I was used to waking up in the middle of the night because my bladder decided to be difficult. Here I was startled awake by the sound of a door opening and a distant voice saying, "Something's coming. Elwood wants everyone outside." There was a lot of alarm in that voice. Alarm that stayed with me as I wrestled with the remnants of sleep.

  Opening my eyes was a shock. For a moment I couldn't remember where I was. All I knew I was not in my bed. Remembering how I ended up in that tiny room dispelled the faint hope that the events of yesterday were just a bad dream.

  The shabby door to my room was open. I didn't dream that wake-up call either.

  I jumped out of bed, marveling for a second at my new vitality. Nothing ached or felt stiff. A first for me in years.

  The two bars in the lower left corner of my vision were another reminder of my new reality. Both the red and the blue were completely filled up, sitting at 16/16 and 100/100 respectively. I knew for sure I didn't get a full night's rest, so seeing that energy bar completely refilled was encouraging.

  Above the bars I now also spotted a tiny shield icon. The number 13 was written in it. My educated guess recognized it as an armor indicator.

  It was beyond frustrating to have all this information floating out there while I had no idea how to see it. Having it all come to me gradually helped with not getting overwhelmed. At the same time, without being able to see the full picture, I feared I was messing things up.

  I could hear the sounds of feet running and vague murmurs coming from outside. There was no time to ponder mechanics. Without giving it a second thought, I put on my shirt, then my jacket. I've fallen asleep with my jeans on, so at least I didn't need to struggle with those. As soon as the jacket was on, the number in the shield ticked up by 1 to a total of 14.

  This was a relief. I wasn't sure if that number represented damage resistance, armor class, or armor-based extra hit points. At least it wasn't a THAC0 system where paradoxically, the less armor you had the more armor you had. That saved me from having to run around in my boxers like some idiot.

  I was about to leave the room when all that armor management reminded me I was a Fighter now. And Fighters used weapons. The closest thing to a weapon I had within reach was my cane. It was no assault rifle, but it was better than nothing.

  When I reached for the cane leaned against the desk, wondering if I should've asked Elwood for a gun after all, a scroll appeared in the air above the thing. The scroll was much smaller than the one I used to level up, close in size to your average smartphone. It also looked more weathered than its larger cousin. The scroll's surface was covered in words.

  Walking Stick

  A simple walking stick decorated with a carved handle. The only remarkable thing about it is its relative sturdiness.

  1-6 blunt damage

  I could examine things. Now that I've done it once, I was able to use the same trick on just about any object.

  There was no time to experiment now. As I was leaving my room, the only other thing I examined was the sleeve of my jacket.

  Leather Jacket

  A not-too-terribly crafted leather jacket. It's not true armor, but it will still protect you from scrapes and glancing hits from smaller and duller blades.

  AC +1

  So this was an armor class system. I liked those. From my experience with games, 14 AC was pitifully low. Running past others who looked even more groggy and worried than I was, I knew I wouldn't feel safe until I got that number up to at least a 30.

  With the cane resting on my shoulder, I noticed that while the AC shield was positioned above my health bar to the right, to the left of it there now was an icon of crossed swords with the numbers 5-10 inside. I concluded this was my current damage. The base 1-6 from the cane modified by my stats or skills.

  There already was a small crowd outside when I joined them. No one was paying me any attention. That was all aimed at a vortex of purple fast approaching our location. This one was much smaller than what raged yesterday through the city, and outside of it the air was clear of any unnatural shades.

  Elwood's people were taking up defensive positions behind barricades they'd hastily constructed overnight.

  Before the vortex reached us, it dissipated. Confused sighs of relief rolled through the compound, but the air of tension remained. No one was willing to let their guard down.

  Moments later, a lone figure appeared from behind the tree line. It was a tall man wearing a double-breasted suit of a deep green color. The suit had large gold buttons, giving him the appearance of a leprechaun. Only instead of a top hat or a mane of red hair one usually associated with the Irish, the man was completely bald. No hair, no beard, not even eyebrows. He looked kind of like Mr. Clean.

  I marveled at being able to see him so well from what was still a considerable distance. And then it hit me.

  I was quickly getting used to seeing all sorts of weird shit. It took me a bit to process that the man wasn't actually walking. He was hovering a few feet above the ground, floating through the air much like Christopher Walken in that one music video.

  My mouth was still agape when the intruder disappeared. A blink later he appeared again, much closer to the fence than before.

