Surviving the Simulation: The Grand Crusade

Xander scanned the hotel lobby again, eyes tracing over the aftermath of chaos etched into every wall, surface, and furnishing. The double glass doors stood twisted and bent inward, frames hanging loosely on shattered hinges, their glass fragments scattered across the worn linoleum floor like ice shards glinting under the dim sunlight seeping through cracked windows. Threadbare carpet stretched haphazardly across the lobby's center, its once-rich fabric shredded into strips, revealing the bare, grimy floor beneath. Every piece of furniture looked as if it had been violently hurled aside. Broken chairs overturned, tables splintered and stacked into desperate barricades, forming a silent testament to the chaos that had gripped this place during the Simulation's brutal reboot.

His eyes traveled upward, following deep gouges that scarred the faded wallpaper. Claw marks, unmistakable in their savagery, climbed high on the walls, speaking to desperate attempts to escape or attack. The air itself felt heavy, stale, and pungent with the sharp tang of sanitizers used by the hotel cleaning staff that had been going about their day as normal hours earlier, a clinical scent struggling in vain against the underlying mustiness of decay and abandonment. The oppressive stillness of the room pressed against Xander's mind, heightening every nerve, every instinct, warning him that danger was far from over.

He glanced toward Zoey and Alex, positioned carefully nearby, their eyes wary as they kept watch over the lobby's shadowed doorways. They hadn't been here long, yet tension already permeated the surrounding air. Every second spent waiting amplified Xander's unease, his thoughts circling relentlessly around the crucial importance of their mission. If they failed here the safe zone quest would fail and that would be game over for the survivors.

The sound of boots crunching on glass pulled Xander's attention back to the entrance. Harvey stepped cautiously through the shattered remains of the doorway, expression grim beneath dark brows. His two surviving teammates filed in after him, each visibly alert. One held a sword and shield ready at his side, a poised defensive posture marked by cautious readiness; the other, wiry and agile, carried a short sword paired with a dagger, sharp eyes sweeping every shadow and corner, assessing potential threats.

Two new figures followed quietly, a younger couple Xander hadn't met yet. The husband moved with careful, almost hesitant strides, his sword and shield carried like a heavy responsibility rather than a weapon of choice. His eyes darted nervously around the damaged lobby, uncertainty clear in every hesitant glance and movement. The wife lingered closely behind him, clutching a crossbow tightly against her chest. Her posture betrayed nerves, but determination glinted behind worried eyes as she adjusted the strap of an oversized bag slung across her shoulder. From within came the faint clinking of glass bottles containing improvised Molotov cocktails, Xander guessed.

Harvey's gaze settled on Xander, grief clearly etched in the lines around his eyes and the tight set of his jaw. Xander recognized the look immediately. It was the haunting look of loss, fresh and painful, that was impossible to hide, no matter how tough someone tried to appear.

"Glad you made it," Xander said. "Everyone accounted for?"

Harvey gave a curt nod, gesturing toward the husband and wife. "These two came in off the highway after we'd already headed out last time. Figured the more, the merrier."

Xander studied the newcomers briefly again, gauging their demeanor. It was a willingness mixed with uncertainty, courage tempered by caution. They would do for now. After all, they needed every capable hand they could get.

"Good call," he replied. "We'll need everyone if this goes sideways."

Harvey nodded once more, then dropped a heavy pack to the lobby floor and swiftly began pulling out salvaged gear. Xander recognized the reinforced body armor from their earlier auto shop run as the items emerged. Harvey passed these armored vests quickly and efficiently toward the team's other front-line fighters. The fighters accepted the armor without comment, fastening straps and checking fittings quickly, the additional protection offering at least some measure of reassurance in the face of unknown dangers.

Next, Harvey then produced small first-aid kits, handing them quietly around. Each teammate stowed theirs swiftly, movements silent but appreciative. Harvey didn't linger on the items, nor offer unnecessary words; everyone understood precisely what the healing kits implied. Things could and likely would get ugly. Based on what Xander had seen in the makeshift supply area, JT had held nothing back when stocking up Harvey for this job.

Xander adjusted his own previously obtained armor vest, ensuring it remained snug and secure, then turned his gaze once again to the corridor beyond the devastated lobby. Darkness loomed ahead, deeper inside the hotel. It was a place they knew was dangerous, a place already stained by the blood and loss of Harvey's previous attempt. He glanced at Harvey again, catching the faint tightening around the man's eyes, the slight flex of his jaw muscles. Loss wasn't something easily shaken; grief lingered in the slight gestures and quiet moments, a constant shadow companion.

Taking a slow step forward, Xander briefly took stock of the assembled group. "Okay," he said decisively, voice steady despite the internal turmoil, "we'll wait until we've got proper intel before we finalize a strategy. Alex will scout shortly, but everyone stays alert. No assumptions, no heroics. This place could still have surprises."

