Surviving the Simulation: The Grand Crusade

Once the team exited the Blackwhisker Stronghold, it was late evening, with only a sliver of twilight sun remaining in the sky. They reinforced Xander's old house until he felt it was secure enough to stay the night, and by then, no one even glanced at the pile of dungeon loot, too drained to care. Instead, they left it next to the cache of supplies, something to deal with in the morning.

As he had been for the last two days, Xander was once again awakened to the chime of the Simulation morning update and the smell of coffee.

Greetings, players! Congratulations on making it through the third planetary cycle of the Simulation reboot. You will be happy to know that the level-zero protocols are working as intended and the global player population is adjusting toward the accepted upper limits of the Simulation. Previous player population: 3,265,685,136 Human. Current player population: 1,948,487,136 Human. No player data for additional player species available.

"Man, I'm really getting tired of that message every day," Alex complained. "Anyone know the last time the world population was two billion?"

"Roughly 1920, right after World War I," Xander replied as he took his camp mug out of his bushcraft pack, not fully awake.

A quiet moment passed between them, the only sound the crackling of the fire. Then Zoey exhaled and gestured toward the pile of loot. "Well… I spent some time looking through what we got." Her tone was lighter, but not forced. "Most of it's geared toward crafting, like that ring we found right at the start of the dungeon yesterday. Doesn't do us a lot of immediate good, but if we can sell it in a safe zone, it should give them an enormous boost."

"I'd love to save it for JT back at Starlight, but I don't think we can afford to hold on to it that long. We're running out of space to carry stuff," Xander replied. He shifted the Bloodfang Lance against his shoulder, still adjusting to its weight. "At least I've got a proper spear again. Finishing that fight with just my mace was brutal."

"Yeah, you looked like you were one bad swing away from getting turned into rat food," Alex said with a smirk.

Xander rolled his eyes, but didn't argue. The Bloodfang Lance was heavier than his old spear, its balance different, but it felt solid and meant for actual combat. "Did you get a look at anything else we picked up?"

"Yeah," Zoey said. "Mostly crafting materials and some enchanted gear. Nothing game-changing, but a few solid upgrades for Alex and myself."

"I got the spear, so if you and Alex found some armor upgrades, I'm not going to argue."

"We found something else interesting in that control room. One skeleton had a journal of sorts. Listen to some of these last entries," Alex said, picking up the book from a nearby table. "Something is wrong with the Simulation. Monsters have stopped spawning and Venturis the Great World Engine has stopped responding. We have attempted to reach out to the administrators at Avalantara or Heliora the Controller, but there has been no response."

"There is one last entry," Alex continued. "Mana has stopped working properly. All the constructs and machinery is offline. Norin continues to work on the control console to open the door, but to no avail. We are trapped."

"Damn, those skeletons weren't just for set decoration then," Zoey frowned. "I'm sure figuring out what happened to the Simulation is going to be important for someone to figure out, but I don't think that's going to be on us."

"I'm with you. Interesting, but not going to be something I worry about. None of us got a quest notification on it, did we?" Xander asked.

No one had gotten a quest based on that information, so Xander filed it away as a tomorrow problem. He wanted to hit the road as soon as possible, but first, he needed to patch up his gear before heading to St. Joseph.

Sitting near the fire, he threaded a needle through the torn sleeve of his duster, the fabric stiff with dried blood and dirt. He had swapped out some of his more damaged armor with pieces from the dungeon, but nothing could replace the duster. It was comfortable, and if he was being honest with himself, he thought it looked cool. He wasn't about to toss it aside if he could help it.

"We good to move out soon?" Alex asked, adjusting the straps on his pack.

"Almost," Xander muttered, tying off the last stitch before shrugging the duster back on. The repair job wasn't perfect, but it would hold.

With their gear checked and their supplies packed, the trio set off.

As they walked, Xander scanned the horizon, his mind wandering back to St. Joseph. It was about the same size as Tolono, where he'd grown up. If survivors had established a base there, the question was where?

