I reread the quest over and over again. Does the universe take some perverted glee in trying to ruin my life? First it was the System and zombies, then it's the random forest, and now this? The fuck even is a Grave Walker? And we only have 72 to find it and slay it?

  "You guys got the quest too right?" Someone behind me asked.

  The group started talking amongst themselves. It appears that the quest was received by all of us. But something stole and held my attention.

  On the school grounds below a single figure approached the purple wall. It walked into the haze as if it didn't see it, only to stumble back and fall. The figure slowly recovered themselves before trying to walk through the wall a second time. Then a third and a fourth. Every time the figure tried it would bounce off and stumble back.

  "So what do we do?" A question from the conversation behind me dragged my focus back to the group.

  "We find it and kill it." Hanna declares.

  "Have you gone all murder hobo on us? The fuck is wrong with you Hanna? I know you're all emo and shit, but murder isn't going to get you the attention you so despretly want." Derrick made his way back to where Sandra was lying.

  "Get your head out of your ass Derrick. Do you really want to wait and figure out what it means by forfeiture of life? Because I can tell you. It means we'll die." Hanna countered.

  "You guys are the ones with their heads up their asses. I'm the only one being reasonable here. This isn't something we should be trying to deal with. It's the job of the adults."

  "What if all the adults are dead?" I ask.

  My words lay a blanket of silence over the group as all eyes turn to me. I know they don't want to hear it but it's a thought that's been scratching at the back of my mind for a while. Mrs. Hernandez was one of the first to go feral. How many other adults turned? How many books have I read where all the adults vanish or die of a disease leaving the children and teenagers to fend for themselves?

  "Mrs. Hernandez was one of the first to turn into a zombie, how can we be sure that the other adults didn't turn also? Despite the power still working no one has made an announcement to the school. Which I take to mean that the office got overrun and is too dangerous for a teacher or other adult to get there."

  "I didn't even think about that. Fuck, we need to get moving we don't have much time to waste." Hanna says.

  "Can you guys keep it down? My head is killing me." An unfamiliar voice asks.

  "SANDY! How do you feel? Are you okay?" Derrick rapid fire asks Sandra.

  Derrick has the cheerleader pulled into his arms as he brushes strands of hair out of her face. The way he holds her speaks to a gentleness I've rarely seen in life, let alone from the large jock.

  Sebastian and Hanna both rush over to the couple. They begin fussing over her in what I can only assume is them making sure that she's okay. After a few moments the blond cheerleader pushes the two away from her.

  "The hell is wrong with you two. Stop groaping me sickos. I have a boyfrie…" Sandra breaks out into a painful sounding cough. "Boyfriend." She wheezes out as the coughing fit ends.

  "Is she okay? What did you two do to her?" Derrick demands of Sebsatian and Abby.

  "Stop talking so loudly baby. My head is killing me." Sandra asks Derrick. "What is even going on?"

  "Fuck I'm sorry wasn't thinking Baby. You got hurt and these two did some fuckery to try and help you, but clearly they fucked up."

  "So that wasn't a dream? Kevin really bite me?" Sandra's hand rose to her throat. Her fingers glosses over the scabbed skin and an expression of horror befell her. "I was supposed to have my homecoming picture this weekend! That fucking creep ruined them!"

  "Honey, I think your weekend was ruined by more then just Kevin biting you." Hanna says. "Let's catch you up to speed, it's the zombie apocalypse and we only have three days to kill a creature called a Grave Walker or we all die."

  …

  "Who gave the emo drugs?" Sandra asks.

  "Fuck if I know but she's been on this shit for a while." Derrick answers her.

  A snicker from Sandra sends her into another coughing fit. This one lasts much longer then the previous one. As it pitters out Sandra is left looking noticeably more pale, beads of sweat dot her forehead.

  "I don't feel good." Sandra says weakly.

  "You're running a fever, though I don't know how high." Abby explains. "I can try my skill again, but I don't think it works on illnesses. You might have gotten an infection but your wound doesn't feel warm to the touch, nor is it displaying any clear signs of infection. What are the symptoms you're experiencing?"

  "Are you a Doctor or something? I don't know. Headache, nausia, sore throat." Sandra answers.

  "Its the goal, or at least it was. I think the nurses office should have some medication to manage the symptoms but I think we should get you to a hospital as soon as possible."

  "That's if we get out of here alive." Michael mumbles.

  "What did you say you little weasle?" Derrick barked.