Heads nodded quietly, eyes narrowing, postures straightening subtly as the team started . No one spoke further, the weight of the moment settling fully over them all. It was clear each person understood the stakes. They had to succeed here, in this ruined, dangerous place, or their entire safe zone, their refuge, would fall.

The deeper they moved into the hotel, the heavier the silence became. The wreckage in the lobby had been bad enough but here, in the hallways leading deeper into the building, it was worse. This was where the previous attempt to clear the hotel had failed. Where Harvey's people had died. Where something had forced a retreat.

Xander's eyes swept over the wreckage, cataloging it with the cold efficiency of someone who had seen enough ruined places to recognize the signs. Gouges in the drywall where claws had torn deep. The remains of a barricade at the far end of the hall, built from tables and chairs that had been hastily stacked to block pursuit, only to be torn through with brute force.

He wasn't the only one noticing. Harvey had barely said a word since stepping inside, but his posture had stiffened, his attention drawn toward every spot where his people had tried to make a stand. Xander didn't comment.

The team advanced in near silence, every step slow, cautious. The only sound was the occasional scrape of a boot against the tile, the creak of shifting weight on weakened floorboards. They all knew what was coming. Alex moved near the front, keeping low, his steps light. Then Alex froze and his hand shot up, fingers splayed to signal everyone to stop.

Xander stopped immediately, and so did the rest of the team. Alex didn't move, didn't speak. His head tilted slightly, eyes fixed on something near the ground.

Xander followed his gaze.

A thin wire stretched across the width of the hallway, barely visible in the dim light. The wire's low position made it easy to overlook for anyone checking corners or the ceiling. Just stepping forward would have been enough to trigger it.

Alex exhaled slowly, his movements careful as he traced the wire to its source. A simple but effective mechanism. Tension held back a set of sharpened metal spikes, mounted along the wall at an angle. The moment the wire was pulled, the tension would release, and the spikes would swing out, impaling anyone in the lead.

"Those weren't here before," one of Harvey's teammates muttered, voice low.

Harvey's team had fought in this exact spot before. They had barely made it out. But there had been no traps last time.

No one spoke for a moment.

It made sense. The rodentia hadn't pursued them because they hadn't needed to. They had stayed inside, reinforcing their position. They weren't just holding this ground, but they were fortifying it. Which meant that the longer this fight took, the worse their situation would become.

Xander met Alex's eyes, gave a single nod. Alex moved carefully, crouching near the trap, working with steady hands. The mechanism was crude but functional. He could disarm it. A few quiet, precise movements, and the tension eased, the spikes relaxing back into place, the wire now harmless.

Xander turned to the group. "Alex goes ahead. We move slower."

No one argued.

Xander watched as Alex slipped forward, careful, methodical, the shadows swallowing him as he moved deeper into the corridor.

Then, with a last glance toward the disabled trap, Xander motioned the rest of the team forward. The team moved forward in measured steps, their pace deliberate as they followed the path Alex had scouted ahead. Soon they say the evidence of Alex's work in the disarmed traps left in his wake. They were crude but effective, each one reinforcing just how much worse this fight could have gone if they had rushed in blind.

Xander noted the remnants of a tripwire near a shattered doorframe, the frayed wire still dangling where Alex had clipped it. Another section of the hallway had a partially collapsed barricade, its structure compromised after Alex had carefully removed a pressure plate hidden beneath a toppled chair. The rodentia hadn't wasted time reinforcing their position. If the group didn't deal with them now, this would only become more dangerous.

The hallway turned sharply, and as Xander stepped past the threshold, he recognized the shift in atmosphere before he even saw it. Harvey and his remaining teammates' steps because less focused, their movements less about caution and more about something unspoken settling between them.

Then Xander saw why.

Scattered along the cracked tile floor lay the remnants of a failed rescue. Used bandages, torn gauze, and empty medical wrappers littered the space in careless disarray. A dark smear of blood stretched toward the wall where a torn piece of fabric that was once part of someone's sleeve rested limply against the baseboard. The sight said everything that didn't need to be spoken.

This was where Harvey's team had stopped and attempted to save one of their own.

Xander felt the shift in Harvey immediately. The man had been quiet the whole way in, focused, determined, his grief kept in check beneath the weight of the mission. But now, standing here, the barrier he'd been holding in place faltered.

Zoey, ever the one to keep spirits up, spoke first.

"You did everything they could," she said softly. "At least he wasn't alone."

It was meant to be comforting. Instead, it landed like a gut punch.

Harvey's entire body went rigid. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his jaw tightening. His turn revealed something sharper in his already raw expression.

"You think that helps?" He spat back. "You think knowing he died right here on this damn floor makes it better?"

Zoey's mouth opened, but no words came out.

Xander stepped in before the moment could spiral.

"Harvey," he said, "I know."

Harvey's attention snapped to him, the weight of his grief and frustration shifting.

Xander didn't try to say the right thing. There was no right thing.

"It's not fair," he continued. "And we both know nothing we say right now is going to change that."

