Grace slanted her head, staring at him, and Rowan was sure she thought he was crazy. Isla’s voice startled them both.

  “Ah, good, you’re still here. Go to the church; there will be a short debrief about the alien encounter.”

  “What alien encounter, Isla?” Grace hissed with her voice's tone up a notch.

  “Monsters tried to eat us, but Rowan killed them all! Thomas helped, but just a little,” Lizzie stated. "And he swears, and he's mean."

  Grace began shouting at the blonde, but Rowan’s mind skimmed off their talk like a surfer a wave. His senses were tingling with alarm. All the cars were still there—except the bus— and all the parents and children, but a few black 4x4s had also appeared. People in black suits, half a dozen, guarded both ends of the road. Feds, most likely. He hated that kind of people.

  !!! Alert !!!

  The System decrypted the US government communication channels. The feds plan to transfer all participants in the Ominous Grove mini-dungeon event to a secret government facility for further examination. You, Thomas, and Lizzie have a 99% chance to be dissected.

  Quest: Survive

  Option 1: Run. Follow the river downstream and lose yourself in the mountains.

  Reward: Continued existence. Unlocks the Will Perk, threshold 2: Cold Soul. You will be able to control your emotions to perfection. Letting Lizzie be dissected will be no biggie. Hell, for a buck, you could dissect her yourself.

  Option 2: Stand Your Ground. Transform Elkins into a Fortress-style Mana Awakened City. Hostiles will be teleported out of its boundaries and denied further access. Accepting this path will consume the Core you looted. The process will be self-explanatory.

  Reward: Continued existence. Unlocks the Will Perk, threshold 2: High-Tier Artifact User. Able to use high-tier Artifacts.

  Instinctively, Rowan forwarded his hand in front of him, palm up. A ball of light appeared above it, hovering in the air.

  “Hey, what’s that? Put it back immediately. Don’t make me tase you!” Isla touched her holster.

  “Don’t worry,” Rowan said, but before he could continue, time stopped. The policewoman’s eyes, her hand, frozen in motion. Lizzie pouting, Grace screaming, the same.

  You have ten seconds to decide. Do you choose 1 or 2?

  Two… I won’t let some asshole feds dissect kids…

  The light grew. A shock wave akin to a gust of wind and a flash erupted from the sphere, going up the sky and then losing itself in the distance, briefly bathing the mountains in its light. Then, time resumed. Rowan's ears buzzed, and discomfort started from his shoulder, a hard tingle making his arm twitch. His eyes were barely able to see because of the afterimage. There were faint noises of people panicking and cars leaving. Parents and kids fleeing. The black cars and suits had vanished, and the shadows of the sunset had more depth.

  "Hey! That's not cool!" Rowan yelled, noticing the Taser darts stuck in his jacket, still delivering the discharge. “This is my fav jacket!”

  "Isla! Are you mad?" Grace yelled. "Lizzie, get back; don't touch those wires!"

  “I’m sorry!” Isla screamed, taking her finger off the trigger. “He startled me. I thought it was a grenade or something.”

  “Are you hurt?” Grace asked Rowan, eyes widened.

  “He’s OK,” Lizzie yelled. “He's a hero!”

  Rowan shook his head, then pulled out the dart from his shoulder. The skin underneath felt sour, but he had barely registered the electric shock.

  [Elkins Town’s Core AI to Rowan]: Hi. I’m… err… the Awakened Town’s AI, at your service. As per default settings, you hear my voice and see a text simultaneously. Your Tough Cookie Perk is enhanced within Elkins’s boundaries. Your body is more resistant to pain and mild electric shocks. It also counters small and medium-caliber bullets by spreading the energy over a larger surface. In short, your skin acts like a bulletproof vest.

  “What about my favorite jacket?” Rowan wailed. “It’s an Enzo Car Coat. I paid a thousand bucks for it.”

  “Your fault!” Isla yelled, rewinding the Taser wire. “What the heck was that shit?”

  [Elkins Town’s Core AI to Rowan]: Your jacket is now considered a Light Leather Armor and bound to you. If you keep it inside the town’s boundaries, it will be repaired within twenty-four hours. The T-shirt, on the other hand, needs to be stitched manually. Thank you for keeping calm after hearing my voice in your head. Statistics show that most people behave hysterically during an Awakening.

  Rowan ignored the message and addressed the blonde. “I just saved our lives. Those feds were going to dissect us. By using an… artifact, I teleported them out of town. That was that shit.”