  "Knock it off! Both of you!" Hanan positions herself between the two. "What the fuck is wrong with both of you? Derrick, being a dick isn't going to help you or us as a group. Michael, being pessimistic here isn't helpful. Our goals have changed, we need to find this Grave Walker and kill it. For that we need a plan to get out of this room and look for whatever that is. So unless you have something to say that will help us in getting out of here, keep it to yourself. Am I understood?"

  Her eyes blazed with determination as she eyed each of us. Her gaze left no room for interpretation. There was no room in her mind for us to not cooperate.

  "We'll need better equipment." Sebastian stated. "Only three of us got weapons from the tutorial, and while Jason has the hammer I think we'll need more if we plan to fight our way through the school."

  "That's not a bad idea. We should also try and make some armor." Michael adds.

  "Where are we supposed to get armor?" Hanna asks.

  "We can probably make some out of paper or something. It's not like we're trying to stop a bullet. In the movies, they usually make bracers and shin guards with magazines or something. I was thinking we can use pages from the textbook and tape them down."

  "Alright, Michael help me strip pages from the books. Abigail, could you look for some tape? Sebastian, could you look for something we can use as a weapon?" Hanna moved to one of the bookshelves lining the walls.

  Michael followed her and the two began taking textbooks off the shelf and setting them aside. Abby moved to the teacher's desk and began rifling through it, while Sebastian moved to a wardrobe standing against a wall.

  As the other set to work I find a seat to fall back into. I want to help the others but my skin feels like it's on fire. To top that off my lungs burn as if I just ran a marathon. A hallowness inside of me was present after the fight that was threatening to give me a migrain.

  Using my shirt sleeve I wipe the lingering blood off my face. The white sleeve of my dress shirt came back a deep red. That's right, I just killed more people. Why doesn't this feel real?

  Is it the lightheadedness? The exhaustion permiating my body to my bones? I need to get some sleep, that would probably help me feel better. But there is too much to be done for me to waste time on sleeping.

  Shaking the cotton webbs from my mind I force myself to focus. A blinking blue box in the corner draws my focus. As I try to focus on the light a series of windows appear before me.

  [Level 1 Zombie Slain +10 Aetherium]

  [Level 2 Zombie Slain +15 Aetherium]

  [Level 1 Zombie Slain +10 Aetherium]

  [Level 1 Zombie Slain +10 Aetherium]

  [Level 1 Zombie Slain +10 Aetherium]

  [Level 1 Zombie Slain +10 Aetherium]

  [Level 1 Zombie Slain +10 Aetherium]

  [Level 1 Zombie Slain +10 Aetherium]

  [Level 1 Zombie Slain +10 Aetherium]

  [Level 1 Zombie Slain +10 Aetherium]

  [Total Aetherium: 105]

  As I read through the windows I realize that they are a record of those that I killed. Ten that's how many I've robbed the lives of. But is it really robbing them of life? Are the zombies really alive?

  Hanna believes that they're not and everyone aside from Derrick seems to be going along with that. None of them are treating me like the mass murderer I've become. Or are they?

  Hanna didn't ask me to help prepare for leaving this room. I also saw the look of fear she gave me after the fighting ended. Maybe they are too scared to treat me like a murderer in fear of me retaliating.

  I don't know what to think. The fog of exhaustion permiates my every thought, making them slippery and hard to hang onto. I really chose the wrong night to pull an all-nighter.

  Monster or not I can't sit back and not help them. At least the void in me has filled slightly, alleviating the threat of an impending migraine. Rising from the chair I make my way over to Abby to help her.

  "How are you doing?" She asks me as I approach her.

  "Fine, just tired."

  "You should have tried to sleep earlier."

  "Someone needed to have stayed up."

  "But it didn't need to be you. Out of anyone here, you probably needed the rest the most."

  "I'm fine." I shrug.

  "Clearly you're not Jason. The bags under your eyes are deeper than the marina trench. You need to take care of yourself Jason." Her blue eyes bleed with concern and worry.

  Concern and worry for me. How can anyone worry about a murderer? Why does she not hate me? I know that she is a kind person, but she has to have their limits.

  "I'm sorry. I'll do better of taking care of myself."

  I know it's not much of a promise. I can't prioritize myself in a situation like this, but hopefully, my words will put her at ease. Her expression does soften at my words so they must appease her a little.

  "You better."

  "So… Need any help?" I ask.

  "No, I found some duck tape and scotch tape if we run out. Maybe Sebastian could use your help."

  Nodding I leave Abby to take the rolls of tape over to Michael and Hanna. I find Sebastian rummaging through the wardrobe. Costumes from plays that Mrs. Hernandez directed fill the closet as well as props.

