills. Then we have saddles,” she slid a finger through the space between two knuckles, “yes, like what you put on a horse. Kinda looks the same, too. Two opposite sides go up, two opposite sides go down. Remember those potato chips as a kid that came all stacked on top of one another instead of loosely in the bag before we lost most of Idaho? Think that shape. Saddle. Last feature is the depression.” This time, she turned her fist and extended a finger to point to herself. “Little dark humor,” she tried a chuckle, but her nerves got the better of her effort. “But if you look at your fist, you’ll see your index finger and thumb encircling a hole. That hole demonstrates a depression. So we’ve got Hill, Valley, Ridge, Saddle, and Depression. Those are the five major terrain features. And how to use only one hand to describe each feature. Coincidentally, those hand gestures are also how to silently signal those terrain features to your team without speaking. That’ll be important later. Once again: hill,” she pointed to a knuckle, “valley,” she slid her finger from one knuckle to the next, “ridge,” she cut a finger across her knuckles, “saddle,” she slid a finger between her knuckles, “and depression,” she pointed to herself and tried a smile.

  “H-V-R-S-D. You can try to come up with your own little mnemonic to memorize that, but if you don’t mind sounding a bit goofy, Hidden Valley Ranch Salad Dressing does the job. Hill, Valley, Ridge, Saddle, Depression. Keep working on those.”

  Jenna was… astounding. Not that Nate had much in the way of doubt for his friend, but seeing her up there giving an expert lecture on this only grew his respect for her.

  “That’s great and all,” Harmony spoke up after a minute, “but… how are we supposed to know if you’re right, or just making things up on the spot?”

  “That’s fair,” Jenna frowned with a shrug before closing her eyes.

  “You could always just not listen,” Nico offered. “See how long you can last as an Elite with failing grades.”

  “No, it’s a fair question,” Jenna held up a placating hand. “None of you should just blindly trust me. How many times have you heard on the news of some scam artist or other claiming to be an Oracle and running away with a whole bunch of people’s money? The claim of being an Oracle should come with some proof or demonstration. Take out your study pad, search the Tactical Field Guide, go to pages 21, 23, 27, and 35. You will find everything I just said as well as pictures of a hand demonstrating all 5 features on page 42.”

  Jenna gave the class a moment to wander over to Nate’s desk, finding him practicing the hand movements. She tried a smile, swallowing hard, her face already red from public speaking. “How’d I do?”

  “You’re amazing,” Nate responded immediately, blinking at her in disbelief. “You got all that from looking at today?”

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “And Wednesday when I found out about the test,” she nodded, her cheeks turning a slightly darker pink. “But you’re good with the five major features?”

  Nate gave a shit-eating grin and nodded, “Oh yeah. Hole, Veranda, Rocks, Something or other, and Ditch. Just like you taught me.”

  “Yeah,” she rolled her eyes and couldn’t keep herself from smiling, “just remember there’s a good reason why I came to check up on you and what you retained of my lesson before checking on anyone else. Here,” she held out her fist. “What’s first?”

  “Hill,” Nate chuckled, tapping her first knuckle. “Valley,” he swooped his finger between her knuckles, “ridge,” he dragged his finger across the top of her hand, “saddle,” he pointed, “and depression.” With that last movement, he took her hand in his to tilt it sideways and point to the hole formed. He didn’t let go of her hand. “You’re good at this,” his eyes met hers and he momentarily forgot everything that had been running through his mind at that exact moment. “Thank you. For yesterday. Bringing me food, I mean. I think I overworked myself on Saturday and my Reader Trait ran a bit wild off its leash. Good news though: I’ll only be doing exactly that every Saturday for the foreseeable future.”

  “How’s that good news?” Jenna chuckled, not moving to withdraw her hand. “And,” her face turned an even deeper shade of pink, “can I… have this back?” she smirked and wiggled her hand still clasped in his. “I think my other students are starting to get some wrong ideas about the kind of personal tutoring I offer.”

  “Yeah,” Nate shook his head as if just now realizing he still held her hand, forced a chuckle, and let go.

  “Uh, hey,” another voice cut across their moment, “I’m, uh, having some trouble learning too. Can I hold your hand?”

  “Buzz off, Tony!” Jenna turned on him immediately.

  “So hot and then so cold. I thought we were forever, babe,” the boy- Tony, acted out as if he’d taken a stab through the heart, but laughed theatrically.

  “You two know each other?” Nate arched his eyebrows looking between them.

