TAKE ON ME [Survival LITRPG Apocalypse]

The effect on Richard's spell was immediate and dramatic. The images in the bowl sharpened, and the perspective began racing across the landscape. Snow-covered hills blurred past; forests whipped by in dark smears.

"Got 'em!" Richard yelled.

Tom pushed closer to the bowl, with Dusty right beside him. The image stabilized, floating above a long line of people trudging through knee-deep snow.

That's no invading army.

They were families. Their clothes were little more than rags wrapped around shivering bodies. Children clung to their parents, many being carried because they were too weak or too small to push through the snow. Faces gazed up at the sky with hollow, haunted expressions.

Richard's spell drifted lower, giving them a closer view.

A woman with deathly pale skin clutched a small child to her chest. She stumbled, and went down hard into a snowdrift with the child smothered underneath her.

Tom's heart jolted. He thought she might not get up again.

Two other people immediately rushed to her side and hauled her to her feet. One was a big tattooed guy: probably the leader Dusty had mentioned. Someone else—an older Black woman—took the child so the mother could brush the snow from her threadbare coat.

The spell lifted away from them and turned to face the rear of the long refugee line.

The people started to run, pushing forward in sudden panic. Parents scooped up children, and older people were half-dragged, half-carried by younger relatives.

"Richard, find what they're running from," Tom said, not meaning for his voice to be so sharp.

Richard's hands trembled as he guided the spell past the fleeing figures. The images in the bowl shifted, searching through the snowy area behind the column.

"There," Kate said. "In the trees."

The first creatures emerged: half-rotten Zombie Coyotes yipped and howled as they scampered through the snow, sniffing and gnashing their teeth at the running people.

They were not alone. Behind the Zombie Coyotes came the Orcs: Tom had no other word for them. They were massive, brutish humanoids with mottled green-gray skin and tusks jutting from their lower jaws. They wore a jumble of crude metal and Leather armor. One held up a giant axe decorated with scalps.

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"Fuck fuck fuck," Dusty whispered.

Tom didn't say anything. His attention was fixed on the bowl as Richard's spell continued scanning backward, revealing more and more of the pursuing horde.

"Fire Gremlins," said Dusty, pointing at the bowl.

There were other things too: creatures in the dark that Tom couldn't identify. The bowl did not show the name tags.

"There are so many monsters," said Hana. "Those poor people . . . "

Kate nodded. "How are they even still alive? I know this sounds terrible, but they move so slow compared to the monsters. Shouldn't they all be dead by now?"

Chloe leaned forward. "Richard, can you zoom out a bit?"

Richard's fingers did a 'zoom out' reverse pinch on the side of the bowl, as if he were using a cell phone.

"See, look," Chloe said. "It's almost like they can't pass some invisible perimeter line."

From the higher vantage point, it was clear that only the people who fell behind a certain point were killed or taken.

"It's not like a straight line though," Chloe said. "It's more like a slow-moving radius . . . Richard can you zoom this way?" She made a scrolling motion over the images. "Let's see what's at the middle."

The spell zoomed back in and flew toward the center of the monster army. There was something leaning against a massive pine tree. At first, Tom thought it was a fallen log: until he saw the banded metal and spikes.

It was a club. A club that was the size of a telephone pole.

Richard's spell focused on the weapon and panned up its length.

And up.

And up.

A giant green clawed hand rested on the end of the club.

Tom heard the Town Hall door bang open behind him, but he couldn't look away from the scrying bowl.

The humanoid creature stood in the dark shadows of the forest canopy, so large that the branches around it looked like small sticks. Four yellow eyes glowed in the darkness. They didn't reflect light; they generated it, like hellish lanterns.

The monster let out a deep cruel laugh as a struggling person was carried past it by two large Orcs.

"I don't think the smaller monsters can leave the big one, and it doesn't seem like it's in a hurry," Chloe said. "It's . . . enjoying itself." Disgust laced her voice.

The huge creature leaned back and let loose a roar that somehow traveled through the magical connection. It crashed through the mirrored surface like a physical force.

Richard jerked backward with a cry, his concentration shattered. The scrying bowl tipped over and shattered, water spreading across the floor.

"What the fuck was that?" Blake's voice cut through the sudden silence.

Tom turned to see that Blake had been the last one to come in. His face was pale, and his eyes were stretched with panic. "That thing . . . those monsters . . . are they coming here? When were you planning to tell the rest of us?!"

No one answered.

Tom's mind was still processing what they'd seen. How the hell were they going to save those people and defend Raintree? The monster army alone felt nearly impossible, but that four-eyed giant . . .

Blake's voice rose to a near-shriek. "Why are we just standing here? We need to leave! Now! Today! Pack up everything, and get the fuck out before that thing gets here. We can't fight that! I'm not dying for this place. I'm not—"

"Blake." Bo's sharp voice cut through the man's building uproar. "Just calm down for a moment. We can't just all flee out into the woods. We're going to talk about the situation with everyone."

"Talk about it?" Blake laughed, high and slightly unhinged. "That thing wasn't a 'situation', it was King Kong! We should be packing right fucking now."

Blake looked to Bridget. "Tell me you're not actually thinking of staying to fight that."

Bridget looked down. She didn't answer.

Bo's guitar faded into nothing as the magic dissipated.

"All right, Dusty," Bo said, turning away from Blake. "Let us talk about it. In the meantime, you can use my Shack to go get some sleep. When you wake up, get some more food, then we'll talk again."

Dusty nodded slowly, still looking shell-shocked.

Bo turned to Bridget. "Would you please find someone to take Dusty to my Shack? Make sure everyone keeps their distance from him for now. He needs rest, not interrogation. Also, please let everyone know that tonight we'll have a town meeting. We're going to cover a lot of things and address as many questions as we can. After that, would you please join us back in the office?"

Bridget nodded, already moving to guide Dusty toward the door.

Blake's eyes bulged. His jaw flapped up and down.

"Dusty," Tom added, "we'll figure out how to help your people."

Dusty nodded: a look of desperate hope.

Blake blocked the doorway. "What the fuck is there to talk about?! We need to—"

"Tonight, Blake," Bo said firmly. "Town meeting. We'll discuss everything then."

"No, fuck that. We're doing this right now." Blake strode out and slammed the door behind him.