The tension in Harvey's shoulders remained, but the sharpness in his gaze dulled just slightly. His hands stayed clenched for a moment longer before he exhaled sharply, forcing himself to step back from the edge of his emotions.

"Yeah," Harvey muttered, running a hand over his face. "Yeah. I get it."

He glanced at Zoey, his expression still tight but lacking the heat from before. "Sorry. I know you were just trying to help. It's… still a raw nerve."

Zoey gave a small nod, the usual lightness in her expression subdued. "I get it."

A sound from further down the hallway drew their attention, and a moment later, Alex emerged from the shadows, and from the look on his face, he had something to say.

Alex rejoined the group, moving quickly but without his usual cocky stride. His shoulders were tense, his movements sharp and purposeful, but there was something else beneath it. Something Xander caught immediately. Rattled, but holding it together.

It had been easy to forget, in the chaos of the last few hours, that none of them were soldiers. They were survivors, forced into a fight they'd never trained for. The longer they spent in this place, the clearer it became just how much the odds were stacked against them.

Alex stopped in the dimly lit corridor, glancing over his shoulder like he expected something to come crawling out of the dark behind him. He gave the group a quick once-over, then let out a sharp breath.

"It's worse than we thought," he said. "There are more in there than are supposed to be and when I analyzed them, they had classes."

"Classes?" Zoey asked. "Well, I suppose that makes sense. The Simulation notice said that we'd get classes at level five. Guess, that rule doesn't apply to monsters."

Xander's pulse kicked up a notch, but he kept his voice steady. "How bad?"

"Seven total. The Cleric's still there, but now there's a second engineer, an apprentice or something, working alongside the first one. They've built barricades, and I saw something in the back. Some kind of ballista. No idea if it's functional, but if it is, that thing could turn us into pincushions before we even reach them."

If classes worked like they do in the video games Xander had played, then these monsters were probably going to be exponentially hard than the ones without. The Cleric was already a problem. Now they had additional fortifications and ranged weapons in play.

Harvey stood a few steps away as he collected himself from his earlier outburst, his posture tight, his expression unreadable. But when he spoke, his voice carried the sharp edge of frustration barely held in check.

"That wasn't there last time. None of this was." He said. "Hell, there weren't this many of them last time, either."

Xander frowned. That was wrong. The rodentia hadn't pursued Harvey's group before. If anything, they'd let them escape. But if more of them were here now.

"They're reinforcing," he said. "Which makes sense. But if the numbers are increasing…" He trailed off, a realization settling over him like a lead weight. "Shit. What if this isn't just them holed up? What if more of them are spawning over time?"

The group went still.

"So, what, we're on a timer now?" Zoey questioned.

"Well, we were always on a timer since this needs done before nightfall or we're screwed. Now it's just a little more urgent," Xander admitted. He didn't like saying it out loud, but ignoring the possibility was worse. "If we wait too long, we might be dealing with an even bigger force. The rodentia are acting like they know they need to hold this place, which means if we don't take them out now, we're probably never going to get another chance."

Harvey let out a slow breath through his nose. Then, finally, he said, "Then we end this. But we need to rethink the plan."

The group huddled together, speaking in hushed tones despite the silence pressing in from all sides. The hotel was dead quiet, but none of them trusted it to stay that way.

"We're still going for the Cleric first, right?" Alex asked.

"Yeah," Xander said. "But the Engineers are a problem now. If they're the ones setting up all the traps, they're smart. Smarter than we thought."

Alex nodded toward the other rogue. "We can get in close. If we take the Cleric out before the fight even starts, that's a game-changer."

"And if you can't?" Harvey countered. "Last time, that thing paralyzed half my people in seconds. If it gets off another spell, this fight's over before it starts."

Xander clenched his jaw. Harvey wasn't wrong. They didn't know what the Cleric was fully capable of. Even if Alex and the rogue got close, there was no guarantee they'd finish the job before it cast something nasty.

"We need to lock it down," Xander said. "Even if you two can't kill it outright, buy us enough time to get in and put it down before it can react."

A beat of silence. Then the fighter from Harvey's group spoke up. "What about the ballista?"

"If that thing works, it'll skewer half of us before we even reach them," the fighter continued.

Xander had really been hoping that someone wouldn't bring up the ballista. He didn't want to count on wishful thinking, but he prayed the thing wasn't operational. It was the project manager's defense mechanism that rarely worked out. Ignore the issue and the bad thing won't happen.

"We focus on speed," Xander said. "The longer we wait, the more they fortify. We hit fast, hit hard, and don't give them time to set up."

The words were confident. He wished he felt them.

"That's a lot of moving parts," the wife from the husband-and-wife duo said. She'd been quiet until now, but now she shifted, adjusting the strap of her bag. "We still have the Molotovs."

The group hesitated.

"They could work," Zoey said. "But indoors?"

Xander didn't like the idea of setting the ballroom on fire. At best, they'd take out some of the rodentia. At worst, they'd block their own exits and turn this into a death trap.