  "Need any help?" I ask.

  "I don't know. I'm trying to figure out what in here can be used as a weapon. I found an old wooden broom that I'm sure would make a sturdy enough spear. Do you think this would make for a good weapon?" Sebastian pulls a short wooden club.

  Taking the offered prop I find that it feels too light. Grabbing it on both ends I try to snap the prop and to my surprise, it splits in half as easy as a dry spaghetti noodle. With the core of the prop revealed I can tell that this was a paper mache prop.

  "Well damn. What about this?" Sebastian offers me a kite shield-like prop.

  The shield is clearly made of plastic and painted with some sort of metallic paint to give the sheen of metal. It's also light but feels more sturdy in my hands. As I try to bend it the plastic resists enough that I doubt a zombie would be able to break it.

  "Probably. Try hitting it." I equip the plastic shield and present it to Sebastian to hit.

  He cocks back a fist and strikes the shield. A dull thud resonates from the hit but no clear signs of damage can be seen on the prop. Stress testing the plastic prop again only certifies my belief that it's worth some use.

  "I think this should be of some use. Are there any more in there?"

  Sebastian pops his head into the wardrobe for a moment, "No looks like that was the only one."

  "Damn, a shield to keep them at bay while we attack would be nice. What else is in there?"

  "Not much if I'm being honest. Oh what about this?"

  Sebastian pulls a wooden bat out of the wardrobe and hands it to me. It's an older thick Louisville slugger bat. It feels sturdy enough in my hands and is hefty to boot.

  "I believe it's made of Ash but I could be wrong on that. If someone swung that full force I bet it could do some damage." Sebastian says as I swing the bat around.

  "No doubt about that. With this, we have seven weapons and a shield right?"

  "Are you counting your hammer?"

  "I don't see why not."

  "Then yes, so we still need one more weapon. Do you think Mrs. Hernandez's tool bag has anything in it?"

  "I don't think so. Not unless someone wants to use a screwdriver."

  "That just seems like a bad idea."

  …

  Silence settles between us as we both try and figure out what else can be used as a weapon. As I look around the room trying to find something that could be used as a weapon I can't stop my mind from wondering.

  Why is Sebastian also being so chill with me? I get that Abby is an incredibly kind person but why haven't the others freak out? Why are they treating me like I didn't murder ten people today?

  "Can I ask you something?" Sebastian whispers to me.

  "Sure."

  "Do you think Sandra is going to turn into a zombie?" His words were spoken lightly making it hard to actually hear him. As he spoke his eyes darted around to the others in the classroom.

  "What?" I whisper back.

  "I don't want to freak the others out, but she was bitten and now she's running a fever. In all of the movies, a bite is what turns people into zombies, right?"

  My eyes fall to the blond girl being cared for by Derrick. She is visibly paler then I remember her being. Which is weird, since she's one of the most tan people I know. For the Pacific Northwest that's not a huge feat to accomplish, but she took pride in her tanness. She would constantly brag to her gaggle of friends about how her dad pays for her to go to a tanning salon all the time. So for her to be paler then everyone else in the class right now, that is cause for concern.

  "I don't know. I wasn't expecting the others to turn, but I also don't really know how any of this works."

  "That's fair I guess. I don't know. I can't shake the feeling that she's a ticking time bomb. It's probably just nerves but would you mind keeping an eye on her? I'll be doing so, but the more people watching the more likely we are to notice anything."

  "Why don't we all monitor her?"

  "I highly doubt Derrick will like us accusing her of being infected or anything like that. I also don't want the others worrying and outcasting her in case she isn't infected."

  "Why are you asking me? Wouldn't Hanna be willing to help without causing a fuss?"

  It takes Sebastian a moment to answer my question. He rubs his pointer finger with his thumb as he thinks over my question.

  "Honestly, I don't know. I just feel like out of anyone here you'd be the first to react to her being a zombie. I think you'd be willing to do what it takes to make sure we are safe."

  Oh. I get it now. They aren't freaking out over me being a murderer because it's benefiting them. To them, I'm like an attack dog. A monster collared and used for their own benefit. I don't know how to feel about this.

  "I see. Yeah, I'll keep an eye on her, but I don't know if I'll be able to do anything if she does turn."

  "You underestimate yourself, buddy. Now, let's get back to finding another weapon, would you mind checking Mrs. Hernandez's tool bag? If not for a weapon then for anything useful?"

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  "Sure thing."

