We left the safe room behind.

  The hare stayed pressed against the wall inside, still trembling but marginally less panicked now that it had a guaranteed sanctuary. The imp settled back onto my shoulder as we stepped out into the red wasteland.

  "So," I said after we'd walked about thirty feet, "I need to talk about something."

  "What?" the imp asked.

  "Back in the upstairs," I said, "the system told me I have 'reduced initiative in voluntary aggression.' Sounds cool and professional when you phrase it like that. Very clinical."

  The imp tilted its head. "And?"

  "And what it actually means," I continued, "is that I talked a big game about getting stronger and hunting things down, but I genuinely have no idea how to voluntarily attack something. Like, conceptually. My brain doesn't do that. It does running away and hiding and waiting until things go away. Not... aggression."

  The imp stared at me.

  "You're telling me," it said slowly, "that you spent forty-three years surviving on a dead planet full of monsters, and you never once started a fight?"

  "Correct."

  "You only fought when cornered."

  "Yes."

  The imp made a noise that sounded like a sigh filtered through a broken accordion. "This is going to be a disaster."

  "Probably," I agreed.

  We kept walking. The path curved gently, leading us back the way we'd come. In the distance, I could see the faint outline of the Enlightened Vagrant still sitting exactly where we'd left it, staff across its lap, perfectly still.

  As we got closer, I raised one bony hand in a casual wave.

  The skeleton didn't move.

  I kept walking.

  We passed within ten feet of it. I gave a little nod. Still nothing.

  Then, just as we moved past, the vagrant's skull tilted slightly in our direction.

  "Safe travels," it said quietly.

  "Thanks," I said.

  We kept walking.

  After another minute, the imp said, "You just casually waved at the thing that broke your rib."

  "It let us pass," I said. "Seemed polite to acknowledge that."

  "You're so weird."

  "I prefer 'socially considerate in inappropriate contexts.'"

  We retraced our steps, following the red dirt path back toward the area we'd first explored. The landscape remained unchanging: barren, dusty, punctuated by the occasional stone marker or pile of unidentifiable debris.

  "So what exactly are we looking for?" the imp asked.

  "Anything level-appropriate," I said. "Preferably something I can fight without dying immediately."

  "That's a narrow range."

  "I'm aware."

  We walked for another ten minutes. The wasteland stretched endlessly in every direction, and I was starting to think we'd have to wander for hours before finding...

  The imp stiffened. "Stop."

  I stopped.

  "What?"

  "Listen."

  I listened. At first, I heard nothing. Just the faint whistle of wind across stone. Then I caught it: a faint scratching sound. Rhythmic. Multiple sources. Coming from somewhere ahead and to the left.

  "What is that?" I asked quietly.

  "Something small," the imp said. "Multiple somethings. Moving fast."

  I looked in the direction of the sound. There was a shallow depression in the ground about fifty feet away, like a dried-up streambed. The scratching was coming from inside it.

  I approached slowly, keeping low. The pink sash fluttered slightly in a breeze that shouldn't exist. I reached the edge of the depression and looked down.

  Rats.

  Sort of.

  They were the size of small dogs, but that's where the resemblance to normal rats ended. Their skin was gone: just burned, blackened muscle stretched over bone. Their skulls were exposed, eye sockets empty but somehow still looking. Ember-like light flickered between their ribs, pulsing with each movement.

  There were five of them, scuttling around the depression in erratic patterns. Occasionally one would leap at another, snapping with charred teeth, before skittering away.

  Tags appeared above each one.

  ASH GNAWER LEVEL 2 STATUS: HUNGRY

  ASH GNAWER LEVEL 3 STATUS: AGITATED

  ASH GNAWER LEVEL 2 STATUS: HUNGRY

  ASH GNAWER LEVEL 2 STATUS: SEARCHING

  ASH GNAWER LEVEL 3 STATUS: AGITATED

  "Five of them," I whispered. "I need to separate one, get it away from the group."

  "And how exactly are you planning to do that?"

  I looked around. The depression was about twenty feet wide, with gentle slopes on all sides. To the right, there was a cluster of broken stone pillars: the remains of something that might have been a structure once. To the left, open ground.

  "If I can get one to chase me," I said slowly, "I can lead it toward those pillars. Use them as cover. The others might not follow if I'm fast enough."

  "Might is doing a lot of work in that sentence," the imp said.

  "You have a better idea?"

  The imp was silent.

  "Thought so."

  I picked up a small rock from the edge of the depression. It fit easily in my palm: smooth, about the size of a golf ball. I tested its weight. Not great, but it would have to do.

  I took a breath I didn't need and hurled the rock into the center of the depression.

  It landed with a sharp crack against stone.

  All five Ash Gnawers froze.

