The fire crackled low in the pit, painting the cave walls in restless orange light. Smoke curled lazily toward the narrow exit where night pressed in, a thin blue line of moonlight slanting across the ground.

  Barrett sat cross-legged by the fire, turning a strip of bear meat on a skewer. The scent was sharp and gamey, filling the small cavern with that greasy, half-burnt smell of protein that had seen better days. Beside him, Grimm was pecking delicately at his meal, a wriggling pile of pre-chewed worms Barrett had spat onto a flattened tin lid.

  “Don’t say I never cook for you,” Barrett muttered.

  Chirp.

  He smirked. “Ungrateful little buzzard.”

  Behind him, a low groan echoed from the corner.

  Maku stirred on the bedroll Barrett had thrown together from torn goblin leather and shredded vines. He blinked slowly, sitting up with a wince, the flickering light carving shadows across his sharp-angled face. His black hair was a mess. The puffer jacket was torn at the shoulder, stained with dried blood.

  Barrett nodded toward the fire. “Bout time you woke up, Sleeping Beauty.”

  He handed over a strip of roasted meat. “Eat.”

  Maku took it, chewed once, and grimaced. “Disgusting.”

  Barrett shrugged, still turning his skewer. “Aged bear steak. They’d charge a hundred bucks for this at a restaurant.”

  That earned a snort. “My mom used to make the same comment about her food.”

  Barrett’s hand froze on the skewer for half a heartbeat before he grunted. “Smart woman.”

  Silence hung for a moment, with only the sound of the crackling fire and Grimm’s content chirps filling the space.

  Maku’s eyes drifted around the cave, taking in the makeshift fortifications outside the mouth. The columns of sharpened logs, the stacked rocks behind them, the rope ladder hanging near the back.

  “You know,” he said between bites, “this is a pretty badass setup. Nothing says cozy like fortifications.”

  Barrett grinned beneath his shades. “You’re damn right. Nothing a man craves more than walls between him and the rest of the world.”

  Maku smirked. “You’ve got issues.”

  “Yup.”

  A pause, then Maku tilted his head. “Who the hell are you anyway?”

  Barrett looked up, surprised. “Excuse me?”

  Maku raised his hands slightly. “Relax. You don’t have to answer. I get it. We’re both playing the mysterious tough guy part.”

  Barrett flipped the skewer, voice steady. “Barrett Donovan. Ex–special forces. I was at a prepper convention when this whole freakshow started.” He nodded toward Maku. “Your turn.”

  “Maku Zhao. Top of my class at Harvard Med. I was applying for the astronaut program when things went sideways.”

  Barrett blinked. Slowly, he set his food down.

  Then he scowled. “Screw you, man.”

  “Screw you.”

  “Astronaut program, my ass.”

  “Yeah, whatever, Mister special forces.”

  Barrett snorted. “Please. You were enrolled in the ‘mother’s basement’ program.”

  Maku shot back instantly. “And you were that random, ‘needlessly jacked guy’ working at a mall game shop.”

  Barrett froze, going unusually quiet.

  Maku’s expression softened. “I didn’t mean—”

  Barrett lifted a hand, stopping him.

  “You think I’m jacked?”

  For a heartbeat, there was silence.

  Then they both laughed, the kind that cracked through exhaustion until it hurt. For the first time in days, the cave didn’t feel quite so heavy.

  When it died down, Maku leaned back against the stone wall. “Where’s your little field trip class?”

  Barrett’s grin faded. He stared into the fire. “Not here. But once I’m stronger, I’ll get ’em back.”

  Maku nodded once, serious. “Want my help? Let’s wipe out their camp. Might earn us a couple of levels.”

  Barrett squinted at him. “Wow. That’s dark, kid.”

  “Bah, you’re just too soft to do what it takes.”

  “Did you just call me soft?” Barrett stood up, glaring.

  “Why don’t you go trade your cigars for a pacifier, you big soft baby?”

  “How about I take you outside these walls and beat the brakes off you?”