  Leaving Sebastian I make my way to my tool bag. Is being someone's attack dog better than being a monster locked behind bars? I mean military personnel are trained to kill and in times of war, humans kill humans all the time. Yet when they return home they are seen as heroes.

  They're still murderes but public opinion of them isn't negative. I wonder how they feel about that. Do they feel guilty? Or do they accept that they did what was required of them? Did I do what was required of me?

  No. I did more. Far more. I gave into the rage and used the situation as an excuse to lash out. I'm not a monster because I killed or murdered people. I'm a monster because I can't control myself.

  The tool bag doesn't have anything of real note. I do find a roll of duck tape that I toss to Abby and the others. However, the rest of the bag is generic tools like screwdrivers, a level, a measuring tape, and a few other odds and ends. However, while rummaging through the bag an inclination of thought forms in the back of my mind.

  Making my way over to a desk I examine the framing holding the wood-like surface of the desk. Only four screws hold the desk surface down. It wouldn't be hard to remove them.

  The tool back also had a chisel and with the hammer it wouldn't be hard to gouge holes in the desk. Eyeing the pile of bags I visually measure the length of the nylon straps.

  "Hey, Sebastian?" I call out.

  "Yeah, what's up?" He asks while making his way over to me.

  "What do you think about making these into shields?" I ask him tapping on the desk.

  Sebastian eyes the desk and I can tell that he doesn't really understand.

  "Look," I say lifting the desk to show the four screws. "If we take the surfaces off we can use the chisel in Mrs. Hernandez's tool bag to make some holes for straps." Setting the desk down I point back to the pile of bags. "We can use the straps to make the handles and arm braces."

  As I explain his dark eyes alight with understanding.

  "Fucking hell Jason, you're a genius! I'll get the surfaces off, you make the holes." Sebastian exclaims racing for the tool bag.

  Returning he hands me the chisel and sets to work on removing the screws. In the time it takes some to retrieve the hammer he has already removed one of the desk surfaces. Laying my arm against the surface I measure out where I think the straps should go.

  I plan my holes so that two straps will brace the surface against the arm while a third could be used as a handle for better control. I figure this way if we need our hands free we won't have to set the shield down.

  "What are you two doing?" Michael asks as he approaches Sebastian and I.

  His arms forearms and shins are layered in paper in and tape. With the specs of blood dotting his uniform, I would almost mistake him for an extra on some zombie flick. Well, I guess that was the plan, wasn't it?

  "Making shields for people." Sebastian answers him.

  "Sick. I was sent over here to send one of you for the paper armor fitting."

  "Here take over for me." Sebastian hands Michael the screwdriver. "We need two more surfaces removed from the frames."

  Michael takes the offered tool. Sebstian leaves, making his way over to the girls. Michael sets to work removing the screws and I continue my work in silence. Chisling holes out for the straps isn't hard but still takes a decent amount of effort, only reinforcing my belief that these will make decent shields.

  "Hey, Michael?" I ask.

  "Yeah?"

  "You said this System stuff reminds you of some books you read right?"

  "Yeah, there are some litRPG books out there with very similar apocalypses."

  "So what happened to the people in those stories?"

  "It sort of varies from story to story. For the most part, the main character gets ridiculously strong and ends up fighting stronger and stronger enemies until either the day is saved or the hero sacrifices themselves for the better of mankind."

  "I hope we get the forming ending."

  "It'll probably take a while but I'm sure the government will be rolling in to save the day. After they deal with their mess of course and restructure."

  "You think so?"

  "Dude, are you kidding me? The US military has enough ammunition to kill the population of the US like twice over. And that's just bullets mind you. With all the larger mutations and classified arsenal, the government has I can't see them failing to save the day."

  "How long do you think it'll take?"

  "I don't know. I guess it depends on how widespread this is and how much of the government has fallen. Probably not super long. But this system does make things weird."

  "How so?"

  "You know how we get Aetherium for killing?" I nod at his question. "Well, imagine if people using guns still get Aetherium for killing. What if the system awards Aetherium when you kill with like a grenade or some other ordinance? What if it works with nukes? How much does raising our stats actually affect us? Could the President or someone drop a nuke on like New York and gain god-like strength instantly?"

  Well, shit. How far would someone go for near god-like power? I don't know if this System crap is capable of giving someone that sort of strength, but just the thought of it is terrifying. How many people have access to weapons of mass destruction? How many of them are willing to commit mass genocide for power? My gut tells me too many.

  "Have you increased any of your attributes?" Michael asks.

  "Not aside from the one the tutorial made me increase. Why? Have you?"