"They're a last resort," he decided. "If things go to shit, use them. But we don't want to be the ones who burn ourselves alive."

The wife gave a slow nod. Everyone knew the plan and their roles in it. And yet, no one moved.

Xander could feel it. That weight, that unspoken hesitation. It wasn't fear. Fear was easy to understand. It was something deeper, heavier. Doubt. Uncertainty. That last moment before you committed to something you couldn't take back.

They weren't soldiers or possessed training for this. No one had training for this. They had a plan, sure, but execution was something else entirely.

Harvey adjusted the grip on his hammer, glaring toward the hallway leading to the ballroom. "We doing this or what?"

Xander nodded, shoving aside his own doubt.

"Let's move."

In theory, it had been a solid plan. Attack from three sides, strike hard and fast, overwhelm the enemy before they could react, and take out the Cleric first, eliminating the biggest threat before the proper fight could even begin.

In reality, the moment Alex's foot tangled in the mess of DJ cords behind the booth, sending a freestanding spotlight toppling over, the entire plan unraveled in an instant.

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The crash was deafening, the sound of glass shattering and metal colliding against tile splitting through the ballroom like a gunshot, its echoes ricocheting off the vaulted ceiling. For a single breath, there was only the suspended weight of realization as every rodentia in the room turned toward the source of the noise.

Confusion flickered across their features, a momentary lapse as their battle-ready minds struggled to comprehend the unexpected disturbance. But hesitation was fleeting, and instinct took over in a heartbeat.

With a guttural bark, the rodentia fighter shifted its thickly muscled frame into a defensive stance, sword raised, eyes scanning for immediate threats. The Engineer was already moving, bolting toward Xander. The cleric hesitated only a second before retreating a step; its clawed fingers twitched toward the silver emblem at its waist as it appeared to surround itself with some type of magical shield.

But it was the Apprentice Engineer's reaction that sent a jolt of dread through Xander's gut.

While the others reacted defensively, the Apprentice did not hesitate, did not stop to consider the battle unfolding around it. Instead, it broke into a full sprint straight for the large crossbow turret mounted at the far end of the ballroom.

For the first time, Xander got a good look at the weapon they had mistakenly called a ballista, and now, up close, he saw just how wrong they had been. The weapon was no crude siege engine, no slow-loading, cumbersome ballista requiring careful preparation between each shot. Instead, they bolted the massive crossbow to a reinforced metal frame, reinforcing its firing mechanism with thick plates of salvaged steel. A chain-fed loading system ran along its side, automatically feeding and locking bolts into place as the string drew back.

This wasn't some primitive war machine. It was a rapid-fire crossbow, a mechanized turret designed to launch devastating shots repeatedly with lethal precision. And the Apprentice Engineer was about to use it.

Xander shouted a warning, but the chaos drowned out his words as the Apprentice reached the turret and slammed its fist onto the firing lever. With a sharp, mechanical snap, the weapon released its first bolt, sending it slicing through the air with deadly force.

The shot barely missed as it went whistling past Alex's head and embedding itself deep into the wooden support beam just behind him. A solid inch to the right, and it would have punched through his skull.

The Apprentice let out a sharp chittering sound. Its clawed fingers adjusted the mechanism, the next bolt sliding seamlessly into place, ready to fire again.

Xander's mind raced. They had seconds before that thing started cutting them down.

The Rodentia Engineer had already broken into a run toward Xander. While the Cleric, stalked toward the intruders in the DJ booth. At the same time, three rodentia Grunts and fighter, their wiry frames rippling with barely contained aggression, broke into a sprint, claws scraping against the tile as they charged toward the main doors where the rest of the team had burst into the room.

Everything was unraveling too fast.

Xander scanned the battlefield, desperate for something, anything, that could shift the momentum back into their favor, but there was nothing to salvage. The plan had crumbled before it could even begin, and now there was no strategy left, no tactical precision to guide them.

The ballroom had become a storm of clashing steel, snarling enemies, and the deafening thrum of the turret firing bolt after bolt into the chaos. The team was holding their ground, but just barely.

Harvey and two frontline fighters fought a brutal melee against the Rodentia Fighter and two Grunts, their weapons ringing as swords and shields met in savage strikes. The body armor salvaged from auto-shop was doing its job, absorbing the worst of the hits, but it couldn't protect everything. Gashes opened on arms and legs as claws raked across exposed flesh, and Xander caught flashes of red-streaked fabric as his allies struggled to maintain their footing.

A third grunt lunged toward the archers, forcing Zoey to reposition. This also forced her and the wife of the pair from the interstate to move back, their shots coming less frequently as they constantly adjusted to avoid being overwhelmed.

Xander had no time to coordinate with the rest of the group before the Rodentia Engineer was upon him, swinging wildly with a heavy, wrench-like tool, its movements erratic but dangerously precise.