  “Ugh,” Jenna growled and marched up to the front of the room again. “Okay, that’s enough practice. Let’s move on.”

  Jenna spent the remainder of class also demonstrating a draw, spur, cliff, cut, and fill and a hundred questions about how to memorize all of those. She then moved on to various tactical advantages and disadvantages, but fielded answers to those questions with hand waves about tactics not being quite so important yet.

  Breakfast was a hurried affair for the class of Elites, getting only half an hour with the required travel time to and from the cafeteria back into the main cluster of university buildings. The patrolling faculty certainly made known that this was no time for socialization, interrupting any conversation to get in the students’ faces and shout at them to use their mouths to eat faster. Nate had to hand it to the faculty patrolling the dining hall: they got creative with their language.

  “You better shove that useless hole full of food before my foot finds a new boot to wear! You know what a vacuum is, Firstie?- DON’T STOP TO ANSWER ME, DUMBASS. JUST NOD YOUR HEAD AND KEEP EATING! A vacuum is what you better be to that food on your tray. Hoover up, Firsties!”

  For the life of him, he couldn’t come up with a reason as to why they had to endure this kind of aggressive shouting over breakfast, but it wasn’t exactly like he was in an environment where questions were welcomed. His eyes flicked over to Jenna, but she just shook her head and stuffed more food in her face.

  When breakfast finally ended, the same faculty that patrolled around breakfast also marched the students back to the university buildings, taking delight in throwing out verbal abuse after verbal abuse for the horrendous formation and marching ability of their class who had never been taught how to march or create a formation.

  It wasn’t until they sat behind a desk once again that they finally had the freedom to speak, but by that point, the professor had strolled into the room to begin his lecture.

  “Good morning. I’ve been informed that I have the distinct pleasure of addressing this year’s class of Elites. I am Professor Brown, as in the color of your uniform. And this is Administration I. Here, we learn to handle resources. Can anyone give me an example of a resource?” The voice came from a thin man in a fine suit with gray hair orbiting a shiny bald head.

  “Credits,” Tobi fired off immediately.

  “Absolutely. Credits make the world go ‘round. Credits in hand are generally thought of as liquid assets, as they are readily interchangeable for goods and services- they take shape into whatever you need in that moment. Can anyone think of another resource?”

  “Raw materials,” Harmony spoke confidently.

  “Ah, yes!” Professor Brown snapped a finger. “Often overlooked by Gate delvers is the possibility of harvesting raw materials from Gates. Minerals, herbs, precious gems, even leather or hide are all around you and available to take into custody for processing.”

  “Who you know,” Nico offered without further prompting.

  “Networking. Again, often overlooked,” Professor Brown nodded his head again. “People tend to forget that people are a resource to draw upon as well. Probably one of the highest reasons a Guild collapses is because they haven’t been managing their personnel resources properly. Very good. Anyone else?”

  Nate turned to look at Jenna, waiting for her to fill in an answer, but she was focused on taking notes.

  After a brief pause Nate spoke up, “Well, you mentioned liquid assets, but there’s also investments, finished products, and services you can provide. Anything you own that generates revenue, be it renting land or owning a pencil factory. The key is: assets require ownership.”

  This time, Jenna did turn her head to face him, giving him a searching look. She and most of the rest of the class.

  “Very well summed up,” Professor Brown chuckled softly. “I see your parents weren’t remiss in teaching you about financial literacy. You hit the key point I wanted to touch upon. Assets require ownership. While most people are horrified to then admit that people are assets, the truth is: if you pay your employees, then you have come to a consensual agreement of buying their time. You now have responsibility for and authority over your employees, and in effect, own them during agreed upon work hours. Along the lines of ownership, a raw vein of ore in a Gate isn’t your asset until you’ve mined it and safely brought the unrefined ore out again. This is why Gates are not assets even though Guilds may purchase shares. What they actually purchase are percentage profits of any raw material asset acquired from the Gate. But I’m getting ahead of myself. This class will not have any sort of examination or test or quiz. Instead, you will be graded on a semester-long project. I’m sure the Dean thoroughly explained the concept of your Company and Battalion?” the elderly gentlemen chuckled knowingly.

  “Um. No?” Nico was the first to speak up.

  Harmony followed up, “Yeah, we got this weird email over the weekend mentioning Companies and Battalions, but it sounded half-drunk. Then we got an invitation from the dean to a group chat, but no one said anything.”

  “I did,” Sheila stared wide-eyed at her classmates.