  "Yeah, I've increased my intelligence and Wisdom to see if it changed how much Aether I have."

  "How do you know how much Aether you have?"

  Michael gives me a deadpan stare that makes me feel like he's calling me an idiot. As if the answer to my question is so simple a child would be able to answer it.

  "It's on the status screen."

  "Really?" I ask. To my recollection the status page never said anything about Aether, but maybe I missed it. Summoning the page I read through it contents trying to find the section with my Aether count.

  [Name: Jason Everett]

  [Aetherium: 105]

  [Vitality: 1]

  [Strength: 2]

  [Endurance: 1]

  [Agility: 1]

  [Dexterity: 1]

  [Intelligence: 1]

  [Wisdom: 1]

  "Mine doesn't have a section for Aether. Did you have to do something to unlock it?"

  "What stat did you increase in the tutorial?" Michal asks.

  "My strength."

  "Try increasing your Intelligence. That was the first one I increased and I didn't have to do anything special to see my Aether count."

  Following Michael's direction I focus on my Intellengence and bring up the upgrade window.

  [Intelligence: 1 -> 2]

  [Costs: 10 Aetherium]

  I brace myself and commit the Aetherium to the upgrade. The world goes black. Pain becomes my reality as every synapse is fried from an electrical current surging through my brain. A headache unlike any I've ever felt consumes me as my brain feels to be compressed.

  I don't know how long the pain lasts but it couldn't have been for very long. As the pain recedes enough to open my eyes I find Michael staring at me confused. He hasn't moved from where he was removing the last desk surface.

  "You okay dude?"

  "Yeah." I answer, the pain receeding more and more with each passing moment. "Just wasn't ready for the pain. How did you manage to increase it more then once?"

  "What pain?"

  "Wait. Does increasing your stats not cause pain?"

  "No. Does it for you?"

  "Fuck yeah, when I increased my strength it felt like someone poured liquid fire over my muscles. Just now with my Intelligence, it was like someone set off an electrical bomb off in my brain."

  "That's weird. Didn't you say that your tutorial acted weird or something?"

  "Yeah, I didn't get a skill and it gave me some error code thing as well."

  "What do you mean you didn't get a Skill? Weren't you using one during the fight?"

  "No, not that I'm aware of."

  "Are you sure dude? Your eyes were like glowing."

  "Wait, seriously?"

  "Yeah man. Not gonna lie it was low key kinda creepy."

  "I didn't even know. If I was using a Skill I don't know how."

  "Weird. Maybe the System did give you a skill but it didn't register because of the error. Did increasing your Intelligence reveal your Aether count?"

  [Name: Jason Everett]

  [Aetherium: 95]

  [Vitality: 1]

  [Strength: 2]

  [Endurance: 1]

  [Agility: 1]

  [Dexterity: 1]

  [Intelligence: 2]

  [Wisdom: 1]

  "No, I still don't have a spot for my Aether. All it shows is my Name, Aetherium, and my Attributes."

  "Weird, mine is listed right underneath my Aetherium."

  "Well, this is some bullshit. Why is my Status screen all fucked up? Is there a help desk I can submit a ticket too?" I ask mostly in jest, but part of me was hoping the verbal request would cause a new window to appear before me. Letting me write out a complaint. "So, how much do you think increasing out stats affects us?"

  "Honestly, I don't know. I have my Intelligence at three and my Wisdom at two, but I don't really feel more intelligent or wiser. What about you?"

  "I only raised my Strength and Intelligence to two and haven't really felt much of a difference."

  "If we had the time I'd love to sit and test out the system. I know increasing my Intelligence boosted my Aether by five points for level two and ten for level three. However, I didn't notice any changes when I increased my Wisdom."

  "Do you trust this System thing enough to let it change you so much?" I ask surprised by Michaels's desire to experiment with the System.

  If I'm being completely honest this System crap kind of scares me. I mean how is it changing me? What if increasing my Intelligence allows it to rewrite my memories or alter my personality? How is it even changing us?

  There are just too many unknowns for me to really believe in it. However, the skills the others got do make me feel that in this situation the System is needed. If we're going to survive we'll need every advantage we can get.

  Michael shrugs in answer to my question. "Honestly, part of me has always wished something like this would happen. Not the people dying and all that mind you." Michael quickly adds. "I mean I always wanted to live in a fantasy world where magic was a real tangible force. This System has granted that wish of mine to a degree. If I wanted I can create a stone bullet with nothing but Aether and my will. With my Skill, I can see further than I could ever before and I can even tell where everything is in relationship to me. I know it's dumb but I want to explore this System and find out anything and everything I can about it. I want to see what it'll let us do."