  Upon witnessing this startling way of locomotion, Elwood barked hurried orders to his people. They all aimed at the man.

  Not used to taking orders, and never much of a follower, I found myself standing alone in the open. Wearing a pair of jeans, a leather jacket, and brandishing a dragon-headed cane. As I eyed the man floating towards me, ominously, I was already regretting not putting more points into Charisma.

  The man ignored the weapons pointed at him. During his final approach, he only turned to look at the scattered goblin corpses with a great deal of distaste.

  "Not a step closer," Elwood shouted from behind Quint's truck still parked out front. The leader of the militia was wearing a tactical vest and was pointing a shotgun at the intruder.

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  The man looked down at his feet that weren't moving as he kept being propelled forward, and cracked a smile.

  "Was that a joke? If so, good one," he said in a smooth deep voice.

  He finally stopped about a yard away from the truck. Several dozen guns were his welcome. That didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. He surveyed the area, taking it all in. For a brief moment, our eyes met. Me standing there only got a slight shrug out of him.

  The man was clearly not of this world. If his appearance was only slightly unusual, his floating like it was the most normal thing was a dead giveaway. And he could speak. He understood us. We could communicate. This wasn't a mindless monster that charged at you on sight.

  Much like with Quint earlier, I wasn't able to bring up his health bar. I then tried to examine him the same way I did with my cane and jacket.

  Sensate Avatar

  You lack the mental capacity to comprehend this being.

  This was one of those Sensate bastards. I had to stop myself from charging at him with a battle cry.

  As I was processing the implications of that description and working out a more measured course of action, a loud bang pierced the crisp morning air.

  Quint was standing partially covered by his truck, his legs far apart and both hands holding a long-barreled revolver. Elwood was crouched by him, looking up at the wisp of smoke trailing from the gun's barrel.

  The Sensate, who I assumed was the target, kept floating there unbothered. At first I thought Quint missed. Then the lawyer said, "You've been warned not to come any closer," and shot two more times.

  As the bullets were about to hit the Sensate, a filmy bubble shimmered around him. It stopped the projectiles in a shower of sparks, leaving the green bastard unharmed.

  "How rude," the Sensate said. "And just as we were starting to bond over our sense of humor."

  He extended a hand at Quint. A lightning bolt crackled, hitting the lawyer in the chest. It propelled him back with such force, the poor guy landed at my feet. The other members of Elwood's militia responded by opening up on the intruder.

  In the roaring commotion that followed, I dropped down to check on Quint. He was still breathing, if barely. The lightning hit him close to the shoulder, sizzling that area to a blackened crisp. His hand was still clutching onto the gun.

  Again I tried to access Quint's health bar to no avail.

  My frustration spilled over into me punching the ground, leaving a deep dent in the dirt while a firefight raged around me. A quick glance over my shoulder revealed that the Sensate's defenses were holding despite a veritable rain of lead descending on him.

  I wondered if I needed a First Aid or Doctor skill to help Quint. As the thought entered my brain, a startling jolt buzzed through my spine. A scroll unfurled over Quint.

  Unable to interact with this character.

  To interact with this character, you need to add him to your party.

  Add the character to your party?

  Without thinking about it twice, I confirmed the prompt. There was a surge of energy inside me as I did. It passed through me and poured into Quint.

  When the sensation ceased, there was a new description scroll above the lawyer.

  Quint Callaway – Human Undefined

  Humans are the most common race in all the lands. Adaptable and crafty, they're well-suited but rarely optimal for any task.

  This particular one is yet to pick a class.

  This was a start. I quickly shifted my eyes to bring up his health bar once more. This time it worked. A bar adorned with swords, helmets, and what looked like gryphons was completely depleted and sat at 0/12.

  I could see Quint was still alive even with his health at 0. As I tried to wrap my head around this, a scroll appeared asking me if I wanted to stabilize him. I agreed. Quint didn't restore any hit points, but his health bar turned green. Immediately his breathing grew steadier and his whole form more relaxed.

  The sounds of gunfire slowed down around me. Most of Elwood's people reloading, while others exchanged quick barks of frustration. The Sensate remained hovering before them.

  He spoke, and his words reverberated through the air, piercing all background noise. "You know, I was hoping for a small taste of local culture before we got down to business. But if you insist on being this way, I guess it can't be helped. Feel proud in knowing that your biomass will help set the stage."