  Nate frowned, taking out his study pad to realize that he had gotten a group chat invitation from the dean on Sunday. Accepting it, he saw only one message: ‘G’day y’all. Congrats on making it one day closer to your death.’

  “Y’all?” Nate couldn’t help but question aloud.

  “I’m trying to Americanize. Isn’t that what you say here?”

  “Really?” Professor Brown frowned. “He didn’t waste your time before the scavenger hunt going over endless details for the upcoming semester?”

  “He tried to,” Tony scoffed. “Little Miss Fortune Teller put the kibosh on that though. And oh wow,” he took on a mocking voice, “looks like another unilateral decision on her part that came back to bite us in the ass.”

  “Dick,” Nate couldn’t help but mutter just loud enough that hopefully Tony heard. The young man gave a sharp look in Nate’s direction, letting him know his prod hadn’t gone unnoticed.

  “You got a problem, guy?” Tony challenged.

  “Actually, yeah,” Nate stood up. “She’s done nothing but help us since we’ve got here.”

  “What a croc of shit,” Tony shook his head and laughed. “Hear that, sweet heart? Mr. White Knight thinks you’re some sort of altruistic angel. I guess he’s choosing not to see how only your group managed to pass? The rest of us got just as screwed over as if she said nothing. Except, turns out, that we’re even more screwed over cause at least the dean would have provided us with valuable information about this coming semester. “ At this, Tony threw his arms up in the air and sat back down with a huff. “Simp,” he muttered, just loud enough for Nate to hear.

  “That’s quite enough,” Professor Brown warned against any further discussion or retaliation. “I will be more than delighted to finally be able to fulfill my obligations to you as your instructor on this matter. For this class, each of you will receive a Company of 20 students selected from your year’s normal HPGD class. While relatively unimportant now, the students assigned to you will stay with you throughout your studies barring their own HPGD course failure. Any member lost will be replaced by a student on the waiting list. Your semester long project will be a mock trial of sorts, with you acting as a guild leader and your Company acting as your guild. You will manage your guild’s assets, gate delves, and personnel. I know you haven’t yet had your Tactics class so much of what comes next will have many questions, but please do save those specific questions for when you enter into your Tactics class as your professor there will better be able to answer them. Upon managing your finances, you will hopefully quickly come to the conclusion that your guild needs a source of revenue. As such, you will be simulating Gate Delves for your guild. This requires planning, scheduling, and quick thinking to direct your team through each gate to come back alive and with enough finances to pay the men and women who put their lives on the line for humanity’s sake. Their wages are yours to decide. Keep in mind that next semester, your guild members will have to agree to their wages, so it’s best to keep a realistic model for this semester.

  “As for your Battalions, I suppose you’ll need to form groups of five within your class if you haven’t already. Five Companies makes a Battalion. You will treat your Battalion as sister guilds, coordinating delves and sending aid when needed. And you will need to send aid throughout the year. Your goal is to become as profitable as possible. That being said, each member of your guild that dies sets you back 10,000 credits, so do try to take relative care of your members. Keep in mind that this loss will only increase as you progress through your years here at university and we are being very generous keeping it so low for your first semester. Once a teammate ‘dies’, they will be replaced by themselves, and have their contracts renegotiated.

  “I’ll spend most of my class time going over finance reports, event reports, disciplinary actions, as well as honorary recommendations. From you, I expect to see finance reports weekly at a minimum. The other kinds of reports are event related, so cannot be regularly requested, but you’ll need a minimum of five of each by the end of the semester. Make an event up and how you handled that situation if you really have to.

  “The main goal of my class is to prepare you for various leadership roles. Naturally in the real world, these reports would be in several different hands instead of just one, but knowing how to do them all prepares versatile officers. I’m assuming you have questions?”

  Fiona raised a hand. “How are we graded?”

  “Profitability. More revenue means you can afford to higher more members to your guild, meaning larger operations. For now though, you will be stuck with 20 members. Going into bankruptcy constitutes a failing grade. If you aren’t quite bankrupt, but still bleeding credits, D. A guild that has made no profit will receive a C this first semester. This is your benchmark: pulling gains even with expenses. Since this is your first time overseeing a guild, we decided to be lenient and let you experiment until you get a better handle on finances. Keep in mind that next semester, pulling even will be considered borderline failure. Back to the now, showing profitability will give you a B, and significant profitability will garner you an A. Your Battalion will be graded as a conglomerate corporation, so don’t leave your sister guilds out to dry.”

