Chapter 10

  I was already running toward the screaming, energy sword activated, Byte racing ahead with his sensors on full alert. The sound had come from the eastern edge of camp, high-pitched, terrified, then abruptly cut off.

  Then that laugh. That wrong, too-high-pitched laugh that made my skin crawl.

  The creature was back.

  I reached the source of the scream and stopped dead. A woman, one of the scouts whose name I'd never learned, lay on the ground, her eyes wide and vacant, staring at nothing. No visible wounds, no blood. Just... dead.

  And standing over her, backlit by the purple glow of the approaching suns, was the creature.

  It tilted its head as I approached, studying me with that featureless face. Up close, I could see the wrongness more clearly: limbs too long, joints that bent at impossible angles, skin that seemed to shift and blur at the edges like a poorly rendered image.

  "What are you?" I breathed, raising my sword.

  The creature opened its mouth, that impossibly wide grin, and laughed.

  Before I could react, before I could strike or run or do anything, a voice filled my mind with crisp clarity: "Maura, MOVE!"

  I dove to the side on pure instinct. A crossbow bolt whistled through the space where I'd been standing, slamming into the creature's chest. It shrieked, a sound nothing like its laugh, and bolted into the forest, moving with that too-fast, too-fluid motion.

  I rolled to my feet, sword up, searching for whoever had shot at... me? The creature? Both?

  That's when I saw them. Figures emerging from the treeline. Seven of them, moving in a tight formation. Armed with crossbows, swords, guns, and weapons that crackled with magical energy. Not initiates from our camp. We'd doubled the patrols after the creature sightings, but I could see two of our sentries slumped at the forest's edge, motionless. The raiders had dealt with them first, silently.

  I focused on the nearest figure, and Data Integration fed me what I didn't want to know.

  Human. Level 15.

  My blood ran cold. I checked another. Level 18. Another. Level 14. These weren't desperate survivors. These were hunters, organized and well-equipped, every one of them at least double my level.

  And they were attacking.

  A spectral form materialized beside me, the guide from my class selection, their perception filter dropping just enough for me to see them.

  "Your tent. Now," their voice commanded in my mind. "We have seconds before they overrun the camp."

  "What..."

  "NOW."

  The first screams were starting. Not from the creature this time, but from people waking to find armed raiders in their shelters. I saw someone, Tomas, the scout, try to fight back, only to be cut down by two attackers at once.

  My body moved before my mind caught up, running back toward my shelter as chaos erupted around me. The guide stayed close, somehow keeping us invisible to the raiders cutting through camp.

  Inside my tent, something in my gut told me to grab everything I couldn't afford to lose. If this was what I thought it was, I might not be coming back. I stuffed essentials into my pack with shaking hands: phone, materials, the orc's totem. "What's happening? Who are they?"

  "Hostile forces. High-level initiates who've been hunting other camps for points and resources. I detected their approach too late to warn the camp, but I can save you." The guide's form flickered with what might have been distress. "If I'm discovered helping you, my existence will be forfeit. You have a choice: come with me now, or stay and face capture or death. Decide quickly."

  The sharp crack of a gunshot echoed across camp. Crossbow bolts thudding into shelters. Someone screaming for help.

  "I need to get my friends..."

  "There's no time. They're already rounding people up. If you go out there, you'll be captured, and I'll be decommissioned. Your survival is more important than you know."

  Every instinct screamed at me to fight, to help, to do something. But the guide's urgency, the sounds of violence outside, the raiders' levels dwarfing mine...

  I grabbed Byte and my pack. "Once we're safe, you owe me explanations. All of them."

  The guide nodded, their form stabilizing slightly. "You'll have them. Now stay behind me and match my steps exactly."

  * * *

  Moving through the camp was a nightmare. The guide's perception filter made us difficult to notice, but we still had to navigate around raiders, burning tents, and people being dragged from their shelters.

  I saw Billy's body sprawled near the well he'd been digging. The jovial guy who'd joked about striking gold down there any day now. Now just... gone. My stomach churned, but the guide pulled me forward.

  "Two steps left," the guide instructed telepathically. "Don't look at them. Don't react."

  We crept past a pair of raiders discussing their haul. Through gaps in the tents, I saw the others dragging people toward the center of camp, binding their hands, separating them into groups.

  Then I saw the hospital tent. Several raiders were surrounding it.

  My breath caught. Corwin was in there. Jackie. The other wounded.

  "We need a diversion," I whispered.

  Before the guide could protest, I activated Holographic Decoy. The skill I'd just learned flickered to life, a perfect duplicate of myself materializing beside me. I focused, directing it to sprint toward the forest's edge, making noise.