  Then they turned toward the sound in perfect unison, heads tilting at identical angles.

  "Oh no," the imp whispered.

  One of them (level 2, thankfully) chittered and launched itself up the slope toward me.

  I ran.

  Behind me, I heard the rest of them screech and scramble after the first one. My ribs rattled as I sprinted across the open ground, heading for the pillars. The pink sash flapped behind me like a flag of poor decisions.

  "THEY'RE ALL FOLLOWING YOU," the imp yelled.

  "I NOTICED."

  I reached the pillars and ducked behind the largest one. The Ash Gnawers weren't far behind: I could hear their claws scraping against stone, the wet sound of their charred muscles contracting as they moved.

  I pressed myself against the pillar and looked around frantically. There had to be something I could use. The pillars were scattered across about thirty feet, creating a rough maze of stone and shadow.

  The first Gnawer rounded the pillar.

  I threw myself sideways, rolling across the dirt. It leapt at where I'd been, claws gouging the stone. I scrambled to my feet and ran deeper into the pillar maze.

  Two more appeared ahead of me, cutting off that direction. I pivoted, ducked under a low archway between two fallen pillars, and came out on the other side.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  The Gnawers were fast. Too fast. They moved in bursts: sprinting, leaping, zigzagging like their movement patterns were designed by someone having a seizure. And they were starting to surround me.

  "Daniel!" the imp shouted. "Do something!"

  One of the level 2 Gnawers lunged from my left. I dove right, and it sailed past me, crashing into another Gnawer that had been approaching from behind. They tumbled together in a snarling heap of burned flesh and clicking teeth.

  That gave me an idea.

  I ran toward the edge of the pillar cluster, deliberately slowing down just enough to let them think they could catch me. Three of them were on my heels now, the other two still untangling themselves.

  I reached the edge and spun around, pressing my back against the last pillar.

  The three Gnawers skidded to a halt about ten feet away, forming a rough semicircle. They chittered at each other, heads twitching.

  "Okay," I said, breathing hard even though I didn't have lungs. "New plan."

  "WHAT NEW PLAN?" the imp screeched.

  I raised my hand. "POCKET SAND!"

  The debris materialized instantly: red dust and grit, more than I'd produced last time. I hurled it in a wide arc across all three Gnawers.

  They screeched in unison, recoiling as the sand hit their exposed skulls and empty eye sockets. One of them started thrashing wildly, clawing at its own face. The other two scattered in opposite directions, temporarily blinded.

  I didn't wait. I sprinted after the lone Gnawer that had run left: one of the level 2s. It was still shaking its head, trying to clear the sand, when I caught up to it.

  Behind me, I could hear the others recovering. Screeching. Searching.

  But I had distance now. Maybe forty feet. Maybe more.

  The lone Gnawer stopped shaking its head and focused on me. It crouched low, embers flaring between its ribs.

  I looked around desperately. We were in open ground now, away from the pillars. No cover. No...

  Wait.

  There. Half-buried in the dirt about twenty feet away. A rock. Bigger than the one I'd thrown before. Roughly the size of a brick.

  The Gnawer lunged.

  My Delayed Reaction kicked in.

  2.4 seconds.

  The creature sailed toward me, claws extended, jaws open wide enough to show rows of blackened teeth.

  1.8 seconds.

  I dropped flat.

  The Gnawer passed over me, so close I could feel the heat radiating from its body. It landed badly, skidding across the dirt.

  1.2 seconds.

  I scrambled toward the rock, fingers closing around it. Heavy. Solid. Sharp edges.

  0.6 seconds.

  The Gnawer turned, already launching itself at me again.

  0.0 seconds.

  I swung.

  The rock connected with the side of the Gnawer's skull mid-leap. There was a sickening crunch: bone meeting stone with enough force to redirect the creature's trajectory entirely. It slammed into the ground beside me, twitching.

  I didn't think. I brought the rock down again. And again.

  The Gnawer stopped moving.

  A notification appeared.

  ASH GNAWER DEFEATED

  EXPERIENCE GAINED: 25 XP

  CURRENT EXPERIENCE: 115 / 100

  Another notification immediately followed.

  LEVEL UP! YOU ARE NOW LEVEL 2 ATTRIBUTES INCREASED NEW SKILL POINT AVAILABLE

  REWARD AVAILABLE

  (Go to a temporary sanctuary to claim the reward, not a "safe room" Daniel)

  I stared at the messages, chest heaving with exertion I shouldn't be able to feel.

  "Daniel," the imp said urgently. "The others."

  I looked up. The remaining four Ash Gnawers were approaching. Slower now. Cautious. They'd seen what happened to their packmate.

  I stood up slowly, still gripping the blood-stained rock.

  The Gnawers stopped about fifteen feet away. They chittered at each other, heads tilting in that unnerving synchronized way.