Xander deflected the first strike, but the unexpected weight of the weapon nearly sent his stance off-balance. He barely had time to recover before the Engineer lashed out again, twisting its weapon mid-swing to catch him off guard. He twisted away just in time, but the Engineer pressed forward, using its tools as brutal melee weapons, its intelligence showing in every calculated attack.

Across the room, the Apprentice Engineer was fully manning the turret now, feeding bolts into the rapid-fire mechanism, sending a near-constant barrage toward the fight. The massive crossbow loosed another shot, striking a metal barricade just inches from one of the melee fighters, sending shards of splintered wood and rusted debris scattering across the floor.

The wife had put some distance between herself and the grunt that had been harassing her and Zoey. With the grunt focused on Zoey, she had taken up a firing position again, her crossbow aimed at the Apprentice, but the turret's placement made for a tough shot. She loosed an arrow, but it clanged off the reinforced plating around the crossbow mount, missing her mark entirely.

She cursed under her breath, quickly loading another shot and firing again, but the Apprentice was constantly shifting behind the weapon, its movements erratic, anticipating her aim. This time, she overshot entirely, the arrow vanishing into the darkness beyond the battlefield.

Xander caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, saw the way she suddenly stopped, exhaled, and made a decision.

Her hands moved fast, slinging the crossbow over her shoulder and reaching into her makeshift satchel. Glass clinked together as she pulled a Molotov cocktail free, its liquid sloshing inside as she gripped it tight.

Xander's stomach dropped.

She didn't hesitate. She pivoted toward the nearest wall-mounted torch, bringing the ragged fuse close until the flames caught, the fire crawling hungrily up the fabric as she threw it.

The glass shattered against the floor near the turret, igniting instantly. Flames surged up the legs of the crossbow mount, licking at the crude mechanisms, spreading outward along the dry wood and debris stacked nearby. The Apprentice Engineer shrieked as fire engulfed its body, its panicked flailing only feeding the flames as they climbed higher, consuming fur, fabric, and flesh alike.

The turret was gone. But so was part of the battlefield.

Heat pulsed through the room as the fire spread, not quickly, but enough to cut off the far corner of the space, pushing the battle inward. Xander barely had time to process it before another clash of steel pulled him back into the fight.

Xander barely registered Alex's shout before his eyes locked onto the stage. The Cleric loomed over Alex's rogue partner, its clawed foot pressing down hard on the rogue's face, its thick tail coiled tight around their throat. The struggling rogue kicked and thrashed, but their movements were growing sluggish, the fight draining out of them with every second.

Xander saw the problem instantly, but no one was close enough to help. A grunt locked Zoey in, Harvey's group still fought off grunts and a fighter, and Alex sprawled out on the floor where the cleric had tossed him. If Xander didn't act now, the rogue was dead.

There was no time to think, no time to reposition. He made the only move he could.

Xander twisted away from another wild swing of the Engineer's tool, knowing full well that turning his back was a death sentence, but there was no other choice. He stepped back, shifted his weight, and hurled his spear at the Cleric as hard as he could.

The moment he released, pain bloomed across his chest. A sharp, burning sensation as the Engineer's weapon sliced across him, exploiting the opening he'd left behind. The price of his gamble.

But he didn't have time to care.

The spear found its mark, tearing through the Cleric's magical shield, the weakened barrier cracking apart in jagged streaks of violet light. The weapon punched into the Cleric's side, just beneath its raised arm, the force of the throw driving it deep until the crossbar of the spear slammed against its ribs, stopping only when it had buried itself to the shaft.

The Cleric staggered back, its tail loosening from the rogue's throat, its grip on their skull going slack. It coughed, blood flecking its muzzle, but it didn't collapse. Not yet.

Instead, its clawed hands twitched, trembling as it reached toward the wound, grasping at the spear as if trying to pull it free. But then, its fingers curled inward, energy crackling along its palms, tendrils of dark magic weaving over the wound, pulling the torn flesh back together as if willing itself to heal.

Xander's gut clenched.

It was casting.

He had no idea what kind of spell, but he could see the effect immediately. The torn flesh around the spear's entry point began to close, muscle stitching itself back together, dark tendrils of magic weaving through the wound in an attempt to pull it shut. For a second, it almost looked like it was working.

Then the magic flickered. The glow in the Cleric's hands stuttered, its own blood interfering with the spellwork, the magic sputtering out like a dying flame.

Its hands dropped, fingers curling weakly, its legs buckling beneath it. A final rasping breath left its throat, half-formed words of a spell that would never finish.

Then, at last, it collapsed. That was the turning point.

Harvey's team had already gained an advantage by eliminating one of the grunts. This left them fighting a three on two battle.

Seconds after the Cleric dropped, the last gnoll harassing the archers stiffened, two arrows jutting from its chest like crude decorations. Xander caught a glimpse of Zoey lowering her bow. The gnoll toppled without a sound, crumpling onto the tile.

The Engineer stood alone amid the chaos, just beyond the smoke-choked remains of its ruined turret. It hadn't moved. Its ears twitched, chest heaving. Xander couldn't hear it over the crackle of fire, but he could see the tension in its shoulders, the bared teeth, the way it tracked the battlefield with cold calculation. It seemed to be sizing things up, or maybe coming to terms with what had just happened.