  Several raiders turned, shouting. "There! Someone's running!"

  They gave chase, and for a moment, I thought it worked.

  Then two figures emerged from the hospital tent, dragging people with them. My heart sank as I recognized Felix, his hands bound, his healer's staff confiscated. Behind him, a raider hauled Corwin out, his one remaining hand bound behind his back. He stumbled without it for balance. Josie, the healer who'd been monitoring Corwin overnight, was shoved out after them.

  No Jackie. I scanned the prisoners being dragged into the open, searching for her face. She wasn't there.

  Where is she?

  The lead raider, a massive man with a thick mustache and cruel eyes, shouted toward the camp center. "Found three more! And we're in luck, we got ourselves a healer!" He snatched Josie's healing staff, inspecting it with greedy satisfaction.

  I stepped forward instinctively, but the guide's grip on my arm was iron.

  "If you reveal yourself now, you'll be captured. I'll be decommissioned. And your friends will have died for nothing." The voice in my mind was desperate. "I'm sorry about your friends, but this is bigger than them. Bigger than all of them."

  I wanted to scream. To fight. To do anything but stand there hiding while Felix was dragged away.

  But the guide was right. Seven raiders had taken the camp in minutes, every one of them double my level or more. I was Level 7. I'd been in exactly three real fights: an enchanted boar, a flock of raptors, and a terrified orc.

  Charging in wouldn't save Felix. It would just get me killed or captured.

  Then an arrow came from nowhere.

  It buried itself in Mustache's collarbone, and he wailed, a guttural sound of pure rage. He released his prisoners, clawing at the shaft as his partner drew twin curved blades.

  Elara stepped out from between two burning tents, another arrow already nocked. Even in the chaos, even with the camp falling apart around her, she was steady. The tactical leader who'd taught me that a team beats solo fighters every time.

  "Let my friends go," she said, her voice cutting through the noise.

  Mustache snarled and raised a handgun. They fired at the same time.

  Elara's arrow flew true. Mustache dropped.

  But the crack of the gunshot had already reached me, and Elara was stumbling backward, hand pressed to her stomach. Blood, so much blood, soaked through her shirt as she sank to her knees.

  Our eyes met for one brief, terrible moment. She looked past me, toward the treeline. Her lips moved.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Run.

  Something inside me broke.

  The guide pulled me away before I could do something suicidal. "Focus. Your survival is essential. I promise you'll find a way to help them, but only if you're alive to try."

  I followed mechanically, my mind refusing to process what I'd just seen. Elara. Who'd taught me how to work with a team. Who'd trusted me with expeditions. Who'd smiled and said my communication hub could save lives.

  Dead. And she'd spent her last breath saving my friends and telling me to run.

  The guide led me into the forest, away from the screaming, the flames, the sounds of my camp being destroyed. I saw flashes of resistance on the way out, someone unleashing a fire spell, magic illuminating the pre-dawn darkness before being overwhelmed. John's voice shouting orders, trying to organize a defense that was already lost. Each step felt like betrayal. Each step took me further from people I could have saved.

  Each step kept me alive.

  * * *

  We walked for hours in silence through forest that grew denser and stranger the farther we went from camp. The trees here were massive, their trunks ridged with veins of bioluminescent sap that pulsed in slow rhythms. The undergrowth was waist-high in places, silvery ferns and plants with leaves the color of old bruises. Both suns climbed overhead but barely penetrated the canopy, leaving us in a perpetual amber twilight that smelled of mineral-rich soil and something sweet and rotting.

  I used Data Integration through Byte to map our route automatically, the mechanical process giving my mind something to focus on besides the images burned into my memory.

  Billy's vacant eyes. Felix being dragged away. Elara falling.

  Eventually, the guide led me to a secluded cave, its entrance hidden by overgrown foliage. With a gesture, they conjured a small fire and materialized two carved stumps for seating.

  "Sit," they said, not unkindly. "You're in shock. You need to process before we talk."

  I sat because my legs wouldn't hold me anymore. Byte curled up in my lap, his mechanical purr trying to offer comfort. Tears came then, hot, angry, helpless tears for people I'd known for less than a week but who'd become my world.

  The guide waited, their spectral form flickering in the firelight.

  Finally, when the tears slowed, I looked up. "Talk. You promised explanations."

  "I am Abzx," they began, their voice resonating in my mind with somber clarity. "I am a Custodian, and I oversee this tutorial dimension. What you've experienced, the integration, the system, the tutorial, it's all part of a process created by beings called Paragons who govern the multiverse."

  "The creature," I interrupted. "The one that killed that scout. What was it?"