  Maku stood, stepping closer, eyes glinting. “Try it, teddy bear. I’ll make you nothing but a memory.”

  Barrett’s grin split wide. “Okay, that was pretty badass.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Right?” Maku laughed.

  They stood there, two idiots squared up and bleeding from half-healed wounds, before collapsing back down beside the fire, still chuckling.

  “Let’s eat and rest first,” Barrett said.

  “Agreed.” Maku tore another bite of bear steak.

  “But afterward, I’m beating the brakes off you,” Barrett muttered.

  “You can try.”

  Chirp.

  Maku’s gaze shifted to the corner, where Grimm was cleaning his beak. “That bird’s not normal, is he?”

  Barrett smiled faintly. “His name’s Grimm. Think he’s…bonded to me somehow. Helped me dodge a hit back there. Don’t ask me how.”

  Maku gave the bird a mock salute. “Respect, Grimm.”

  Chirp.

  Barrett threw a stick into the fire. Sparks rose like fireflies into the dark.

  Maku’s eyes landed on the massive cleaver propped near the wall. The Goblin Captain’s blade, its edge still faintly black with dried blood.

  “You pull that off the Captain?”

  “Yeah.” Barrett poked the fire. “Ugly as sin. You want it?”

  Maku turned the weapon over, inspecting it. “Might melt it down for potion components. You craft at all?”

  Barrett barked a laugh. “Hell no. That’s for nerds. If I’m not out fighting, I’d rather use my free time to meet some babes.”

  “Figured.”

  The suns had long dipped below the treeline now. The fire threw long shadows up the walls. Outside, the forest sang, insects buzzed, and distant howls echoed under the twin moons.

  Maku stretched, yawning. “Damn, it’s getting dark.”

  Barrett nodded. “You can crash here if you want.”

  Maku chuckled nervously. “Appreciate it.”

  “You got it.” Barrett leaned back, cracking his neck. “Just wish we had an Xbox and some snacks. Sleepover LAN party.”

  That earned a genuine laugh from Maku. “Those were the best. Never took you for a gamer.”

  Barrett chuckled. “True, I was too busy taking out terrorists.”

  “Yeah,” Maku said, smirking. “Same. Med school was basically the same thing.”

  Barrett snorted. “You’re an idiot.”

  “Doofus.”

  They both got up and prepared themselves places to sleep flanking the fire. Barrett and Grimm, on one side, and Maku, on the other, using some of his clothes and spare material Barrett gave him from the goblins to make a makeshift bedroll.

  Once they were situated comfortably, they laid down for bed.

  It was Barrett who interrupted first.

  “What kind of girls do you like?” he asked.

  Maku sat for a moment, silent in thought. “Extremely cute ones, that worship me.”

  “You’ve got issues,” Barrett replied.

  Maku grunted, “How about you?”

  Barrett replied. “Powerful ones that lift. The ones with strong quads and the slightly too wide shoulders where you know they lift.”

  “You’re a degenerate.”

  “Proud of it.”

  Maku chuckled. “I saw you hitting on that pantsuit girl. She wasn’t really like that.”

  Barrett grunted, “Well…let me put it in terms of ice cream. I’ve got favorite flavors, but I’ll eat whatever’s in the freezer.”

  Maku laughed. “Yeah, can’t relate. I’ve always had abundance. When you’ve got an abundance of something, you get to be picky.”

  Barrett chuckled. “You’re an idiot.”

  A comfortable quiet returned, broken only by the hiss of the fire.

  After a minute, Barrett said, “What do you think of that girl, Tanya, from our group?”

  Maku’s voice perked. “The one with the granite quads?”

  Barrett looked over, eyes wide. “Damn, you’re alright, kid.”

  “Stop calling me kid, doofus.”

  “Sure thing, champ.”

  “Whatever. I’m going to sleep.”

  The fire burned lower. The cave grew quieter. For a moment, there was peace. Just two men, one bird, and a world that hadn’t killed them yet.

  Outside, the night wind whispered through the wooden stakes of Barrett’s fortress, carrying the scent of rain and blood and something new on the horizon.

  A long silence passed.

  “Yo Maku, you awake?”

  “What?”

  Barrett stared into the dying embers. “Wanna join Team Donovan?”

  Maku didn’t answer right away. The fire popped once, soft as a heartbeat.

  Then, half-muffled: “Hell no.”

  Barrett smiled into the dark. “Yeah, I respect that.”

  —Lance—

  Lance slipped into the tent one careful step at a time.

  Barrett’s tent was enormous—ridiculously so. Bigger inside than some apartments he’d lived in. A fabric divider split the interior, hiding the back half from view. He still couldn’t believe Barrett had packed something this huge. Then again…Barrett packed a queen mattress too, so maybe he should have believed it.

  The more Lance thought about the big man, the more his chest tightened. He missed him.

  Lance had basically been raised by the internet. His mom worked double shifts, and as an only child, most of his lessons in life came from group chats, memes, and whatever game he happened to be grinding that month. Right and wrong didn’t mean much to him growing up; “right” was just whatever led to a victory screen.

  But Barrett…Barrett was different.

  He wasn’t just another adult stumbling around, moving from problem to problem. He had direction. He had conviction. He had a vision. And even if Barrett didn’t realize it, he cared in a way Lance had never seen before.

  That alone was enough.

  And in Lance’s heart, his loyalty had already been carved in stone.

  Outside, muffled voices drifted through the canvas. Fred and Rei were arguing about something again. Their tones rose and fell like distant thunder.

  Lance edged around the queen mattress, trying not to think about why Barrett owned one or why he’d packed it in his backpack. He finally spotted the pack lying in the corner.

  There it was.

  He crouched beside it. His stealth ability remained dormant—he needed to save every second of it for the escape. Hands shaking, he eased the bag open and pulled out the Calvin and Hobbes Essentials.

  The voices outside stopped.

  Lance froze, breath held.

  Nothing happened. No footsteps. No shouting.

  He exhaled and flipped open the book.

  Maps. Notes. Coordinates. Scribbles. An entire network of markings he didn’t understand. Mostly because of Coach’s terrible handwriting. One page in particular chilled him. Barrett had written about a “gem” located exactly where they had found it in the cave.

  Lance’s thoughts spun like a carousel losing control.

  How did he know?

  How much did he know?

  Who…was Coach Donovan, really?

  He became so absorbed that he didn’t hear the footsteps until—

  “Put that down.”

  The words sliced through his thoughts like a knife.

  Lance whirled.

  Rei stood at the entrance, framed by soft morning light. Average height, average build—yet sharper than a blade. Intelligent eyes, and tonight, full of malice.

  “I—I was just—” he stammered.

  She didn’t blink. “Surprised? He knew the whole time.”

  Lance swallowed and nodded weakly.

  “You’re wondering why he didn’t tell you,” she continued, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Even though you were part of his team?”

  “I’m sure Coach had his reasons,” Lance said, though it came out more like a squeak. His head was still whirling from the thoughts.

  “Doesn’t matter now.” Her hands ignited, orange flames twirling between her fingers. “Not for you.”

  Before she could step closer, the tent flap rustled, and Fred barged in. He stopped dead when he saw Lance.

  “What are you doing in here?” He turned to Rei. “What’s going on?”

  Rei didn’t take her eyes off Lance. “Just teaching the boy a lesson.”

  “Rei, come on, he’s a kid,” Fred said, stepping closer.

  She ignored him. Her flames grew hotter, humming in her palms. There was something terrifying in her expression—not hatred…

  …but delight.

  A love for cruelty.

  Lance felt sweat slide down his spine. He thought of Coach—how he’d stand tall, grip the machete, say something badass, probably while smoking a giant cigar.

  Lance had none of those things. But he could try.

  He took a shaky breath.

  “This…is my time,” he declared.

  It came out small. Embarrassing.

  Fred closed his eyes, sighed, and walked over.

  “Kid…”

  His hand blurred.

  SMACK!

  The world went dark.