  “What’s our starting capital?” Nico started off. “Are there other expenses besides salary like rent, energy bills, supplies, and transport?”

  “Yes,” Professor Brown simply nodded. “You each start with 500,000 credits loaned out to you, 20 hard working guild members, no land, and no base of operations. Each Company will choose the location for their base of operations by the end of class today. Keep in mind that both communication and transportation will play an essential role for your Battalion for the upcoming semester. The location of your base of operations will determine your expenses as well as local resources and accessabilities, so plan carefully. The further you are away from the Rent, the fewer Gates spawn. This can be both boon and bane.”

  “Do we have a Battalion Commander, or is that for us to decide?” Tobi spoke out.

  “Ah, fantastic question. This first semester, no. In your second semester, you will be assigned a fourth year as your Battalion Commander. This is to whom you will be sending in all of your Company reports. For now, you’ll have to confer among yourselves the best way to delegate authority for your Battalion. Any other pertinent questions?” He looked around the room and no one said anything. “Very well. Then I have here charts and maps of available locations, as well as a report for each location pertaining to expenses, opportunities and various risks all tiered I to V. Philadelphia, for instance, would be both a Tier V risk and opportunity for any guild that wishes to headquarter there. In contrast, the Dakotas would pose a Tier III risk with a Tier I opportunity, as they have bands of patrolling demons left over from various Gate breaks while having very few Gates spawn in their area and while you can attempt a crusade to fight off demon armies, you’ll quickly discover that the lack of resource-rich Gates isn’t conducive to financing a private army. That being said, I’ll leave the rest of today’s remaining class time to get your Battalions situated. Please have one representative from each Battalion take a map and area report.”

  Nate’s group formed instantly around Jenna, all of them waiting to listen to her direction.

  “What?” Jenna looked around the group of faces waiting on her next words.

  “Aren’t you gonna tell us which cities to set up our bases in?” Huck questioned.

  “Oh. Everywhere sucks,” Jenna shrugged. “And there are no right answers.”

  “Well, do some places suck less?” Fiona led.

  “I don’t know,” Jenna gave an aggravated sigh. “I’m gonna be honest with you, this class was not in my scope as something I’d need to look ahead on.”

  “Wait, really?” Huck chuckled good-naturedly.

  “There’s only so much time in the day,” Jenna replied defensively. “I can’t keep my eyes on everything. This class is called Administration for crying out loud, why would I think I’d need to spend time looking at how to file paperwork?”

  Nate gave a solid “Huh,” and paused. “For some reason I thought you were some sort of perfectionist.”

  “What? No,” Jenna shook her head vigorously. “Things rarely ever go according to plan- that’s the first lesson every Oracle learns.”

  “Well, couldn’t you use your Trait now and see ahead where we should go?” Fiona prodded as Mi nodded in agreement. “We have the rest of class, so it’s not exactly like we’ll be rushing. And it’s like Professor Marvin said: while everyone else is working with land-based data, all we really need is future-based data.”

  “Except you’ve forgotten one thing,” Jenna held up a finger. “I am absolutely exhausted.”

  “What?” Fiona actually stepped back. “Why? How?”

  “I overused my Trait over the weekend,” she shook her head, loose ringlets of brown curls metronoming in time with her movements.

  “What happened over the weekend?” Fiona’s face scrunched up in confusion.

  “It was the weekend before classes started. I was trying to get ahead of the curve. And there were also a few personal things I really had to look into. I’m tapped out. Plus you can’t always rely on me for every bit of future advice. You’re going to have to make your own decisions based on what information you have every once in a while, okay? I’m not a cheat code for amazing grades.”

  Fiona’s jaw hung open in dismay as her dreams of an easy ride shattered visibly in her eyes. Nate couldn’t help but try to keep his chuckle contained inwardly.

  “Blue skies, Jenna,” Nate couldn’t keep his chuckle in any longer. “You’re not a dating guide, you’re not an alarm clock, and now you’re not a cheat code to get the easy A? It’s almost like you want to have friends based on your personality rather than what you can give them.”

  She gave him a look backed by such a weight of emotion that Nate couldn’t possibly decipher its meaning, “Nate, this is why-” she stopped herself with a soft sight and a shake of her head. And with that, the intense look vanished. “Nevermind,” a faint smile graced her lips for a brief moment. “That being said, I think there are some limitations we should put on ourselves.”