  Abzx's form flickered with what might have been discomfort. "A Fleshgrin. A native predator of this world. They stalk prey for days, sometimes weeks, feeding on fear. Every nightmare, every moment of dread your camp felt over the past few days, it was feeding. Growing stronger. When it's consumed enough fear, it drains what's left and feeds on the body."

  The scout's vacant eyes. No visible wounds. It drained her dry.

  "Was it working with the raiders?"

  "No. Fleshgrins are solitary predators. They don't cooperate with anything." Abzx paused. "But fear draws predators. Your camp was terrified, and that attracted both the Fleshgrin and the raiders independently. Terrible timing. Nothing more."

  "Why save me?" I asked. "Specifically me, not the others."

  Abzx sat on the opposite stump, their form settling into something almost solid. "Because you're a Technomancer. The first in fifteen eras."

  They let that sink in before continuing.

  "Paragons are ascended beings who've reached the pinnacle of power. They govern the multiverse through a hierarchy, major Paragons overseeing vast expanses, minor Paragons managing local realms. They progress by gathering followers. Each being who associates with a Paragon gives a fraction of their power back to that Paragon. The stronger the followers, the stronger the Paragon becomes."

  I frowned. "Why would anyone swear loyalty to them?"

  "Because power flows both ways. Paragon blessings grant buffs far beyond what items alone can provide. There are guilds, exclusive perks, protection. And many beings simply want to be part of something greater than themselves." Abzx paused. "Not all Paragons are benevolent, but not all are malevolent either."

  "What does this have to do with Technomancers?"

  "Samantha, the first Technomancer and a major Paragon," Abzx began. "She pioneered the first integration, merging physical and digital realities. Her innovations laid the groundwork for how the multiverse functions today."

  "Was?"

  "She and all other Technomancers disappeared fifteen eras ago. Vanished without trace or explanation. Their disappearance created a power vacuum that we still navigate today." Abzx's voice carried genuine grief. "And my race, the Custodians, has been dying ever since."

  "I don't understand."

  "We were created by Samantha. We are, essentially, living AI given form and consciousness through technomagical means. Without a Technomancer to maintain our core code, we cannot reproduce. We cannot repair the degradation that accumulates in our systems over time." Abzx gestured to their flickering form. "This instability you see, it's Code Decay. Eventually, it leads to decommissioning. My entire race is slowly dying, and we cannot stop it."

  The weight of that settled over me. An entire species, slowly going extinct because their creator disappeared.

  "That's why you saved me," I said quietly. "You need a Technomancer. Any Technomancer."

  "Yes. But also..." Abzx hesitated. "There are Paragons who benefited from Samantha's disappearance. Who gained power, territory, followers in the vacuum she left. They have no incentive to see another Technomancer rise. Some would actively work to eliminate the threat you represent."

  "The raiders. You said Paragons were watching them."

  "Yes. If you'd been captured, word would spread. A bidding war would ensue for your elimination."

  I felt cold despite the fire. "So I'm valuable and a target. Great combination."

  Something clicked. "The tutorial store. When it opened yesterday, it had Technomancer schematics. Communication arrays, mana storage devices, a prosthetic framework. If there are no other Technomancers, why would the shop stock items for my class?"

  Abzx's form flickered violently, their composure cracking for the first time. "The shop stocked Technomancer schematics?"

  "Yes. Is that not normal?"

  "The system generates shop inventories dynamically based on the classes present in each tutorial instance. If Technomancer items appeared in your shop, it means the system detected your class and built a catalog to match." Abzx's voice had gone tight, strained. "Which means the system has now broadcast, to anyone with access to tutorial data, that a Technomancer exists in this instance."

  The implications hit me like a fist. "The Paragons. They can see shop data?"

  "Not directly. But there are intermediaries. Information brokers. Beings who monitor tutorial outputs for anomalies." Abzx rose from the stump, pacing, their form leaving faint trails of light in the air. "A Technomancer class appearing in a shop manifest after fifteen eras of absence would be the single biggest anomaly in living memory. If it hasn't been flagged already, it will be soon."

  "So the shop just painted a target on my back."

  "I'm afraid so. And I cannot remove the listing without drawing even more attention." Abzx stopped pacing, their flickering eyes meeting mine. "This is why speed matters. Every day you spend in this tutorial is another day for that information to reach the wrong ears."

  "I'm breaking every rule by helping you," Abzx continued. "If I'm discovered, I'll be decommissioned immediately. But my race is dying regardless. If there's even a chance you could grow strong enough to help us, to restore what Samantha built..." They trailed off. "It's worth the risk."

  I sat with that for a long moment. The pressure of it, an entire species' survival potentially resting on me someday, felt crushing. And now, thanks to a dynamically generated shop, anyone paying attention knew I was here.

  "What if I can't?" I whispered. "What if I'm not strong enough? What if I fail?"

  "Then we die, and you die, and the multiverse continues without us." Abzx's voice was surprisingly gentle. "But you might succeed. The system chose you for the Technomancer class for a reason. Samantha herself may have set criteria that led to your selection. You have potential."

  "Potential," I echoed bitterly. "My friends are captured or dead because of my 'potential.'"

  "Your friends are captured because raiders attacked your camp. That's not your fault." Abzx leaned forward. "But if you grow strong enough, fast enough, you could save them. You could build something better than what exists now."

  "How? I'm Level 7. I saw their levels during the attack. Fifteens, eighteens. I can't fight them."

  "Not yet," Abzx agreed. "But there are other camps, other initiates. Allies you could find. Resources you could gather. Skills you could learn." They paused. "There's even a class change globe hidden in this cave, if you truly believe Technomancer isn't the right path."

  I looked up sharply. "You'd let me change classes? After everything you just said?"

  "I would rather you survive and change classes than die clinging to a title." Abzx's form flickered. "But I hope you won't. Because you're the only chance we have."

  I thought about it. Really thought about it. Changing classes might make me safer. Might let me blend in, avoid attention.

  But it would also mean giving up the skills I'd learned, the progress I'd made. It would mean abandoning Byte, who was built specifically for Technomancers. It would mean letting an entire species die.

  "No," I said finally. "I'm keeping my class. I'll learn, I'll grow, and maybe, just maybe, I'll figure out how to fix this mess."

  Abzx's form stabilized, flickering less. As if my resolve had given them strength.

  "What do I do now?" I asked. "Just hide here?"

  "For a few days, yes. Let the raiders move on. They'll take their captives to their main camp, but they won't stay in this area long. Once they're gone, you can start moving, searching for other survivors or camps." Abzx stood. "I've left supplies in the back of the cave, food, water, basic materials. Enough to last a week."

  "You're leaving?"

  "I must return before my absence is noted. But I'll try to check on you when I can, subtly. And Maura?" They paused at the cave entrance. "Your communication hub, the base station you built. It's brilliant work. Keep building. Keep creating. That's how Technomancers change the world. Not through combat, but through innovation."

  With that, Abzx disappeared, leaving me alone in a cave with a robotic companion and the weight of a dying race on my shoulders.

  I sat by the fire as dawn broke outside, Byte purring in my lap, and thought about what came next.

  Felix was captured. Corwin too. I hadn't seen Jackie among the prisoners dragged from the hospital tent, but that didn't mean she was safe. Elara was dead. Billy was dead. The camp I'd helped build was destroyed.

  But I was alive. I had my class, my skills, my knowledge.

  And I had a goal now.

  Survive. Grow stronger. Find allies.

  And eventually, somehow, save the people who'd become my family.

  I pulled up my HUD, checking what I'd missed in the chaos. Several notifications waited:

  Level Up!

  Level 8 Technomancer

  A level-up notification, accumulated from the night's chaos. Surviving a raid, watching friends die, fleeing through a war zone. The system turned all that trauma into numbers.

  Free Points: 2

  I allocated both to Intelligence without hesitation. If I was going to outthink stronger opponents, I needed every advantage.

  Intelligence: 21

  The knowledge surge that came with it was immediate, Data Integration showing me patterns I'd missed before, connections between magical theory and technological application clicking into place.

  I also had a quest update:

  Technomancer's Trial: 1/5 prototypes

  The communication hub still counted. Good. At least that progress wasn't lost.

  And one more notification, highlighted in red:

  New Quest: Rescue Mission

  Objective: Locate and rescue captured allies from raider camp Reward: ??? Time Limit: 24 days

  The system itself was pushing me toward rescue. Whether that was encouragement or a cruel reminder of my current weakness, I didn't know.

  But it gave me something to work toward.

  I looked at Byte, his LED eyes reflecting the firelight. "Just you and me now, buddy. Think we can pull this off?"

  He beeped confidently.

  "Yeah," I said, trying to believe it. "Me too."

  Outside, the smaller sun was already climbing, its amber light filtering through the cave entrance and catching the iridescent moss that clung to the rock walls. The alien forest stretched in every direction, impossibly vast, its canopy a shifting palette of indigo and deep green under the brightening purple sky. Nothing about this world looked like home. Nothing about it felt like home.

  But somewhere out there, my friends were prisoners. Somewhere out there, raiders were celebrating their victory.

  And somewhere out there, I'd find a way to become strong enough to matter.

  I had twenty-four days. The timer matched the remaining tutorial days almost exactly.

  Time to get started.