  The Sensate raised his arm, fingers joined together like he was miming an Italian gesture. He then dropped his arm and opened his palm. When he did, Elwood's entire group disappeared. Their bodies popped like balloons. They all dissolved into a mass of fleeting ooze that seeped into the ground.

  Quint remained sprawled at my feet. Breathing. I wondered if me adding him to the party allowed him to avoid the grim fate of his friends.

  I didn't know them that long. Still, seeing them vanish like that hit me harder than driving through the empty city yesterday. It put that larger-scale desolation into context. Framed it. Showed me that all those people in Denver weren't spirited off to somewhere. They were deleted with ill intent.

  No, not even that. The Sensate, if he had one, would be raising an eyebrow at me right now. I saw no malice in his gaze. Only careless disregard for us humans, with just a slight hint of amusement.

  "Oh, what's this?" the Sensate asked, moving closer to me.

  "Better question is, what the fuck are you and what have you done to my world?" I went on the offensive.

  "Your world?" the Sensate snorted, now mere steps away. "Oh, that's rich. You, monkeys, just about squandered it when we stopped you from imploding half the solar system. Way we see it, this means we're free to do with you as we please. And what we please is a spectacle." He paused. "Wait. That didn't come out right. Still getting used to your crude language."

  I simply stood there, dumbfounded, listening to him take a dump on good old English. The casual tone of this conversation put a twitch in my left eye.

  "Well never you mind that," the alien cut himself short. "The bigger item on the agenda is me coming here to manually collect the unaugmented and finding a rounder among them. Guess it's my lucky day."

  "I'll show you a lucky day, cabron," I yelled as I lunged at the Sensate.

  My legs propelled me forward with speed I never thought possible. I covered the distance between us in one giant leap, raising the cane to attack.

  "Oh? We've got a live one." The Sensate was smiling as I reached him.

  That stupid grin infuriated me even more. I wasn't thinking about technique or martial arts. I simply had to bash this smug asshole over the head. Even so, instead of a clumsy overhead smash, I raised the cane as if to attack from the right to then change its trajectory as part of that same smooth motion and hit the alien from the left.

  As the cane connected, the shimmering shield came up again. I thought I spotted a crack form on its surface before it settled into its invisible state. The number 0 that floated above it also gave me hope I wasn't merely delaying the inevitable here. None of the gunfire squeezed any numbers out of that shield.

  "Time to pay the man his money," I said in my best John Malkovich accent as I launched into a flurry of attacks.

  I knew that if I slowed down even for a second to think about what I was doing, I'd freeze, unable to process this newfound fighting prowess. I let my body take control, my mind focused on stinging one-liners I threw at the Sensate from time to time.

  Having started with the Rounders quote, I then hit him with something from Terminator 2, then a random, "Adrian," when I threw in an uppercut to spice up my offensive. Anything to wipe the smugness off his bald face.

  Finally, when I started to breathe heavy and my energy bar went down a few points, the Sensate's eyes flashed. He extended a finger at me. As I was about to land another hit, my feet spun me around, moving the rest of my body out of the way.

  A malignant green beam extended from the finger. It missed me by inches, hitting the ground. The grass around the point of impact turned a sickly shade of brown, a smell of death and decay filling the air.

  My dodge placed me behind the hovering alien. I changed the grip on my cane to a two-handed one and slammed it into him like I was hitting the mother of all home runs.

  The cane split in my hands, its upper dragon-headed part flying far and leaving me behind with a short stump of a stick.

  I wasn't bothered by that much. Instead of a 0, that final swing produced a 1. The shield glimmered one last time before shattering.

  The Sensate roared in laughter. "Who knew the ape had it in him," he started saying.

  A gun roared three times, interrupting him. All three shots hit their intended target, adding three bullet holes to the alien's chest.

  Purple mist billowed from his open mouth. Then the chest wounds. The mist kept coming until it enveloped me, Quint and the whole surrounding area. It happened so fast, there was no time to react or run.

  Mere moments later the mist dissipated. The Sensate was gone. So was the compound. It was replaced by a crude encampment filled with lopsided tents, piles of refuse, a bonfire, and a few leaky kegs.

  Quint and I were the only ones there.

  The lawyer was holding himself up on one elbow. The revolver was dangling limp in his hand. His health read at 1/12.

  He looked at me, wide-eyed.

  "I see them now. The numbers. And health bars. You weren't crazy."

  Billy Joel Facts - Chapter 7: