Surviving the Simulation: The Grand Crusade

The morning sun filtered through the inn's windows, casting a warm, golden light over the common room. The inn was quiet, save for the faint clinking of dishes as the staff began preparing breakfast. Xander sat at his usual spot near the fireplace, his gaze distant as he mulled over everything he thought they'd need for the expedition. The soft sound of paws padding across the floor interrupted his thoughts.

Cabbot, appeared out of nowhere, her ghostly form flickering slightly as she leapt onto the table. The translucent feline nuzzled against Xander's arm, her form as ethereal as ever, yet somehow being a constant source of mild mischief.

"Cabbot," Xander sighed. "You know better. Do you even need to eat?"

The cat blinked her pale, otherworldly eyes at him before batting at the spoon near his hand, causing it to clatter to the floor. She then sat down primly, her tail curling around her paws as if she had done nothing wrong.

Jo entered the common room just in time to witness the scene. She chuckled, shaking her head as she took a seat across from Xander. "Still causing trouble, I see," she said, reaching out to scratch Cabbot behind the ears. The spectral cat allowed it, but only for a moment before she hopped off the table and prowled around Jo's chair.

"Some things never change; cats are going to cat," Xander replied. He signaled the innkeeper, who quickly brought a tray of steaming coffee and fresh bread.

"Ugh, I hate coffee. We need to raid a grocery store. I will lose it if I don't get a soda soon," Xander grimaced and sipped his coffee.

"Yes, I have that on the list right next to cigars," Jo said, patting his arm in an almost patronizing manner.

"Speaking of which, I'm going to try to convince Harvey to take the expedition through a couple of the small towns along the way. Frame it as a survivor search and rescue." Xander said with a wink.

"Let me guess, the storage unit?" Jo replied, already knowing the answer.

"Maybe…"

"Fine, I'll help you convince him. Depending on the route, it may not take any convincing at all. It is probably the best route."

The two sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, sipping their drinks as the inn gradually stirred to life. One by one, the other members of the team filtered down from their rooms. Zoey appeared last, her hair still slightly tousled from sleep as she looked like the walking dead stumbling across the room.

The group settled in with the slow ease of people who had gotten used to mornings, starting with too little sleep and not enough coffee. A server drifted between tables, scribbling notes and balancing plates like it was just another day, apocalypse or not.

Kane didn't wait to be asked. "Full plate. Eggs, bacon, toast. Double if there's enough." He tapped his side like it was a fuel gauge. "If I lose more weight, my armor's gonna rattle when I walk."

Jo snorted into her mug. "You say that like it's a threat."

"Protein is fuel," Kane said. "You all keep mocking me until you're the ones passing out mid-fight."

"I pass out from your breakfast orders," Zoey said, eyes still half-lidded from sleep.

The server moved on as the rest of the group rattled off simpler requests.

Harvey stepped in, dust crusting the edges of his coat and boots as if he'd been walking through ash instead of road. He paused long enough to scan the room, then made for their table. Xander raised an eyebrow without speaking.

"Morning," Harvey greeted, moving to join the group at their table. "Just got back from checking on things outside. JT called another strategy session this morning."

Xander frowned slightly. "Again? We just had one yesterday."

Harvey shrugged, settling into his seat. "Seems there's been some fresh developments. Figured it was worth getting everyone together sooner rather than later."

The group exchanged glances, the relaxed atmosphere of the morning taking on a more urgent feeling. They knew better than to ignore a call from JT, especially with the expedition so close to launching.

Their breakfast arrived shortly after, and for a few minutes, the group allowed themselves to enjoy the meal, as it was likely that the day would be nonstop once they finished. The inn's bustle grew as more patrons filtered in, the sounds of clinking silverware and low conversation filling the air. Even Cabbot had quieted, content to weave between the chairs in her usual spectral fashion, occasionally batting at an invisible speck of dust.

Just as they were finishing their meal, a sudden, thunderous explosion rocked the inn, rattling the windows and sending a shockwave through the room. The sound, unmistakable in its violence, came from the direction of the expedition's staging area.

Every member of the group froze, their eyes wide with shock. For a moment, there was only silence, broken by the other patrons' panicked shouts and hurried footsteps as they realized what had happened.

Xander was the first to move, pushing back his chair with a force that sent it toppling to the floor. "Shit, we need to go. Now!"

Without another word, the group sprang into action, their morning sluggishness forgotten as adrenaline surged through their veins. They rushed toward the exit, the door slamming open as they burst out into the street, hearts pounding with the certainty that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

Dark plumes of smoke curled upward from the staging area, marring the sky with their presence. All around them, the town was in disarray. Townsfolk, their faces twisted in panic, darted in all directions, their shouts blending into a cacophony of fear. The orange glow of fire flickered ominously as the blaze fought to consume everything in its path.

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A fire brigade was already on the scene, forming a desperate line, buckets of water passing from hand to hand. But it was the mage, robed in deep indigo, who commanded the most attention. He stood at the forefront of the brigade, his hands moving in intricate patterns as he chanted incantations. With each word, streams of water surged from his palms, dousing the flames in controlled torrents.

As they neared the chaos, JT emerged from the throng, his expression grim. He grabbed Xander's arm, pulling him close. "It's sabotage," JT spat, the word like venom on his tongue. "Someone did this purposefully, and they knew exactly where to strike."

Xander's mind raced, the implications heavy in the air. Who would dare to orchestrate such a calculated attack, and why now? This reeked of the Cult of the Simulation. His eyes scanned the area, searching for anything out of place amidst the turmoil.

Then something cut through the chaos. A flicker of movement at the edge of the firelight. Xander's gaze locked onto a narrow alley across the square, half-obscured by smoke and the swirl of panicked bodies. There, standing just inside the shadows, Charlie leaned in close to someone. His posture was taut, shoulders drawn up like a man expecting trouble.

Xander shifted position, squinting against the haze until the second figure came into view. Lucy. Hood up, head bowed, her face mostly hidden but unmistakable. The two spoke in low tones, close, deliberate. Charlie glanced over his shoulder once, then again, scanning for witnesses.

Xander took a step forward without thinking. He couldn't hear what they were saying, not over all the shouting and the crackle of fire. One phrase reached him in a lull between screams.

"…this was just the opening move."

He froze. The words hit him like a truck.

Lucy turned slightly, enough for the firelight to catch her jawline. Charlie said something else, gestured sharply, then turned away as if ending the conversation. Lucy didn't follow. She melted deeper into the alley, swallowed by the dark.

Xander stared after them, a chill threading through the sweat on his neck. He'd never seen a covert deal to know the difference between coincidence and collusion. It was clear, though, that this wasn't two people caught in a casual conversation.

But before Xander could move or make sense of the situation, a fresh explosion of flame tore through the night, the fire roaring with newfound ferocity. The mage stumbled back, his concentration momentarily broken, and the brigade faltered, their efforts threatened by the surge.

"Harvey, Xander, we can't afford to wait another day and give the saboteurs another chance," JT called out, his anger nearly as intense as the flames consuming the town.

"Gather everyone and head to the main building. I'll get this under control and join you shortly," he ordered, turning back to the chaos before him. The urgency in his tone left no room for debate; the conversation was over, and everyone knew what needed to be done.

As JT returned to the chaos, his orders still ringing in their ears, Harvey and Xander exchanged a quick, knowing glance. There was no time to lose. With the fire raging behind them, they sprinted through the smoke-filled streets, rushing to gather the gear and supplies needed for the trip.

By the time they reached the main conference room thirty minutes later, the shift in atmosphere was clear. Firefighters had contained the roaring blaze, leaving behind a tense silence and a heavy smell of smoke throughout the safe zone.

In contrast to the morose silence in the streets, the conference room buzzed with a tense undercurrent as the group gathered around the large wooden table, their faces etched with the weight of what had just transpired. Every eye fixed on JT as he stood at the head of the table, his presence commanding their full attention.

"We've suffered a coordinated attack," JT said, voice tight. "The warehouse fire was just the start. Attackers murdered three of our team. Two engineers and one archaeologist."

No one gasped, but a wave of anger raced around the room. Clenched jaws and the shifting weight signaled the acknowledgement that the group of people in the room knew what that kind of loss meant.

"There's no time to replace the archaeologist," JT went on. "We're sending three engineers instead. They're field-cleared and briefed enough to get by."

Xander watched as the three engineers entered, all of them carrying the same silent understanding. They weren't the first choice, just the only option left standing. One looked visibly shaken, eyes darting toward the exit like they were already calculating the odds of staying alive. Another kept their expression carefully blank, posture relaxed in a way that felt practiced, almost artificial. But it was the one at the front who held his attention. There was no eagerness, no adrenaline spike, none of the posturing that usually followed a crisis. Just a flat, forward stare, like someone reading a script they'd already memorized.

"They volunteered," JT said. "We move forward. No delays."

Xander said nothing, but the sense of wrongness itched at his brain. People didn't walk into this kind of moment with no reaction.

His mind still reeling, Xander couldn't shake the image of Charlie and Lucy in the alleyway. He leaned forward, breaking the tense silence. "JT, there's something you should know. When everyone was running toward the fire or away, I saw Charlie conversing with Lucy in an alley near the blast site. It didn't look like a casual meeting."

JT's eyes narrowed at the implication. "I know you and Charlie don't mesh well together, but I don't want to believe he'd be part of this. That said, I'll have people look into it," he said, his tone clipped. "If Charlie is involved, we'll find out soon enough."

A collective unease settled over the room. No one spoke it aloud, but the thought was on everyone's mind: the Cult of the Simulation. Though no one could prove anything yet, it would fit what little information everyone had regarding their motives. If they were behind this, the stakes had just escalated dramatically.

"Listen, everyone," JT continued, his voice cutting through the tension. "We can't delay any longer. The expedition needs to get underway immediately. Whatever our adversaries are planning, we need to be one step ahead."

He looked around the room, meeting each gaze with fierce determination. "We've faced worse odds before and come out stronger. We're not about to let some fanatical cult derail us now."

The group nodded, the weight of their mission settling in. There was no more time for questions or doubts. Xander had to hand it to JT; he always knew how to inspire people to rise to the challenge.

"Gear up," JT commanded. "You move out in one hour."

"Xander, Harvey, a minute, please," JT called out as the rest of the room erupted into motion.

Moving down the table toward where Harvey and Xander sat, JT sat on the table edge and waited for the room to finish clearing out.

"I hate to be a conspiracy theorist, but it's possible that one objective of this was to slip some people into the expedition." Xander said once the room had cleared out.

"I don't want to cast suspicion on the new expedition members without proof, but keep an eye on them." JT said.

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you guys this, but I'm going to anyway for my peace of mind." JT began after a long pause. "I need you back here alive, train or no train. This morning, scouts returned with reports of increasing undead activity. Now, this business of saboteurs who could be part of the cult. We don't have proof, but this is the cult based on everything we know. All three of us know it."

"We've got this, JT. Honestly, there's more danger here in town than out in the wild. Sure, there are more monsters, but the danger will be overt instead of covert." Harvey said.

"I'm with Harvey on this. Leaving now is the right call. We can scavenge for supplies along the way," Xander said. Then, turning to Harvey, he added, "I'd like to tweak our planned route slightly. It could throw off any potential pursuit and bring us closer to some places I think we could salvage supplies."

After a moment of consideration, Harvey nodded in agreement, and JT spoke with a hint of concern in his voice. "I trust both of you. Now, get out there and kick this expedition off. Good luck to you both."

With those last words, the trio exchanged brief, determined glances before parting ways. There was no time for lingering; the weight of their mission pressed down on them like the heat of the midday sun.