He considered the problem the way JT would. Any base needed to be defensible, but also expandable. Ideally, it would also be a registered safe zone, although the Simulation infuriatingly did not specify what qualified a location. The lack of documentation was something Xander had given up complaining about. It wasn't going to magically appear just because it annoyed him.

That left him with practical options. His best guess? The high school.

"What are you thinking about?" Zoey asked, keeping pace beside him.

"Where the safe zone in St. Joseph would be, if there is one," Xander replied, stepping over a patch of overgrown gravel. "High school's the best bet. It's got brick construction, open grounds for expansion, and that old greenhouse they got a state grant for a few years back."

"Makes sense," Zoey agreed. "Schools are built tough."

Xander nodded but frowned. The real question wasn't where it was, but rather who owned it.

St. Joseph had never been a town that avoided small-town politics. Its leaders, historically, had been the kind to grip power for power's sake, more concerned with playing mayor than actually governing. If someone like JT had taken charge, that would be one thing. But if it was the type of person Xander suspected? That was going to be a problem.

They kept moving, sticking to tree lines and back roads to avoid unnecessary encounters. Xander caught sight of deer tracks pressed into the soft dirt. It was an encouraging sign. Survival out here was going to come down to who had the skills to adapt. Grocery stores were gone, and the people who had relied on them their whole lives were in for a harsh awakening.

Central Illinois was mostly prairie, but it had enough wooded patches and farmland breakpoints to make for good hunting. Deer, turkey, pheasant and other game animals. There was plenty to go around for those who knew what they were doing.

The question was whether the people of St. Joseph were those people.

As they neared St. Joseph, Xander picked out the familiar signs of civilization struggling to reassert itself. Unlike the other towns they had passed through, most of which were charred ruins haunted by scavengers and monsters, this town showed signs of order.

Someone repurposed a battered road sign into a crude Safe Zone marker, its letters scrawled in red paint.

SAFE ZONE AHEAD.
LOCALS WELCOME.
OUTSIDERS PROCEED TO REGISTRATION.
BE PREPARED TO DECLARE YOUR ITEMS.

Xander slowed his pace, scanning the message. The wording was… interesting.

"'Declare your items'?" Alex muttered. "That's interesting. Same comment for the locals vs outsiders part. You know what? Everything about this sign is a red flag."

Xander frowned as he took in the sign's undertone. "Means someone's trying to build their own little empire."

"Could also be hoarding control. Remember the great toilet paper debacle? People hoard stupid things when they panic." Zoey said.

"True," Xander admitted, but something about it didn't sit right. A registration process meant someone was controlling entry, deciding who got in and who didn't. That wasn't necessarily bad, but it left plenty of room for abuse.

Their path through town was eerily quiet. They hadn't seen a single monster since crossing into the outskirts, but faint signs of life hinted that people were watching. Curtains twitched in second-story windows. A small group of kids peered out from behind a gas station before ducking away. No one approached them, but no one warned them off either.

It wasn't until they were several blocks south of the high school that Xander spotted movement ahead.

A patrol of roughly ten people, moving in a loose formation. They were armed, but barely. A mix of baseball bats, rusted machetes, and a few farm tools repurposed into weapons. One man at the front gripped a pitchfork like it was a spear, though the uneven prongs made it clear it had seen better days.

Their clothing was just as mismatched. Some wore layers of scavenged leather, while others had padded their arms with cut-up sports gear. They were trying to look official, but Xander saw it for what it was: a group of people trying to hold power with whatever scraps they could find.

Xander kept his expression neutral, but his stomach tightened. He activated Analyze, scanning the group as they closed the distance. Analyze returned little in the way of information, just that the approaching gaggle of people were human and they were all level zero except for one.

His brow furrowed. Level one was the highest? That didn't make sense. By now, even non-combatants should have gained experience just from surviving, whether through fighting, scavenging, or simply adapting to the new world. But this patrol? They hadn't leveled at all.

The group stopped about forty yards ahead, spreading across the road in an attempt to look more imposing than they actually were. At the front, a broad-shouldered man raised a hand. His mismatched armor, a patchwork of scavenged leather and repurposed sports gear, did little to make him look official.

"Hold up there," he called. "State your business. No one enters the safe zone without authorization."

Xander took a half-step forward, keeping his posture relaxed. "Just passing through. Thought we'd check in at the safe zone, get a hot meal, maybe pass along some news from the Starlight Oasis south of Tolono."

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The man shook his head. "Outsiders don't get automatic entry. You'll need to register at the gate and wait for the daily lottery."

Xander exchanged a glance with Zoey. So there was a process. The question was, was it real or just another way to keep people out?

"How long does that take?" he asked.

The patrol leader smirked. "Few days, maybe more."

Of course it would.

"Look, my friend, I don't have time for bureaucracy," he said, keeping his tone light. "We cleared a dungeon full of rodentia in Sidney and helped break monster control over Tolono. Surely there's some way to expedite this process." Xander said.

The patrol leader's smirk widened. It was the kind of expression Xander had seen a hundred times before from men who thought they were in charge of something.

"You want in faster? Talk to the gate sergeant. He's the one who handles VIP access. If you're important enough, maybe he'll cut through the red tape for you."

Xander didn't need some brilliant flash of insight to recognize a setup when he saw one. This wasn't about security or population control. It was a pay-to-play system, disguised under the right words. VIP access. Sure.

And these guys? They didn't handle the money themselves. That meant one thing: they got a cut for every "VIP" they sent to the sergeant.

He met the patrol leader's gaze and offered a slow nod. "Appreciate the tip. We'll see what he has to say."

The man grinned and motioned toward the road. "You do that."

As they moved past the patrol, Xander leaned slightly toward Zoey. "This isn't a town," he muttered. "It's someone's dream of empire or a leader that is terrified out of their mind. Neither option bodes well for us."

Zoey didn't respond, but the glance she shot toward the patrol said she was thinking the same thing.

They kept their pace steady, moving through the outskirts toward the high school, now just a few blocks away. Even from here, it was clear that whoever ran St. Joseph had been busy.

Instead of the junk car barricades at Starlight Oasis, someone reinforced the original chain-link fence with razor wire, while newly constructed wooden barricades and watchtowers suggested long-term planning. Someone boarded up or reinforced the windows with steel mesh, sealing off potential weak points.

Xander took it all in slowly. JT had better be making this kind of progress back at Starlight, he thought.

The signs had done their job, leading Xander and his team to the main entrance of the St. Joseph safe zone, and as soon as they rounded the last street corner, the purpose of the wooden walls became obvious. It wasn't just a checkpoint but rather it was a funnel.

The narrow corridor forced anyone seeking entry into a confined space, perfect for controlling the flow of people… or cutting them down if needed. The defenders had taken their cues from history Bottleneck the approach, maximize defensive angles, and control who gets through. Someone with a solid grasp of fortifications had been involved in this.

Xander kept walking, his eyes sweeping the setup, filing details away for later.

Two lines formed at the checkpoint. One moved quickly as locals received a wave through with casual nods and familiar greetings. The slow movement of the outsiders' line trapped people in a process leading to inevitable rejection.

A guard stood at the dividing point, sorting people with the ease of someone who had been doing this for days. He barely looked at those he sent into the locals' line, only breaking his rhythm to exchange the occasional inside joke or familiar nod. When outsiders stepped up, his expression changed. His expression took on an uninterested look, perhaps barely disguising disdain. Some he dismissed outright. Others got a cursory question or two before being waved toward the slower line.

Xander clenched his jaw, but forced his expression to stay neutral. The guard wasn't even pretending to evaluate people. He already knew exactly who he was letting in and who he wasn't.

When their turn came, Xander stepped forward. "Family's from St. Joseph," he said, keeping his tone even. "I grew up a few miles south of here."

The guard barely flicked his eyes toward him. "Not on the list." He motioned toward the outsider line without hesitation.

Xander didn't move. "You don't have a list."

The guard offered a small, almost cruel smile. "It's in my head."

For a moment, Xander considered pressing the issue, but the subtle weight of attention from the other guards made it clear how that would go. This wasn't a debate.

Without another word, he turned and walked toward the outsider line, Zoey and Alex close behind.

They weren't in line for long before the crack of boots against pavement snapped Xander's attention forward. A man bolted toward the gate, breaking from the line in a full sprint. Desperation twisted his features, and for a moment, Xander almost wanted him to make it just to see what would happen.

The guards didn't hesitate. Two of them surged forward. The first met the runner with a shoulder-check that sent him sprawling into the dirt. The second grabbed the man by the collar, hauling him upright before shoving him backward, hard.

The man hit the ground again with a grunt, coughing as he struggled to get his breath back. Someone in the crowd let out a sharp laugh.

"What the hell did you think was gonna happen?" an older woman muttered nearby. "Run in and what? Just… live here?"

The man didn't respond. He pushed himself up, dusted himself off, and walked away without another word.

Xander caught a shift of movement above and glanced toward the third floor of the high school. A row of windows overlooked the checkpoint, and in one of them, a figure stood watching.

Recognition flickered before he even fully processed why. It was the principal's office. He knew those windows well. Hell, he'd spent enough time looking out from behind that glass, waiting for the inevitable lecture about responsibility or wasted potential. He almost smirked. Some things didn't change.

But the figure watching them now wasn't a principal. Whoever it was, they were interested in what was happening down here. Before he could study them further, the line lurched forward.

The two people ahead of them stepped up to the checkpoint. A middle-aged man and a younger woman who looked barely out of high school. They both spoke quickly, voices overlapping as they tried to plead their case.

"…just need a place to stay, I have skills, I can…"

"…won't be a burden, I swear, I can work…"

The guard didn't even pretend to listen. He held up a hand, cutting them off mid-sentence. "Not today."

The man took a step forward. "Please. Just give us a chance…"

"I said not today." The guard's voice remained level, but the guards behind him shifted their stance.

The two outsiders hesitated, then turned and walked away, heads down, steps slow.

Xander stepped forward, Zoey and Alex flanking him.

"Name and reason for entry," the guard said, already looking past them, as if deciding how quickly he could wave them off.

"Xander, Zoey, and Alex," Xander replied smoothly. "We're adventurers coming from south of Tolono. Looking to trade information, grab a hot meal, rest, and then head east toward Kickapoo."

"Full up today," he said, monotone. "Try again in a few days."

Xander exhaled slowly, shaking his head. Here we go.

"I don't think that'll work for us," he said, keeping his voice calm. "We don't plan on sticking around long enough for a waiting period. What can we do to get an exception?"

The guard smirked.

"There's always another way," he said, tapping the edge of his clipboard. "For those who… prove their value."

Xander's fingers curled slightly, but his voice remained measured. "VIP access, right?"

The guard shrugged. "Call it what you want."

Xander didn't answer immediately. He let the silence hang between them, long enough that the guard shifted slightly, as if debating whether to add more.

Then, finally, he nodded once.

The guard smiled. "You can speak with the sergeant of the gate. He'll handle the details."

He motioned toward a side path leading away from the main gate. "Through there."

Xander didn't move immediately. He stole one last glance toward the third-floor window. The figure was still watching.

Then he turned and walked toward the sergeant's office, Zoey and Alex at his side.

The gate sergeant's office sat just beyond the main checkpoint, housed inside what had once been a portable classroom near the edge of the high school grounds. The structure was old, the kind of prefab unit designed to be temporary but left in place for decades, its sun-bleached plastic siding warped by years of heat and neglect. Xander had seen plenty like it, the kind that stank of old carpet and industrial cleaner, the kind that rattled in a stiff wind.

The guard rapped his knuckles against the door before pushing it open, motioning for Xander and his team to step inside. The air was slightly cooler, though whether from insulation or lack of windows, Xander couldn't tell. A sturdy wooden desk dominated the room, its polished surface out of place among the scavenged shelves and metal filing cabinets that lined the walls, the sort of furniture too heavy to steal during a looting spree. The man behind the desk had the same air of permanence. He had broad-shouldered and appeared to be in his mid-forties, with the hardened look of someone who had survived more than his fair share. His clothing was practical, layers of scavenged leather reinforced with scrap metal on the shoulders, a heavy-duty work shirt beneath. He didn't bother with any unnecessary displays of authority. He simply existed in this space, comfortable in his role, exuding control without the need to force it.

