Even speeding, there’s no way I could get to the Tower. To make matters worse, I had to stop for gas. What took me two hours before takes an hour and some change. Yay for speeding, but the hour is spent in existential dread.

When I pull up to the road to the Tower, the path leading to the distant mecca of systematic growth, helpfully provided by our Devil God overlord, is blocked. Sammy told me discussion of this being a possibility was taking place, but I didn’t think today would be a day I’d have to decide whether or not to forsake my previous allegiances.

“Shit,” I growl, coming to a stop in front of an entire police task force.

Their cars leave no room to pass by with my bike, and the walk down to the Tower is likely one I don’t want to make if I’m to be in any condition to enter the Tower.

I scoot my bike closer to them and shout, “Get out of the way.”

“That’s far enough,” some girl with a megaphone says. “Don’t come any closer, or we’ll take your action as hostility.”

“I don’t have time for this shit!” I growl, roaring my engine to life. “Listen, you’re going to get hurt!”

A man twice the size of the girl snatches the megaphone and growls, “Is that a threat, son?”

“What if it is?” I call back.

“We’d have every right to detain you for obstruction of justice.”

“You’re an idiot if you think you can try me,” I mutter, not loud enough they can hear though. Taking a deep breath, I try again. “You’re in the way!”

“That’s the point, son.” The girl grabs the man’s attention, and they talk for a moment. She points towards me. He nods and raises the megaphone. “Wyatt Aaron Allen, go home, go back to school like a good member of society, and forget these demonic ways!”

I shake my head. “I hate to break it to you, old man, but these ‘demonic ways’ aren’t something you can ignore. None of us can! If you’re telling people to avoid the Towers, stop! And don’t try to stop people from going to them!”

“We will not give in to the ways of demons, son, and nor should you. Lest God forsakes your soul. You can still repent, if you just go back to—”

The girl who spoke first snatches the megaphone away. “Wyatt, these Towers are dangerous. We’re trying to stop people from getting hurt in there. Please try to understand.”

“I understand just fine, but do you think Yugmuswa gives two flying shits about the safety of people?”

I really don’t have time for this shit.

And would you look at that? Someone called in a news copter and thinks I’m worthy of a spotlight.

If that’s how it’s gonna be, I guess I might as well be loud about my opinion so shit like this doesn’t happen again. For my own sake, as well as all the other Numbered, I turn toward the copter’s cameraman and look into the spotlight.

“If you’re hesitant to go into the Towers, don’t be. I promise the outcome of not going is worse than anything that could happen if you don’t!” I hold out my hands wide. “The whole world has changed, and if you’re still in denial, you’re part of the problem!”

“Wyatt, please stop!” the girl on the megaphone calls.

“Men,” the old man barks, “raise your arms and train your sights on that heretic!”

I ignore them and continue addressing the camera. “The Devil God doesn’t care about what we want. He only cares about what he wants. And what he wants is to be fed. If you’re Numbered and not in a Tower, you’re the problem!” I pause, turning to throw and anxious look towards the barricade full of weapons trained on me.

“If he says another thing, you have permission to fire!”

Preemptively, I equip my armor and cast [Harden] across myself. Once that’s taken care of, I take a deep breath and continue, “You’re going to die, and it’ll be all your fault!”

“Fire at will!” the hulking man shouts. 

There’s a pregnant pause as everyone waits for something to happen, but nobody fires a single shot. The silence permeates the air, hanging heavily, deafening.

Mr. Tight Ass doesn’t like this and snatches a rifle away from one of the men closest to him. “Die heretic!” He raises the gun, trains his sights on me, and then pulls the trigger, screaming, “May your soul rot in Hell!”

Pop.

Time seems to slow, and I recognize the effect as [Battle Trance] reflexively activating once the bullet is fired. The muzzle flash is bright. Smoke wisps in the air. And the bullet speeds towards me.

My confidence is thin as paper. Everything in me screams for me to take the time to get out of the way, but I don’t.

Tink.

I look down at my chest. Gotta hand it to the man, his accuracy is astonishing. Perfect aim, targeting my racing heart. With gauntleted fingers, I take the bullet and hold it up.

“See this?!” I shout, showing both the task force and camera. “This world is no longer ours! Bullets don’t mean shit to Numbered. Devil God Yugmuswa is here! There is no arguing that. His servants walk among us, his Towers offering hope in a world steeped in corruption.”

“Shut your damned mouth!” Pop, pop, pop. Tink, tink, tink. “Who do you think you are, heretic?!”