Xander felt its gaze lock on him. The weight of that stare, sudden and sharp. The gnoll's eyes narrowed, and in that moment, he knew. It had seen who had brought down its commander. Who had shifted the tide of the fight.

It moved faster than Xander expected, crossing the small space between them in an instant, its wrench-like tool swinging in a brutal overhead arc. Xander tried to sidestep, but exhaustion and the gash on his chest from earlier dulled his reactions. The weapon caught his side with a glancing blow, pain flaring as it clipped his ribs, knocking him off balance.

He hit the ground hard, barely rolling in time to avoid the next swing, which crashed into the tile where his head had been a second earlier, splintering the floor.

Springing back to his feet, Xander's hand flew to his belt for his survival knife. The last line of defense. He tore it free just as the Engineer bore down on him, its jagged-toothed snarl twisting into something almost triumphant. Xander barely got the blade up in time.

The Engineer's next attack came low, its tool swinging in a sweeping arc, but Xander twisted his knife downward, deflecting the strike just enough to keep it from crushing his arm. It wasn't a clean block as the impact jarred his wrist, sending a spike of pain up to his elbow.

The Engineer didn't relent. It lashed out with a clawed foot, kicking Xander in the leg, trying to break his stance. Xander staggered, nearly lost his footing yet again. He drove his knife in a quick, brutal jab, aiming for the creature's side.

The blade sank in shallow, just enough to cut flesh but not deep enough to do actual damage. The Engineer hissed and recoiled, but only for a fraction of a second before it was back on him, pressing the attack.

Xander was running out of ground. Running out of options. The Engineer was going to kill him.

Then, a sudden shout from behind.

The Engineer's ears twitched, its posture shifting. It knew backup was coming. If it didn't finish Xander now, it wouldn't get another chance.

With a final snarling screech, it dropped its weapon and reached into a side pouch, yanking free something small, metal, and jagged, a hastily cobbled-together contraption filled with sludgy, volatile liquid sloshing inside a reinforced glass casing.

The Engineer raised the device high, preparing to slam it down and let the contents spray in all directions.

Xander didn't think, he just reacted as he lunged, slamming his knife upward, catching the Engineer's wrist just as it tried to bring the device down. The impact wrenched its grip, sending the bomb flying, tumbling end over end across the ballroom floor.

For a moment, the fight wasn't just about the Engineer anymore. It was about the device. The Engineer let out a furious snarl, hesitating for the briefest moment as if deciding to go for Xander, or go for the bomb?

That second of indecision was all Xander needed as a shadow loomed over them both.

Harvey's hammer swung with bone-shattering force, slamming into the Engineer's ribs. The creature let out a shriek of agony, stumbling straight into the device that had just clattered across the floor.

Glass shattered beneath its weight.

A hiss of chemical reaction, followed by a sharp, acrid smell that burned the nostrils and eyes.

The Engineer screamed, thrashing violently as the corrosive liquid soaked through its armor, burning into flesh, eating through fur and muscle alike.

It staggered, convulsed, and then collapsed.

The smell of burning fur and melting flesh filled the air, a sickening contrast to the still-crackling fire in the ballroom's corner.

Xander's muscles burned, every limb a collection of aches layered on top of older bruises. His side throbbed from where the Engineer's wrench had clipped his ribs, his chest burned from the earlier slash, and his legs felt sluggish from the endless dodging, blocking, and fighting.

He exhaled sharply, shifting his shoulders, trying to ease the tension without making it worse. He could still move, still fight if he had to, but he was going to feel every single hit in the morning.

"Everyone okay?" Harvey's voice cut through the lingering quiet, rough and winded. He leaned heavily on his war hammer, using the weapon like a crutch, shoulders sagging beneath the weight of exhaustion.

"I think I'm going to need some stitches," Xander admitted, pressing a hand to his side and wincing as his fingers came away damp with blood. "But overall, I'll live."

"Looks like we'll all live," Alex said. "Barely. Thanks for the save."

"No worries."

The words felt hollow in his mouth. Because it had been a worry. The whole damn fight had been close, and standing here now, surrounded by scorched tile, fallen enemies, and the acrid scent of burnt fur and acid, the reality of it settled hard.

They'd won. But another inch to the left, and Alex's partner would've been crushed. Another second slower, and Xander wouldn't have stopped the Cleric. One bad move, and any of them could have been lying in a pool of their own blood. Xander had to smile to himself as he skimmed over his notifications. The fight had been enough to push him up to another level. Closing his notifications, he decided that he'd go over his status screen later. Although no immediate danger appeared present, Xander felt too many surprises had happened today and wanted to avoid distraction.

Level up! Congratulations, you are now level two. Go forth and defend the realms, mighty hunter. Warning: Due to the current level-zero protocols, class choice and ability points are deferred until level five. Actions taken between levels one and five will contribute toward the available class selection.