  Nate nodded his head. “Professor Brown mentioned communication and transportation would factor in at some point. We should make sure we’re close enough to have supply lines without depending on a single route. Probably all in-state or within say a 100 mile radius of a central point.”

  “That’s good planning,” Fiona nodded. “And if we treat this Battalion as a small business to begin with, then I think we shouldn’t be randomly clustered, but linear. We should form a chain of supply and communications, that way everybody already knows which direction to send something.”

  Nate shook his head emphatically. “We should put a focus on each base having control over some resource or other. We’re graded as a Battalion instead of individual companies, so even if one company guards access to food, water, and transportation, that gives the rest of the Battalion the ability to focus better on delving gates.”

  Fiona narrowed her eyes at him. “A supply chain is called that for a reason. In a better world, yes, we could just send a caravan or train to any which city regardless of direction, but we’re dealing with a demon invasion. We need protected routes to deliver goods, even if that means sacrificing time to deliver.”

  “I’m not against having a chain of some sort,” Nate held up a hand in defense, “I’m saying we shouldn’t focus on linearity. The resources we have access to will be more important-”

  “This isn’t a computer game where we’ll be trading silk between cities,” Huck interrupted. “Or where we have one base focused on food production and another on industry or wealth. I understand diversification is important, but each of us should be largely self-sufficient. This isn’t going to be an easy ride where nothing happens. Routes will be cut off, demon hordes will march, Gates will spawn in, and we’ll get cut off from one another. What are you gonna do when whatever podunk city farmer Nate here decides to settle near gets sacked because no one thinks protecting the boonies is logistically feasible and all of us were relying on him to deliver food?”

  “How do you know all that’s going to happen?” Fiona challenged. “We’re just getting our feet wet. How can they expect us to handle a full-blown invasion?”

  “Same way humanity started off 110 years back- we don’t. And failure is the blade of learning, so long as you live long enough to grow from the experience,” Huck gave her a flat look. “I’m pretty sure that’ll be the whole point of this class- showing us how unprepared we actually are.”

  “Well, gee, if only there were someone around who could give us a head’s up for what we might expect to encounter on this project,” Fiona blurted out with passive-aggressive flair.

  Mi joined the circle, tossing a map of the USA into the middle of the group as he flipped through a couple of pages of reports. Today he was shorter with sandy brown hair and thick glasses surrounding gray eyes. Pushing up his glasses, he began, “The Midwest is prime territory. We need to claim an area there before the other groups catch on. There’s a few good reasons why Lighthouse is stationed in Chicago. Clean water, good food, centralized location far enough from the Rift that Gate spawning is more or less stabilized. I’d recommend running North to South with access to the Mississippi instead of West and East with nothing but land between us.”

  Everyone stared blankly at Mi for a moment.

  “Some sort of Reader,” Mi shrugged. “Low Tier. Literally lets him read faster with a minor information processing boost. Saw the kid on my way to class this morning, thought it’d be a useful ability.”

  “Wait, you can Shift into people you’ve seen before, not just whoever you see in front of you?”

  “First off- Mimic, not Shifter. Second: I can keep a few Traits on retainer for a bit of time,” Mi answered with a shrug, his voice stereotypically nasal.

  “Kind of cute for a nerd,” Fiona gave a lopsided grin. “Any idea where this guy was headed this morning?”

  “So we’re using the river as a means of backup transportation?” Nate leaned back in thought.

  “Oh, that too, I guess,” Mi shrugged. “I thought it’d be helpful ‘cause demons don’t like running water.”

  “What?” Huck narrowed his eyes.

  “That’s vampires, sweetie,” Fiona chuckled.

  “Aren’t vampires burned by running water?” Jenna chimed in with an amused grin.

  Mi frowned, apparently serious. He knit his eyebrows together as if not understanding what the rest of his group had missed. “Demons… don’t like running water? You… didn’t-?” his frown deepened. “It’s the main reason Philadelphia hasn’t been sacked yet. It’s right across the Delaware from the Rift and pretty much only the Hudson River stands between it and the broken Tier V Gates of New York.”

  “St. Louis is right on the Mississippi though,” Nate frowned in confusion. “And that place got razed to the ground not even ten years back.”

  “Yeah, they were preparing and planning for Philly,” Mi frowned again, looking at his group in confusion. “It was a rehearsal. You guys… didn’t know that?”

  Every eye in the group turned toward Jenna whose eyes were already milky white. “That’s… not good,” she muttered before snapping back to the present.