  Then, one by one, they turned and skittered back toward the depression.

  I watched them go, not quite believing it.

  "Did they just... leave?" I asked.

  "Pack animals," the imp said. "They're reassessing whether you're worth the risk."

  "Oh."

  I looked down at the rock in my hand. Then at the dead Ash Gnawer at my feet, its skull caved in on one side.

  I dropped the rock and looked at my hands. They were shaking slightly.

  Another notification appeared.

  ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: FIRST KILL

  BONUS EXPERIENCE: 10 XP

  CURRENT EXPERIENCE: 25 / 200

  "I leveled up," I said, still processing.

  "You did? Good, good." the imp said. "Not bad for someone with 'reduced initiative in voluntary aggression.'"

  I looked back toward the depression. The four remaining Gnawers were nowhere to be seen.

  "Should we go after them?" I asked.

  "Absolutely not," the imp said. "You got lucky once. Don't push it."

  "Fair point."

  I started walking back toward the safe room, legs still unsteady. The pink sash was covered in red dust and a few small tears. The rock I'd used was still lying where I'd dropped it, dark stains visible even in the red light.

  "Daniel," the imp said after a moment.

  "Yeah?"

  "That was actually kind of impressive."

  I looked at the imp. It was staring straight ahead, expression neutral.

  "Thanks," I said.

  We walked in silence for a while. In the distance, the white structure of the Gallery loomed, vast and patient.

  I checked my status.

  LEVEL: 2

  EXPERIENCE: 25 / 200

  SKILL POINT AVAILABLE: 1

  "One down," I said quietly. "Several thousand to go."

  The viewer count flickered in the corner of my vision.

  VIEWERS: 3

  Someone else had started watching.

  I made it back to the safe room.

  The alcove came into view after what felt like an hour of cautious walking, though it could have been ten minutes. Time felt slippery out here. The white walls of the Gallery loomed in the distance, patient and terrible.

  I stepped through the threshold and the oppressive weight lifted immediately. The air went neutral. Safe.

  The hare was exactly where I'd left it, pressed against the far wall.

  It looked up as I entered.

  Its enormous eyes went even wider.

  "YOU CAME BACK," it said, voice cracking with what sounded like genuine surprise.

  "I said I would."

  "PEOPLE SAY THINGS," the hare said, scrambling to its feet. "THAT DOESN'T MEAN THEY—"

  It stopped mid-sentence.

  Its gaze locked onto my hand.

  "YOUR HAND," it shrieked. "YOUR HAND IS COVERED IN BLOOD."

  I looked down. My bone fingers were stained dark red. Dried blood from the Ash Gnawer's crushed skull clung to the joints, flaking slightly as I flexed them.

  "OH NO," the hare continued, voice rising. "DID YOU GET HURT? DID SOMETHING BITE YOUR HAND OFF? IS THAT EVEN YOUR HAND?"

  "I'm a skeleton," I said flatly.

  The hare stared at me.

  "I don't bleed," I continued. "This is from the thing I killed."

  "Oh." The hare looked at my hand again. Then at me. Then back at my hand. "OH. That's… that's actually worse somehow."

  "How is that worse?"

  "BECAUSE IT MEANS YOU ACTUALLY KILLED SOMETHING," it said, starting to pace in tight circles. "WHAT IF IT HAD FRIENDS? WHAT IF THEY'RE COMING? WHAT IF THEY KNOW WHERE WE ARE?"

  "They're not coming," I said, sitting down against the wall. The pink sash was torn in two places and covered in red dust. The imp hopped off my shoulder and landed on the pedestal.

  The hare was still staring at me, trembling slightly. But it wasn't running. It wasn't screaming anymore.

  "You really came back," it said again, quieter this time.

  "Yeah."

  A notification appeared in my vision.

  REWARD AVAILABLE

  CLAIM REWARD?

  [YES] [NO]

  I blinked at it. "Another reward?"

  "What?" the imp asked.

  "There's a… hold on."

  I mentally selected [YES].

  A soft chime echoed through the alcove. The blue light from the waypoint pulsed once, and something small materialized in the air before dropping into my lap with a light tink.

  I picked it up.

  It was a name tag. The kind you'd get at a terrible conference or a mandatory team-building event. Rectangular. White background. Red border. And printed across it in cheerful, slightly aggressive letters:

  HELLO, MY NAME IS: DANIEL

  A description flickered into view.

  OFFICIALLY UNOFFICIAL NAME TAG

  ACCESSORY – PIN

  A name tag that insists you exist, even when Hell would prefer you didn't.

  EFFECT:

  When equipped, you may select one attribute to receive +1.

  WARNING: This bonus is permanent once applied and cannot be changed. When you unequip the pin, the effect will go with it.