  Michael gets a thousand yard stare in his eyes. As if he is no longer mentally present in this conversation and has instead traveled to far-off lands. We finished removing the last desk and lays it in the pile next to me.

  "I'm going to go collect the straps." Michael stands and makes his way over to the pile of bags and sets to removing the straps from them.

  While he does that I continue my work on gouging the holes in the desks for the straps. As I work I go over Michael's last comment before he got lost in his own thoughts.

  I get his enthusiasm to embrace the System. I mean who hasn't dreamed of being more than human? Especially with the renascence of superhero media recently. I know I've had a few dreams where I was a superhero with superhuman strength and abilities.

  This system has already provided us with those superhuman abilities. Take my strength for an example. I still don't know if it's a skill or not, but I know for a fact that I wasn't capable of throwing people dozens of feet into a wall hard enough to break a bone yesterday. Yet only a handful of hours ago I had done just that.

  How far will the System let us go? Is it worth the risk of exploring it to find out? Or am I just trying to find excuses to get into another life or death fight? To take the life of another living creature.

  Well, technically the zombies aren't living. So is it wrong to kill them? Part of me feels like it is. Even if they were dead before I killed them do I have the right to do so? I know it's classified as self defence and the more I talk with the others the more I feel like that's how they see it.

  I don't know what the right thing to do here is. Trust the system or don't trust the system. Kill the zombies or don't kill the zombies. I wish Sabrina was here. She always knows what to do. I miss her. I wish I had spent more time this morning with her.

  "Hey, Jason." Sebastian calls out to me. "It's your turn, I'll take over here for you."

  Nodding I hand him the hammer and chisel. He sits down and picks up where I left off leaving me to make my way over to Abby and Hanna.

  "Arm please." Hanna asks as I approach the two.

  "Hold on." I ask while unbuttoning my blazer. "I want them under my shirt."

  "Why?" Hanna asks as I start unbuttoning my dress shirt.

  "It'll help hold the bracers in place." I answer, but really the blood staining the shirt has been sticking to my skin. It feels gross and I would love to have something to keep the shirt off of me.

  "Fair enough, just hurry up." Hanna answers.

  I finish taking the shirt off and offer my arm to Hanna. She takes it and starts layering pages against the arm, using the scotch tape to hold the pages together. After she layers roughly an inch of paper over my forearm Abby begins wrapping the pages in ducktape. Hanna takes my other arm and starts working on it.

  "How long do you think you can keep your skill up?" Hanna asks me.

  "I don't think I have a skill, or at least if I do the System is being weird about it."

  "What do you mean? You have some super strength Skill right?"

  I explain to Hanna the error I got and the lack of Aether on my Status page. Abby finishes with my first arm around the time Hanna finishes with my second. Abby starts on my second arm while Hanna starts on my legs while I explain what I know.

  "Doesn't really change much. You have some ability that gives you more strength or whatever. How long can you keep that up?" Hanna asks after I finish my explanation.

  "I don't even know how I activate it or reactivate it. I wasn't even conscious that I was using whatever it the ability is. So I don't know."

  "Maybe you subconsciously activate it when you're fighting?" Hanna theorized.

  "I don't know. When the fight first broke out I was struggling with the zombies and it was like none of my attacks were doing anything." I explain trying to remember the fight clearly. However, through the haze of rage I was experiencing the memories are kind of fuzzy.

  "You're eyes started glowing after you yanked that second zombie off of me. What were you thinking then?" Abby asks while finishing duck-taping my second arm.

  Forcing my way through the hazy memories I try to remember that exact moment. Initially, I remember feeling a lot of panic when the zombies attacked. They were far faster than I was expecting and weirdly strong. Initially, the fight was like trying to wrangle a small army of coked up rabid dogs. But as the fight drew on I grew increasingly frustrated, until I snapped.

  If I remember right I snapped when I saw that second zombie on top of Abby. It was only moments after I pried the first one off of her and the idea of something else having the audacity to attack her in such a manner sent me over the edge. I was consumed by my rage at that point and had a surge of strength.

  Wait, is that the key to the strength? Do I have to let myself go to my anger? My stomach sinks at that thought. What am I? Some kind of barbarian? What if I lose control of myself in my rage?

  "Well?" Hanna asks impatiently, snapping me from my thoughts.

  "Oh, ummm. I think I know what triggered the strength but I'm not confident in my ability to use it at will."

  "So you're saying we can't rely on that strength of yours?" Hanna asks.