"Alright. Loot up. We're splitting everything in the room evenly. No bullshit." Harvey said, changing the direction of the conversation.

There was a pointed look at one of his teammates, the tank who had fought alongside him. The man raised his hands in a half-hearted surrender, shaking his head.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

Harvey didn't look convinced.

Xander took a step forward, eyeing the wreckage. Most of the bodies were still intact enough to loot, even if some were far beyond salvageable. There were weapons scattered across the floor, a few crude pieces of armor, and something that looked suspiciously like a belt lined with potion vials on one of the fallen Grunts.

Across the room, one of Harvey's teammates bent down, picking up a knife so small it looked like it belonged in a silverware drawer. They turned it over in their hands. "Seriously? Who the hell was this for?"

Xander let out a tired chuckle. "Maybe it was their emergency backup-backup weapon. You know, for when everything else fails."

"Damn shame it didn't work for 'em."

The moment of levity didn't last long.

Alex, who had been scanning the room, suddenly crouched near the far wall, brushing aside bits of charred wood and debris. His hands ran over the edges of something metal. Two metal chests tucked into the corner, partially hidden behind what had once been a stack of overturned tables.

Xander hadn't even noticed them in the fight's chaos, but now that he was looking, he saw them. They had thick, reinforced hinges, reinforced plates, no sign of rust or decay. Just like the chest they had found in the auto shop, these two weren't something from before the Simulation's reboot.

Alex ran his fingers along the seam of the first chest, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Yeah. Engineer had a hand in this. These things are trapped to hell and back."

"What kind of traps?"

"The kind that makes you question how much you really want what's inside." He pointed to a small, barely visible groove near the latch. "That's a spring-loaded needle trap. Probably poisoned. And I'd bet my left foot there's something tied to the hinges. Maybe an explosive, maybe just another way to get you with a blade the second you lift the lid."

"Shit," Harvey said.

"Think you can crack them?" Xander added.

Alex gave a crooked grin, already rolling his sleeves up. "Well, I've still got both my hands, so let's try to keep it that way. Everyone back up. If this goes bad, I don't want to be responsible for anyone else getting hurt."

Xander stepped back, watching as Alex pulled a set of delicate tools from his pouch and set to work.

As Alex worked, Xander let his gaze drift back over the room. The wreckage of the fight surrounded them, the walls marked with claw scratches, arrow shafts embedded in broken furniture, and the occasional scorch mark from the Molotov. Salvaging the auto-crossbow would have been a huge boon for Starlight's defenses but it was beyond saving. Nothing more than a pile of burn wood and parts.

Xander moved his attention to the body of the cleric laying nearby. He had seen magic at work earlier in the day, but standing here now, looking at the cleric, it was the first time they had seen a creature use magic. Just like the wizard out of some game. The knowledge that if that spell had worked, they might have all died here, put a new spin on things.

Magic was real, and he didn't want to be on the receiving end of it again. And if it came down to it, when he reached level five, would he have the choice to take it for himself?

Xander stood still for a moment, rewinding the entire battle in his mind to play it over again.

Throwing his spear had been the right call at the moment, but it had also been desperation, not strategy. He needed a backup weapon. Something he was proficient with, something that wouldn't leave him scrambling if a fight forced his hand again. Losing his only weapon mid-battle wasn't a mistake he could afford twice.

He took in the battlefield again as part of the replay in his mind. Discarded first-aid wrappers littered the floor, crumpled from rushed hands during the fight. He wasn't the only one burning through supplies at an alarming rate. They'd fought hard for this victory, but the cost had been real, and they weren't exactly swimming in backup resources.

Something to talk to Harvey and JT about later. If they weren't already aware, they needed to be.

A sharp metallic click broke through his thoughts.

"Boom," Alex said. "Nobody's dead, so I'm calling that a win."

"Alright. Somebody tell me this was worth it," Harvey said.

Before anyone could answer, the fighter from Harvey's group let out an exaggerated sigh, kicking over a fallen Rodentia grunt. "You know, for all the trouble these bastards gave us, I was really hoping for a pile of gold or some legendary gear. Not whatever rat-people keep in their pockets."

Zoey arched a brow, then bent down and picked something up off the floor. She turned, tossing a dented tin cup at the fighter's chest.

"There. Treasure."

They caught it one-handed, turning it over with mock reverence. "Ah, yes. The legendary Cup of Disappointment."

Harvey snorted. "I'm putting that right next to my collection of poor decisions."

"All right, team, we've got a bit of a haul on loot and some interesting decisions to make. First up, gold. It's twenty gold split for each person with five gold left over. Any issues if we donate that left over gold to JT for the safe zone?" Harvey called out as he finished up inventorying all the loot. "Speak now if you do. Once, twice, thrice, done. Left over gold goes to JT."