  I stared at it.

  "A name tag," I said slowly.

  I turned the tag over in my hand. The back had a pin attachment. I could clip it right onto the pink sash.

  "Okay," I muttered. "Fine. Let's see what we're working with."

  I pulled up my status screen.

  CHARACTER STATUS

  NAME: DANIEL KERES

  LEVEL: 2

  EXPERIENCE: 25 / 200

  ATTRIBUTES:

  STRENGTH: 4

  AGILITY: 6

  ENDURANCE: 3

  COGNITION: 9

  INSTINCT: 8

  PRESENCE: 1

  I stared at the numbers. Endurance was pathetically low. Strength wasn't much better. But Cognition and Instinct were actually decent.

  "Put it in Endurance," the imp said.

  "Why Endurance?"

  "Because you almost died three times in the last hour," it said. "And Endurance means you can take more hits before falling apart. Literally."

  I looked at the name tag again. Then at my stats.

  "Yeah," I said. "That makes sense."

  I mentally selected ENDURANCE.

  The name tag flashed briefly, and a line of text appeared.

  ENDURANCE: 3 → 4

  BONUS APPLIED.

  I pinned the name tag onto the pink sash, right above the words PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. It looked ridiculous. But then again, so did everything else about my current situation.

  Another notification appeared.

  LEVEL UP REWARDS AVAILABLE

  DISTRIBUTABLE ATTRIBUTE POINTS: 5

  SKILL POINTS: 1

  I sat up straighter. "Wait, I have five attribute points?"

  The imp tilted its head. "That's for leveling up."

  "And I can put them anywhere?"

  "Yes."

  I stared at the notification. Five points. I could dump them all into one stat. Or spread them out. Or—

  "You're overthinking this," the imp said.

  "I'm thinking the correct amount," I said. "What if I need a specific stat total for something later? What if there's equipment that requires certain thresholds?"

  "What?"

  "You know. Like—" I gestured vaguely. "In games. Sometimes you need exactly 10 Strength to equip a weapon. Or 15 Agility to unlock a skill tree. If I spend these points now and then find something that needs a specific total, I'm screwed."

  The imp stared at me. "You're going to hoard stat points."

  "I'm being strategic."

  "You're going to die because you refused to get stronger now in case you need to be stronger later."

  "It's a valid strategy," I said defensively. "I did this all the time when I was alive. Beat hundreds of games. Thousands of hours. You always save your points until you know what you need."

  "You spent thousands of hours playing games?"

  "What else was I going to do?" I said. "I was alone for forty-three years. I played every game I could find. Finished everything. Twice. Sometimes three times. I know how RPG systems work."

  The imp looked at me for a long moment.

  "You're insane," it said finally.

  "I'm prepared."

  I dismissed the attribute allocation screen without spending anything. The five points sat there, unallocated, waiting.

  "What about the skill point?" the imp asked.

  "Oh." I pulled up the skill menu.

  SKILL POINT AVAILABLE: 1

  SELECT A SKILL TO UNLOCK PROGRESSION PATH:

  - DELAYED REACTION

  - POCKET SAND

  I looked at both options. Pocket Sand was absurd but it had saved my life. Delayed Reaction, though—that was the skill that let me actually move when things went wrong.

  "Delayed Reaction," I said.

  I selected it.

  The notification changed.

  DELAYED REACTION – PROGRESSION UNLOCKED

  SKILL QUEST AVAILABLE

  OBJECTIVE: Successfully evade or counter 10 attacks using Delayed Reaction.

  PROGRESS: 3 / 10

  REWARD: DELAYED REACTION LEVEL 2

  EFFECT UPGRADE: Reaction window reduced to 2.0 seconds. Evasion accuracy increased.

  I read it twice.

  "A quest," I said. "If I complete this, the skill gets faster. Better. I just need to finish the quest."

  I stared at the quest notification. Ten successful uses. I was already almost a third of the way there.

  "Okay," I said. "This is good. This is progress."

  The hare, who had been watching this entire exchange in confused silence, finally spoke up.

  "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?" it asked.

  "Stat allocation," I said.

  "WHAT'S A STAT?"

  "Never mind."

  I stood up, brushing red dust off my bones. The pink sash hung crookedly across my ribcage, the name tag pinned proudly above it. I looked utterly ridiculous.

  The imp climbed back onto my shoulder.

  "So what now?" it asked.

  I looked out at the wasteland. At the white Gallery in the distance.

  "Now," I said, "I go kill more things until I'm strong enough to not die immediately."

  "THAT'S STILL A TERRIBLE PLAN," the hare wailed.

  "Probably," I agreed. "But it's the only plan I've got."

  The viewer count flickered.

  VIEWERS: 3

  I ignored it and stepped out of the safe room.