  "I don't know. If push comes to shove I think I can get it to work, but I don't think we should plan for me to have that strength for every fight."

  "Well, that bite. Alright, give me your other leg."

  Repositioning the girls switch places and set to work on adding the last touches to my makeshift armor. As Hanna starts layering the pages on my leg I have to resist the urge to squirm. She's surprisingly gentle and it almost tickles.

  "Can I ask what you think triggers the strength?" Abby asks.

  "Well…" How do I answer this without sounding like someone without anger issues? That would require me to lie to her, wouldn't it? With everything else I've done today, I really can't stomach the idea of lying to my friend. "… honestly I think it's anger. When I saw that second zombie jump on you I got so angry I saw red."

  Well, I said it. My anger issues are now out in the open. Now it's time for them to recoil in fear or digust. They'll start viewing me like some rabbid animal that can't control itself.

  "So…you got that angry over me?" Abby's face reddens as she mutters her question.

  "Well, yeah. They were trying to eat you."

  That's not the reaction I was expecting. Abby bows her head further preventing me from making out her expression but her body language doesn't scream revulsion or anything like it. I'd almost think it's an embarrassment, which would make sense. Who would want to be used as the excuse for someone else lashing out with violence in their anger?

  The two girls finish their work quickly leaving my forearms and shins protected with the textbook pages. After they finish with my legs I retrieve my shirt and slide it back on. With the arm bracers, the fit is tighter then I was expecting in the arms but not enough to be restrictive.

  "Thank you." I say to the two girls.

  "You're welcome." Abby mutters.

  "If you wanna thank me, figure out a way to get angry on command. We could really use that strength if we are going to get out of here." Hanna says.

  Getting angry isn't the problem. It's keeping control over myself and my actions. Should I try to explain that to them? No, that would be needless. If it does come down to that strength being the only thing able to save us I know I'll be able to use it, if it is caused by my anger.

  "Will do." I answer her.

  I make my way back to Sebastian and Michael who have started attaching the straps to the shields. Taking a desk and a couple of straps I join their efforts in completing the shields.

  "Derrick. Your turn." Hanna calls out.

  "Sure, whatever." Derrick stands from where he and Sandra are and makes his way to the two girls.

  His quickness to agree without a snide remark confuses me for a moment. I'm surprised he is willing to go along with being armored up since we're doing it to get out of this room. Well, whatever, it's none of my concern. As long as he isn't being an ass I don't really care.

  The rest of the crafting goes by smoothly. With the three straps, we can keep the shields on while also being able to use our hands. However, if we aren't holding the handle it's easy for the shield to rotate around our arms, which might be a problem. However, having them is better than having nothing at all.

  "Hey Michael, you play video games right?" Sebastian asks.

  "Umm, yeah?"

  "Got any advice on what attributes I should invest in?"

  "Oh. Well that all depends on your build."

  "My build?"

  "Yeah, in video games you increase your attributes based off what kind of playstyle you wanna do. Some games have skills or spells locked until certain attributes are high enough. Or the attributes increase the effectiveness of the skills and spells."

  "I see. So how do you think this System works?"

  "Don't know. If I had to guess I would think that the attributes affect our Skills. I've invested primarily into my Wisdom and Intelligence and I didn't notice a difference in the power of Stone Shot, but it does feel to take less time to charge."

  "Hmm. So what attributes would you recommend that I focus on?" Sebastian asks.

  "What is your Skill again?"

  "Shadow Step is what the System calls it. According to the description it apparently lets me harness the power of shadows to step behind light, concealing myself."

  "Dude that's dope as hell. It sounds like a classic rouge Skill, like a rebranded stealth. What about the Tutorial Item you got?"

  "Its ability is to get super sharp."

  "Wicked." Michael exclaims excitedly. "Dude, if I were you I'd try for a stealth assassin build. You know focus on being fast enough to end a fight before it starts."

  "So would I focus on Agility and Dexterity?" Sebastian asks.

  "That's what I would do."

  Sebatian falls into a contemplative silence. He finishes a shield and sets it off to the side in a pile of completed shield. He looks around for a moment to find the next one but Michael and I are working on the last two. Finding no further work his eyes focus on something in the air.

  "What about me? What attributes should I focus on?" I ask.

  "What's your skill?"

  Sighing I quickly explain that the system never gave me a Skill like the others. He listens quietly, nestling his chin in his free hands after finishing his last shield.

