TAKE ON ME [Survival LITRPG Apocalypse]

[Would you like to germinate this seed?]

Kate's fingers danced around the lone seed, its smooth surface rolling between her thumb and finger. She flicked her wrist, and it sailed upward before she snatched it from the air. She willed the intrusive prompt away; a silent refusal repeated for the hundredth time.

The memory of the previous day gnawed at her. The [Gatherers] and [Herbalists] had been eager to unload their bounty of unknown seeds into her care since she had the [Farmer] profession. Over and over, she had poured her mana into them, watching as they sprang forth with life, stretching toward the sky. But then, without fail, some horrible mutation would seize them. Tendrils twisted, stalks bent backward, and blooming chaos ensued until they exploded in a grotesque display of failure.

Kate had approached others with the [Farming] profession. Their collective excitement had wilted as they had gotten the same results; greenery bursting and dying in a repeated cycle of hope and devastation.

They were still bottle-necked, since Bo couldn't create a farming plot yet.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Kate's heart beat harder than normal.

The previous day, after the subdivision meeting and dinner, everyone had settled down early to get some rest before a long day of travel.

Well, everyone except Bo.

With the new day came packing, followed by planning, followed by more packing. The plan to leave the hill the morning after finding the Dungeon had been too ambitious; moving hundreds of cold, tired people was a lot more difficult than anticipated. They had to find ways to haul their lumber; they needed to prepare and pack extra food; they needed to gather and secure all the tools they had made; the list went on and on.

Bo was storming around and losing his mind.

Thankfully, they had scouts circling the campsite night and day. The Headless had been quiet for a while, but the campers didn't know if the extra noise and activity would attract them.

Mike and Jill reported that plant-based food supplies close to the campsite were dwindling, and the travelers' food supplies would only last so long.

Kate had risen early. The crisp morning air had been filled with the sounds of a community stirring to life. She'd shared a simple breakfast with her family, then shifted into the role of quartermaster; helping the community sort through worn blankets, backpacks, random gear, and clothing. Many pre-apocalypse cloth items now were threadbare and hole-riddled, and Kate placed those in a pile of things to leave behind.

Now, with most families packed and ready to go, Kate was keeping an eye on the kids who, as always, were running training drills.

If I can't figure out this germination problem, am I always going to be relegated to babysitter?

The children's laughter and battle cries punctured the air. Tess, ever the innovator, had devised training games that turned drills into play, while imparting lessons around strategy and teamwork.

Tom had been vocal about his apprehension regarding training. However, as Kate observed the kids, she didn't know that she agreed with him anymore. The kids darted, dodged, and lunged with sticks in-hand. She could easily picture them fighting for their lives against the Headless. It was in these moments, watching them weave through mock battles, that Kate questioned whether they were shielding them too much.

The seed between Kate's fingers drew her attention once more. She gave it a final toss, watching it spin in the air, and caught it deftly. This time, when the 'germinate' prompt blinked in her vision, she didn't dismiss it.

"All right, little one," she murmured to the seed. "Let's give this another shot."

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She focused, and channeled her mana into the tiny vessel, feeding its thirst for energy. The sprout emerged, unfurling toward the sun's embrace. Kate's heart swelled with hope as she set the seed down onto the soil. The stem thickened, leaves spreading wide to catch the golden rays.

A grotesque mass of roots burst from the wrong end of the plant, toppling the shoot, and Kate's aspirations. It crumpled, brown and defeated, under the sunlight.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

A loud drum beat within her chest. Kate closed her eyes against her rising blood pressure. She sat, and focused on her breathing.

Kate had always struggled with a quick temper, but lately she found herself constantly having to hold back from losing control. It wasn't just the obvious stress and tension of their situation; there was something else brewing inside her chest. A deep, primal heat that stirred at the slightest provocation. She mentally called upon her ability.

[Druid Abilities]

[Mother Bear I]

Transformation ability.

Answering the wild call, the Mother Bear spell allows the Druid to transform into a Bear, tapping into the formidable essence of one of nature's fiercest maternal protectors. In this ferocious state, the Druid gains enhanced damage, regeneration, and toughness, becoming a relentless force driven by the innate instincts of a Mother Bear.

Current Species: Ursus americanus (Black Bear)

Ability Power: XS.01

Mana Usage: S.01

10 Copper to upgrade; you cannot do that here.

Kate dismissed the ability prompt. She shook her head, unable to trust the bear she would become. It felt so . . . angry.

She assumed her motherly instincts would prevent her harming her children. But what about others? What if she accidentally attacked Tom? Or the Robinsons? Or—that piece of shit—Blake?