  “This is crazy,” Grace mumbled.

  “And I'm supposed to believe it just because you say so?” the policewoman sneered.

  “Isla, and… err… please, just calm down!” Grace put her hands up in a stopping gesture.

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

  “Rowan, his name is Rowan,” Lizzie reminded her. "A HERO! And daddy material," she whispered the last words to Grace, hiding her mouth behind her hand.

  Some loud bangs attracted their attention. It was Thomas, hitting the police car’s rear door glass with his fists from the inside. The other policeman was nowhere to be seen.

  “Oh, my God, I forgot my child was locked into the car,” Isla panicked, rushing to the vehicle.

  “Hi, Miss Grace,” Thomas said once freed. “Mom, Rowan’s right. I got the quest as well. I'll forward you the notification as proof. You did great, man. I expected you’d run.”

  [Elkins Town’s Core AI to Rowan]: Thomas was going to take over the Stand Your Ground quest if you’d refused. We need to select different Perks and settings for the town. Please do so as soon as possible.

  Shut up! “I need a drink…” Rowan massaged his forehead. First, fighting monsters, now a voice speaking into his mind… it was a lot to cope with.

  “Let’s go home,” Grace proposed. “I certainly need one too.”

  "At least come to the department to give a statement," Isla said to Rowan, kneading her hands.

  "No, Isla," Graced stated bluntly, stepping in front of Rowan. "We’re going home. You'll have your statement when he's ready for it."

  “Fine!” The policewoman sulked visibly. “Don’t leave town before you give your statement!”

  “I won’t,” Rowan promised. “Scout’s honor.” He never had been a scout, but who cared. “Err… how are we going to your place?” he asked. The only car still hanging around was the police vehicle.

  “We live around the corner, we’ll walk,” Grace said.

  “Bye, Isla, bye, Thomas the swear machine,” Lizzie pulled her tongue on the boy.

  Isla replied by flickering her fingers. Just go. This is too much for me, her gesture conveyed.

  Five minutes later, after turning around the park—a detour Rowan explained to the ballerina shoes Grace wore—they arrived five hundred feet across from where they started. Grace’s house was a two-story charming Arts and Crafts brick building with a porch and a small garden behind. A gray sedan that had seen better days was parked on the street.

  “Come, let’s go inside, I’ll prepare dinner. You’ll stay with us for the night; that goes without saying.”

  Rowan nodded. It was early evening, and the situation looked crazy enough to take a day off to figure out things. He followed the woman. The front door was opened, and after passing through a small mud room, they arrived at a large open space with a dining zone and a sitting area. One could tell some effort had been invested in the decorations and overall design.

  “Lizzie, thank God you’re safe!”

  A man in his late fifties rose from a leather couch and came forward, hugging the girl. His house robe, silky and luxurious, thrown over an elegant house suit, was striking in itself, but the man’s mustache was even more shocking. Strong and thick, its tips curved upward. Once the hug finished, he offered a handshake. “Hello, young man. I’m Dmitri.”

  “Rowan Allinder. Sorry to be so direct, but that’s the most impressive facial hair I've ever seen,” Rowan said.

  “Thank you,” the man bowed. He was obviously very proud of his mustache.

  “Dmitri is a retired art teacher,” Grace said. “He rents for the year and worked for the college until recently.”

  “It's cheaper to live here, and I like to live near other artists.”

  “Mommy is a singer and plays the uptight piano,” Lizzie advertised, pointing to the musical instrument.

  “Upright piano, sweetheart. Dmitri, please help me make some food.” Grabbing the retiree’s arm, Grace pulled him into the kitchen. She closed the sliding doors behind her, but Rowan’s hearing, enhanced by the new stats, caught everything.

  “Don’t stare at him like that, Dmitri. I forbid you to make a pass at our guest.”

  “No problem, you call dibs. I get it.”

  “I’m not calling anything. He saved Lizzie’s life. I don’t want him to leave with a bad experience. Promise to behave?”

  “C’mon! You know me better, Gracie-dear. I would never hit on a kid. Even if he’s smitten with my mustache.”

  I’m twenty-five, you prick! And not interested anyway.

  “You want to play hide and seek in the garden?” Lizzie asked, and the kitchen conversation disintegrated from his focus.

  “Of course!” Rowan exclaimed. “I love hide and seek.”