  "Isn't it obvious then?" He asks. "Focus on strength and Intelligence or Wisdom. If I'm right about our attributes affecting our skills, then increasing your Strength should only lead to your Skill making you stronger. The mental attributes are so you have enough Aether to power the Skill."

  "Yeah, that makes sense. Thank you." I say while tying the last knot on the final shield.

  It makes sense when he puts it that way, but this isn't a video game. Is min maxing really the best thing to do here? Which is better, being a master of one or a jack of all?

  Honestly, I'm hesitant to use this System. Not knowing what it's actually doing to me drives me crazy, but what else am I to do? There's a school full of zombies and something called a Grave Walker that we have to get through if we have any hopes of leaving.

  "Hey, fuck nuggets!" Derrick calls out across the room. "We need to get going."

  Wait, seriously? Now he wants to leave?

  "Weren't you the one wanting us to stay put?" Sebastian asks.

  "Listen up you greasy twats." Derrick commands in what I recognize as his football captain's voice. "We need to get Sandy to the Nurse's Office. So stop questioning me and get your lazy asses in gear."

  Lazy asses? Who the fuck was sitting there doing nothing to help the group? I know it wasn't Sebastian, Michael, Hanna, or Abby.

  Heat rises in my chest as my annoyance builds. I force myself to take long deep breaths as I force the heat into the pit of my stomach. Even if he's an insufferable ass, I can't let myself get angry.

  "What about the Grave Walker quest?" Michael asks.

  "Is someone cruising for a bruising? Did I not just say to stop questioning me four eyes? The adults will handle whatever the fuck the System is trying to make us do. Right now Sandy needs our help."

  "Derrick stop being an ass. But, has a point guys. We have a couple of days to deal with the Quest. Right now Sandy is getting worse and Abby believes that there should be some medicine or even a nurse in the Nurse's Office." Hanna walks to stand between Derrick and the three of us boys.

  Her arms and shins are plated in the ducktape and paper armor that we all now sport. With her spear in hand, she looks almost badass like some of one of them cosplayers.

  "Fair enough, but what's the game plan? I mean how do we plan to get to the Nurse's Office?" Sebastian asks.

  "Have none of you nerds played football? We treat Sandy like the ball, I'll be quarterback while y'all run defense. We'll do a loose Wishbone formation since we don't have enough team members to do it properly." Derrick makes his way to the whiteboard and starts drawing on it. "Jason will take the lead blocker position, while Hanna and Sebastian will flank the Orphan."

  He draws three squares side by side with the first letter of our names in them. He places Hanna to my left while Sebastian is set to my right. He then draws a triangle behind me and two squares on each side of the triangle. The square to the triangle's left has an M placed in it while the one to the left has an A.

  "I'll act as the quarterback carrying the football while four eyes and the emo flank me. If I had my boys with me then we could do the formation properly but we'd need three more people. The main idea is that the front line blocks and defends while the flanks fill in as needed."

  "You can drop the insulting nicknames Derrick, we're going to help you either way." Hanna says as she retrieves a shield from the pile we made. "Alright guys make your final preparations, we're going to be pushing for the Nurse's Office as quickly as we can."

  "What if we come across other survivors?" Abby asks.

  "Sandy's health is our priority right now. If they've survived this long they can survive a little longer while we make our way to the Nurse's Office. We can swing back around after Sandy gets the help she needs." Hanna answers.

  "Give me a second to allocate my Attributes." Sebastian requests as his eyes focus on the air before him.

  "That's smart, everyone make whatever Attribute increases you can." Hanna directs.

  Feeling uneasy about it I pull my Status screen up. It's a necessary evil at the moment to make sure that we get out of this alive. To min-max or not to min-max, that is the question. I suppress a snicker at my lame joke as I focus on my strength.

  [Strength: 2 -> 3]

  [Costs: 15 Aetherium]

  [Strength: 3 -> 4]

  [Costs: 45 Aetherium]

  I confirm my choices in rapid succession, wanting to make the pain as brief as possible. In a flash, my body is engulfed in searing pain as I feel my muscles are lit on fire. It's like my entire body is experiencing a cramp.

  The pain subsides a few moments later leaving me slightly winded. If only I had also tried to increase my Intelligence at the same time. Gritting my teeth I set to allocating the rest of my Aetherium points.

  [Intelligence: 2 -> 3]

  [Costs: 15 Aetherium]

  It takes me a moment to recover from the pain exploding in my head but as I do the others appear to have readied themselves.

  "Are you okay?" Abby asks me.

  "Yeah, sorry." I answer, retrieving the last desk shield, as Sebastian has taken the plastic prop one. "Let's go."