No. It's safer to just ignore it.

Kate opened her eyes and let out a deep breath. Her gaze fell upon some bone tools Hana had crafted, which were now secured to her backpack. A spade, a shovel, a hoe; useless, until she could unravel the mystery of the seeds.

Hana had been resourceful, modifying the basic hoe design into the other tools, and making new blueprints as she went. Kate reached out and ran her fingers over the smooth bone handles. The cool touch helped ground her swirling thoughts.

"Hey," said the familiar voice. There was a warm hand on her shoulder. Tom's presence was a comforting weight behind her.

"Thanks for watching the kids," he said, his tone melancholy. "Most of the hill is fed, which is great."

Kate squinted at him over her shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Tom shrugged. "Nothing."

Kate raised her eyebrows.

"It's just . . . they didn't even need me this morning. I just fetched ingredients for them."

Kate studied Tom. His movements were stiff, and there was a subtle crease between his brows, only noticeable to someone who knew him as intimately as she did. It betrayed his physical and emotional anguish.

Kate patted the space beside her on the downed log.

Tom stifled a groan as he lowered himself. He leaned forward, his shoulders slumped.

"We're going to be even later getting started," Tom said, staring at his hands. "Bo and Bridget are dealing with several new issues. I offered to help, but they have a system, and I think I was just in the way."

Kate wove her fingers into Tom's. "Well, that's okay. Spend the time with me." She squeezed his hand. "I'm glad you're here."

"We haven't had a lot of alone time." He bumped her gently. "I miss you."

"Miss you too."

Tom's frown deepened, and Kate followed his eyes to the children's mock battles. Youthful laughter mingled with the thud of sticks on makeshift armor.

Kate clicked her tongue softly. "They're fine. They're being safe."

One of the younger children—a tiny White girl with dark pigtails—expertly flipped away from an attack.

"Even if someone got hurt, Finn is right there," Kate said.

Kate's eyes landed on Chloe. She sat apart from the games, her arms around her knees.

Kate nudged Tom, and indicated their daughter. "I need to talk to her. Amber mentioned some of the others have been . . . mean."

Thump. Thump. Thump.

"Especially since she froze the other night on stage. Kids calling her weird, stuff like that. It's got to be affecting her. Has she said anything? Has she been eating?"

Tom's reply came slowly, his attention shifting from the training ground to Kate. "Yeah, I've been making sure she eats." There was a hint of hopelessness in his words. He ran a hand through his short hair. "But I don't know what to do about any of this, Kate." He paused. "You know what's fucked up? Today is the seventh. It was only one week ago that we were laying around our house." He scoffed. "I used to daydream about exciting adventure shit like this. My family and friends battling through some fantastic journey." A far-off look clouded his eyes. "I'd give anything to be back in our house right now, with everyone safe."

Kate's fingers traced the lines of Tom's palm. She exhaled a ragged breath. "God, only seven days? Feels like a lifetime ago." She sagged into Tom's side. "What I wouldn't give for a hot shower."

Tom groaned. "And some french fries."

They both chuckled.

They sat together, shoulders touching, watching Tess driving the mock battles with diligence despite the playfulness of the activity.

The younger ones, sensing an opportunity for mischief, combined playful jeers and puppy-eyed pleading to coax Tom into the fray. Kate, Loo and Amber egged him on, and the children managed to pull Tom from his spot.

"All right, you little boogers," Tom feigned a monstrous growl. "Let's see what you've got!"

The training exercise devolved into cheerful chaos. The children swarmed around Tom, brandishing their sticks like swords, darting in and out of reach, and occasionally hitting his legs. Tom swung his arms and feigned slow sweeping movements, allowing the occasional tap from the enthusiastic combatants, and doling out gentle nudges and playful grabs. His laughter mingled with the children's delighted squeals.

Kate shifted from the log to the grass.

The shadows lengthened on the hill. The sky was ablaze with the day's last embers.

Doesn't look like we'll be leaving today, either.

"Gotcha!" Tom scooped up the giggling girl with pigtails.

Kate leaned back on her hands, the grass cool and damp beneath her.

The tremor was subtle at first. A deceptive vibration that could have been mistaken for the pounding of little feet. But then it grew, mounting into a deep, resonant shudder that clawed its way up from the ground.

The children stopped mid-chase. Some fell over. Sticks clattered to the ground.

Kate jumped up and ran toward the children. She widened her stance and instinctively braced, forming a protective shield over two kids who stumbled into her embrace.

Thump. Thump. Thump.