The moment the door closed, he gestured toward the mismatched chairs across from him. "Sit."

Xander didn't. "We won't take much of your time."

The sergeant made a noise in response, not quite a sigh, not quite irritation. It was more the resigned acceptance of a man who had done this too many times already. He leaned back, one hand resting on the arm of his chair, the other drumming a slow rhythm against the desk. "You're here about the VIP pass."

Xander inclined his head, neither confirming nor denying.

The sergeant studied them for a moment before continuing, his tone even as if reciting a script. "This isn't a bribe. It's about making sure non-locals contribute to the safe zone's stability. We have limited resources. We can't afford to let people in if they can't pull their weight."

Xander had heard a lot of well-practiced lies in his life, but this wasn't one. The man believed what he was saying, or at least had convinced himself it was true. That didn't make it any less of a shakedown.

The list of acceptable contributions came next. It was a surprise that the desired items were mainly food, medical supplies, weapons, and survival gear. All reasonable, all things a struggling community would need. But no mention of currency, which confirmed what Xander had already suspected. Gold didn't hold weight yet, not in a world still too new to have reestablished an economy. They wanted things that could keep his people alive.

"What about gold?" Alex asked.

The sergeant shook his head. "Not interested."

Xander didn't react. He had expected that. The question had only been useful in gauging the man's response.

He shifted his weight slightly, resting his hand against the back of the chair, still refusing to sit. "We're willing to part with some general supplies and ration packs," he said, keeping his tone controlled. He let the words settle for a beat before adding, "Weapons and medical supplies are a non-starter."

The sergeant didn't speak right away, letting the statement linger between them. When he responded, his voice carried something different, not quite amusement, but a curiosity that hadn't been there before.

"You must be sitting on a decent stash if you can afford to draw lines like that."

Xander didn't rise to the bait. "We travel light, but we're not stupid."

The sergeant huffed, "Let's see what you've got."

Xander unbuckled his pack, keeping his movements slow and deliberate as he pulled out three days' worth of ration packs and some nonessential supplies. Enough to look reasonable, but not enough to raise questions. The guard stepped forward, took the bundle, and carried it to the back of the room, where a locked supply cart sat against the far wall. As the guard added the items, he clicked the latch shut, securing them with what had already been collected from previous transactions.

Xander might have let it end there, but something caught his attention. Another guard stepped forward, collecting a smaller portion of the supplies before slipping through the back door without a word.

Xander's expression didn't change. Neither did the sergeant's.

A second too long passed in silence before the man pulled open a desk drawer and retrieved a small card, sliding it across the polished wood. "Three VIP passes. Show it at the main checkpoint, and you're in."

Xander took it without looking at it, slipping it into his pocket.

"We done here?"

The sergeant nodded. "Welcome to St. Joseph."

Xander turned without another word, motioning for Zoey and Alex to follow, stepping back into the sunlight where the sounds of the checkpoint still carried through the streets. The moment the door closed behind them, he exhaled slowly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the pass still tucked in his pocket.

He didn't speak until they were clear of the building.

"That was interesting," he muttered.

Zoey glanced toward him but didn't ask what he meant. She didn't have to. She'd caught the subtle redistribution of resources, the quiet handoff that meant someone inside this operation had an agenda beyond just keeping the safe zone stocked.

Whatever system they had just bought their way into, it wasn't just about survival. Someone was stockpiling and Xander intended to find out why.

But before Xander could take two steps toward the main door to the school, another guard intercepted them..

"You there! Did I hear you right earlier? You came up from Tolono?"

"Actually, we were at the Starlight Oasis when everything kicked off. Since then, we've moved through Tolono, Philo, and Sidney to find ourselves here. We've got quite a bit of information on monsters, survivors, and dungeons between here and there," Xander offered.

"Dungeons? That's something I'm sure the council will want to hear more about. Would you mind meeting with them and sharing what you know? They're having some difficulty accepting what's going on. It's causing some issues," the man said, glancing back at the sergeant of the guard's office.

Xander chuckled, shaking his head. "Denial's a hell of a survival strategy."