“Restrain the captain!” the girl shouts over the captain’s tirade.

When she gives the order, he turns the gun on her. “You’re one of them too, aren’t you? A sympathizer is no better than a heretic. Begone!”

From where I am, I see his finger start to squeeze the trigger and cast [Suppression]. My shadow happily explodes across the distance to slip into the man’s shadow and visibly wrap around the man, a new visual effect, likely for dramatic purposes?

I like it.

They dogpile on the captain, restraining him. The girl cop who gave the order looks as if she’s recounting the entirety of her life, disbelief writ on her face clear as day.

Turning back to the camera, I continue addressing whatever audience might be viewing this. “I’ve spent everyday in the Tower working hard, and I can tell you this. If you’ve ever had a dream, it can become reality.”

“What’s it like in there?” someone shouts down from the copter, maybe the cameraman?

“Dangerous at times, but there is hope. There are options to overcome weakness, options for everyone to find their way to power, wealth, and security. There is opportunity.” I take a deep breath and think about the people I’ve met, Marissa’s mother in particular.

“What do you think of the Devil God?”

“From looking at everything he’s done, I think he’s fair,” I answer honestly.

“Do you believe God has abandoned us to this Devil God?”

Scowling, I ignore the question and continue, “Who cares? What’s more important is here and now, what we can see and do something about. I promise all who are afraid that there is a way to overcome that fear. The world is changing, and we have to change with it. We can all benefit from this.”

“What about the power that it gives to people? Don’t you think it might destabilize the world?”

“Why should I care about that? Our world is steeped in filth, so I can’t be bothered to give a shit about maintaining the status quo. Don’t cry to me about the unfairness of this new world under the Devil God’s system, because he doesn’t at least try to act like something he isn’t.” I wave towards the camera. “That’s all. I seriously need to go.”

Turning, I see that the blockade is still up, but at least Mr. Tight Ass has been apprehended and tossed into the back of one of the cars. Scooting forward on my bike, I gesture for the female with the megaphone to come closer.

She takes a moment to decide. Then she steps away from the safety of her people and approaches. “We still can’t let you by, Wyatt.”

“Come closer,” I say. She does, and I can finally make out her tag. “D. Dukes, is it? So, Officer Dukes, I’ll tell you before you find out the hard way. You’re in the way and going to get hurt. The Devil God’s servants have taken over all transportation routes around town. I’m not sure how long you’ve been here,” I explain, looking at my watch, “but you’ve got about two minutes before a bus driven by a hunchback devil comes barreling through your blockade, whether you like it or not.”

“We’ve heard about these buses. They’ve been a cause for concern, but we thought maybe we’d be able to get them to stop.” She looks down the road and chews the inside of her lip. “But after hearing what you have to say, it doesn’t seem advisable to remain here.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” I say, nodding. The longer I stay near the road, the more nervous I feel. Any moment now, the bus would come barreling this way. “You don’t have much time.”

She looks down the road with me, then towards the blockade. “Maybe a spike strip?”

I hold up the bullet in my hand. “Remember this? I guarantee you there are stronger, scarier things than me lurking around this town now.” With a gauntleted hand, I point down the road. “That hunchback driver makes me look like a gnat. It will protect the bus and kill all of you if you try to get in its way.”

“That serious, huh?”

“That serious.” I look at my watch. “And you’ve got about thirty seconds to make a choice before it’s made for you.”

She bites her lip, opens her mouth to retort, then clamps it shut. “Shit.” She grabs a whistle dangling around her neck and blows it. “Get out of the way, and be quick about it!”

“Thanks for listening to me.” She seems like a good girl, though the memory of her sounding like my mom and calling me by my full name will be one I wish to bleach from my mind. “I only found out about all of this,” I say, gesturing towards the road block, “this morning. Thought I had a few more days to try and figure out a way to convince the local authorities not to do something so stupid.”

“Hmm,” she grunts, watching as several of the cars in front of the many rows pull out of the way.

But then I hear it, the unmistakable sound of a bus speeding down the road from afar. Sure enough, I see one of the Doom Buses barreling down the road towards the blockade. The hollow eyes of the hunchback meet mine, and I swear the damned thing decides to speed up even faster.

I look towards the blockade, and it’s immediately apparent they’re not moving fast enough. I turn to Officer Dukes. “They’re not moving fast enough. Get your people out of the way, and do it now. Leave the cars.”

For a moment, it seems she might argue with me. To my surprise, she gives the order for those still in the way to leave everything and move. Where there were at least twenty cars arrayed before, only five make it out of the way.