  Playing with Lizzie proved to be a blast. Often, her cute little feet were showing from behind bushes, giving her away, and some old basket, put on the head, was enough to make her invisible in her mind. Lizzie was a funny kid, and Rowan enjoyed playing together. Still, he wasn’t the type to lie or lose on purpose—too much—and after a while, they started throwing a ball at each other. Thirty minutes later, Grace called them inside.

  Eating and chatting took two hours. The food was awesome: buckwheat pancakes with different fillings that melted in the mouth. An amazing wine to go with the food and a fantastic whiskey from a decanter to accompany the desserts.

  “This must be the high rye, ten-year small batch,” Rowan said softly. Lizzie had fallen asleep on the nearby couch.

  “No idea, Dmitri bought it,” Grace half-shrugged.

  “It is. You’re a connoisseur?” Dmitri toasted.

  “Sort of. I work in the Bourbon business.”

  “Interesting. Tell me more.”

  “It’s a short story. I love Bourbon and decided to work in the industry. That was a few years ago. Now, I’m an assistant production manager in a small distillery.”

  “Nice,” Dmitri nodded. “What brought you around here? Except Karma, of course.”

  “I sold my car to a guy in Virginia and brought it to him. He invited me to a Bluegrass concert, and I spent the night in a guest room. He arranged for a tourist bus to give me a ride and… I think we should continue our chat tomorrow,” Rowan looked at Lizzie, who was snoring softly.

  “I’ll put Lizzie to bed and show you your room,” Grace said. The woman took the dozing child in her arms and climbed the stairs.

  “Good night,” Dmitri exited the room in his turn.

  Five minutes later, Grace returned, letting herself fall on the couch, her arms limp and eyes resting on the ceiling. An image of exhaustion, if any. “She woke up, needed her plush, and I searched everywhere. Found it under her bed, eventually.”

  “She’s so sweet,” Rowan smiled. “And a strong personality.”

  “You don’t need to tell me.” Grace giggled, covering her face with her hands.

  “A last glass?” he offered a refill.

  “So be it.”

  Grace took a large sip, then searched his eyes. “Was it as bad as she told us?”

  “It was worse. Just being honest.”

  A shiver passed through Grace’s body.

  “I’m no hero. It... just happened.”

  Grace nodded, smiling a bitter smile. For a good minute, she stared into nothingness, glass in hand, and then she took another large sip, finishing it. “Lizzie too… just happened. She wasn’t… planned…”

  Rowan replied with silence, letting her continue.

  “I… took the morning-after pill… but she was there, hanging on. Then…” she diverted her eyes.

  “You wanted an abortion?”

  “Yes. And changed my mind at the last minute… I had… a dreadful feeling. A panic attack, maybe? I like to call it a premonition. I knew she was destined to be. My boyfriend and I broke up. He… we… were too young. Last college year.”

  Rowan nodded, with tears filling his eyes.

  “Today, when she left with the school bus, I felt the same. The dread. I wanted to stop her and keep her home, but I forced myself to let her go. I thought it would do her good. Teach her to be more independent... Thank you..."

  Shaking her head, she wiped her tears and rose, letting the glass down on the coffee table. He followed her up another row of stairs to the farthest corner of the house.

  “It’s the quietest room I have.”

  They both entered the room simultaneously, and it was small. She tripped on a crease in the carpet, and as they bumped into each other, Grace’s arms enveloped his neck, which may have been a support against falling, but maybe not. For a few long seconds, they stood there, immobile. Her breasts were generous, even if she was thin and petite. He kissed her, at first a nibble, but as she replied with passion, he answered in kind.

  Her mouth tasted like the Bourbon, and that one was one of his favorites. Clothes went away, and the 'just in case' pack of condoms he carried around in his backpack finally found its usefulness. She mounted him, moaning softly, moving slowly, then faster. He interpreted the position as the need to control things and feel safe.

  It was fantastic sex, one of the best he had ever had, yet somehow, he was torn in two. One part enjoyed it, the second… The second thought about too many things. Could he hurt her with his enhanced body? That made Rowan extra gentle. At times, his thoughts erred into lewd territories. What if it were Isla in Grace’s place? He dismissed the thought—Grace was wonderful enough to merit his undivided attention—but it crept back at least twice.

  In the end, Grace rested near him, her head on his shoulder, breathing heavily, then softly, falling asleep in his arms. He let his thoughts err freely for a while, then fell asleep as well.