"I'm going to list out everything we found and then we'll determine who is taking what. That way, everyone has a chance to think about what they want before we start the horse trading. From the cleric, we ended up with a one handed mace of uncommon quality. It also appears to have some sort of slight enchantment but analyze says only its enchanted. So it's a coin toss if that's good or not. Moving on, there are six potions of light healing and a basic first aid kit. Last but not least, something called the Combat Medic's Field Guide," Harvey said, moving over to the next pile.

"Hold up. Do we know what the field guide does?" Zoey asked.

"Not specifically, but analyze say it details wounds and their treatment in battlefield conditions and that it's a single use consumable. Best guess is it's a skill book that teaches a skill," Harvey speculated. "There is another book that we'll get to in a moment that reads very similar, just for a different skill. Given the two data points, I think we're probably correct, but I don't think we want to test the theory until we decide who the best choice is to actually get the skill up if our theory is correct."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Keep going, Harvey, this is the best part of any encounter, the loot!" Alex said in a slightly greedy tone.

"The fighter and grunt's gear pretty straightforward. A two shields of common quality and no enchantments, sword of common quality and no enchantments. Basic first aid kit and steel bracers of common quality and no enchantments," Harvey continued.

"The engineer gear was beyond salvaging except for its principal weapon. A large wrench." Harvey explained, walking around the last pile. "Alex could get the chests open and between the two chests we ended up with another first aid kit, a pair of short swords of uncommon quality and an enchantment called 'keen edge' that increases their damage according to the tool tip. Also, a book named Masters of Innovation, a basic tool kit, and a key called a lock melter. Evidently, it's a skeleton key type item that works by melting the lock it's used on. Finally, a one handed war hammer that also increases someone's blacksmithing ability.

"I know everyone fought hard for what we got here and everyone deserves a cut. That being said, there really isn't a good even split eight ways on some of this. I'll open the floors to discussion."

Xander stood for a moment and walked to the front of the group, putting the loot between himself and the rest of the adventures before speaking.

"I'm sure everyone here has already figured out that we need to balance what is best for each of us individually, as well as what is best for everyone. 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one,' is complete crap. Those of us here that have fought and bleed for this are going to need to get stronger for the sake of the many. But we're also all aware how the divide between the haves and the have nots worked out over history, and that was before the stakes were cranked up to eleven. What I would like to recommend is that each of the three respective subgroups take one of the basic healing kits and two of the healing potions. We donate the engineering book and the smith's hammer to the safe zone, unless someone of this group has immediate need of them. Those two items are going to be something the safe zone needs while the first aid supplies are something we need. Shields go to our resident tanks here. You both did a fantastic job during that fight and I'm sure we would have probably lost one or two people if you guys hadn't done the job that you had. Any objections so far?" Xander queried.

There were a few faces in the crowd that looked like they wanted to be greedy with the loot, but in the end, even they could see that short-term survival was critical. There'd be plenty of time to get more loot, assuming they lived through the level-zero protocols.

"Great, from there we're left with the mace, healing book, skeleton key, tool kit, steel bracers, and pair of magic short swords. The other weapons are all pretty basic. I'd say we upgrade ourselves if there are upgrades and give the rest to JT. Short swords feel like one should go to each rogue and then you guys work out between you who should take the lock melter. Harvey, you take th4e bracers and I'll take the mace. No reasoning on that other than the tanks and rogues already get gear on this deal, and I'd like the mace as a backup weapon. That's an opinion loosely held by me, so feel free to disagree with me. The book and the tool kit I really don't have an idea on," Xander said in his best project manager team discussion voice.

"That leaves me and the other archer with nothing to show out of this but gold. How about she and I work out who takes the book and the tool kit. If we can agree to that, then I'm good with the rest," Zoey offered.

There were murmurs around the room as each group discussed it amongst themselves. It didn't go on as long as Xander was expecting and there really wasn't much pushback to the plan as outlined, other than a few changes. The two rogues had agreed that one of them would take both swords and the other would take the lock melter. Xander didn't really think this was a fair trade, but since they both agreed, he really would not throw cold water on their idea. In the end, they ended up playing a game of rock, paper, scissors to determine who won the toss. Alex lost and the other rogue took the lock melter. Again, Xander felt this was an odd choice, but it left Alex and the other rogue both happy.

After seeing the two rogues play rock, paper, scissors to determine who got first pick, Zoey and her counterpart did the same thing as there wasn't a clear determining factor as each of them could equally use either of the two items. Zoey won the toss and ended up taking the healing book. Breaking it open resulted in a flash of light and sparkles followed by Zoey confirming that it was indeed a skill book and had given her five points of first aid.

"Thanks for stepping up there. I wasn't exactly sure how to get through that without a lot of back and forth and arguing," Harvey quietly said, stepping up to Xander.

"No problem. Years of project management experience leading a team of highly skilled programmers gave me plenty of experience dealing with high-strung top performers. Which is ultimately what this group, and probably any adventuring group, is going to end up being," Xander replied.

"All right, gang, I think we're done here. Let's get back to JT and give him the good news!"