I hop off my bike and wrap Officer Dukes in my arms to shield her with my body, casting [Harden] again. Interesting enough, the effect includes her and forms a small skin tight bubble around us.

Then what I’ve been afraid of happens, and the sound of an angry bus ripping through thousands of pounds of metal and scattering it like rain grates my eardrums.

Pained wails fill the air as many of the officers find out what metal moving at high speeds can do to someone. Hint: it’s not pretty. Metal rain is one of the varieties of rain I’ll pass on in the future. I much prefer cats and dogs or spaghetti and meatballs.

Once the sound of metal falling stops, I let her go, looking at the massive amount of shrapnel surrounding us in a small semicircle. If I had to guess, at least half is around our feet, making me think the driver specifically targeted us.

How? I have no clue.

“Asshole,” I grumble, seeing how my bike didn’t avoid being torn apart.

Everything is busted up and barely held together. Seeing it, I can only imagine the state all the officers are in. A quick look reinforces my guess that, yes, high speed metal works wonders against flesh.

“I hope you have an emergency crew on standby,” I say over the wails of pain.

She grimaces. “No, we didn’t think we’d need one.” For a moment, she pauses, looking at me for a fleeting moment. She pulls out a card and hands it to me. I take it, and then she’s gone, calling over her shoulder, “Don’t be a stranger, Wyatt.”

“Shit,” I mutter, looking at the plethora of injured officers. While I really do need to get a move on and figure out what’s going on with Jimmy, I can’t just ignore this. Or the copter above, presumably still filming everything. “Round everyone up, quick!”

Officer Dukes’ coffee brown eyes meet mine. “Don’t let us keep you if you have somewhere to be. W-we’ll take care of everything, for better or worse.”

I wave away her concern and unequip my armor. Wouldn’t want to hurt someone by accident. Then I get to work, helping the officers capable of moving without too much pain gather those who can’t.

It takes longer than I care to think about, but I can’t ignore these people. They had good intentions, even if uninformed.

When they’re all corralled, laying in various states of disarray, I do something I haven’t tried yet. [Overcharge] first, then I chant, “Bid unto thee recovery, make thy wounds heal true. Embrace this breath, so tenderly, knit thy flesh anew. [Greater Restoration]!"

Overcharge has temporarily augmented Greater Restoration.

Greater Restoration has increased from B-Grade to A-Grade.

Greater Restoration has temporarily become Dome of Restoration.

Sure enough, an emerald dome appears, using me as the center. The amount of arcana flowing out of me is tremendous, and sweat slickens my entire being. The exertion of maintaining the spell leaves me breathless and shaky.

But it’s worth it.

Through slitted eyes, I can see the injuries all around me knitting together. Even those with severed limbs have the flesh between the lost appendage come together, brand new and in one piece.

By the time the spell runs its course, I’m a wreck and slump to the ground onto my hands and knees, gagging. A headache like no other slams into my head and nearly knocks me unconscious, but I resist with all my willpower.

“Wyatt?” Officer Dukes calls, crouching beside me and resting a hand against my back. “What’s happening? Are you okay?”

I have no energy to do anything than weakly wave away her concerns and reach my hand into my pocket, pulling my EID out so I can look over my status. What I see is just what I expect.

Stamina: 0/129 | Arcana: 0/157 | Primessence: 7/19

Even after pouring my attributes I got from leveling into endurance on the way over, casting an [Overcharged Greater Restoration] is something that drains me far too much. Seeing my primessence, I remember how it restored my capacities before.

“Regenerate… stamina and… arcana,” I gasp, barely blinking through the ever approaching darkness tinging my vision and creeping closer.

Two primessence consumed. Depleted stamina and arcana have been refilled.

The intensity of energy flowing into me causes me even more pain as my mind struggles to come to terms with the speed of energy flooding through my body. The pit in my stomach swells and caps out before the one in my chest, and then that too fills.

I feel a bit of residual energy left over, as if the two points of primessence are more than enough to fill my stamina and arcana. I instinctively throw them at my stamina pool and clench my fists tight, pushing myself to my feet.

“You shouldn’t be moving!” Officer Dukes says, trying to coerce me into resting a bit more.

“I’ve spent too much time here,” I say, turning with a brief wave over my shoulder. “Take care of my bike, and I might think about calling you.”

I slip her card into my back pocket with my EID and then start burning through my stamina with [Dash]. The path to the Tower is a long one, and making my way to it gives me too much time to think of all the terrible things that might have happened to Jimmy.