“Life is not what you expect: it is made up of the most unexpected twists and turns.”

Ilaiyaraaja, Indian musician (1943 - )

Milly ducked as the ogre lashed out, flinching as its fist sailed over her head. Her breath came in frantic gasps and her legs burned from the constant struggle to survive just a few more seconds. The ogre’s injuries slowed its movements, but the battle had exhausted her as well.

Her war hammer grew heavy in her arms, her movements sluggish. In desperation, she hurled the hammer at the stumbling beast. It struck on its right side, dislocating its shoulder, and it gasped in pain. Yet still it pursued her, even as its lifeblood soaked the forest floor.

It’s bleeding from a dozen wounds. Broken shoulder. Broken fingers. Pierced muscles. It can’t have much left in it. But I’m running on fumes too. All it has to do is outlast me…and I’m not going to last much longer. I need to finish this. I need a weapon. I-I don’t want to die!

Her gaze flickered to the lobby, and the crates of weapons that lay just beyond its glass doors. She swerved, hoping she would get there before the ogre caught her.

As she grew close, her foot slipped on the wet undergrowth, and, in that moment, she felt the exhaustion take hold of her legs. The burning was unbearable, and all her effort went into simply placing one foot in front of the other as the ogre closed the gap.

She glanced up and saw a Tutoria—her Tutoria—watching through the stained glass with an infuriatingly neutral expression on her face

You said I’d be one of the first to die. But I’m not going to give you that satisfaction. I’m going to survive!

Her vision blurred and she struggled to take every breath, yet she pushed herself towards the lobby, refusing to let the final blow fall.

The lobby doors suddenly burst open, and a voice called out from within.

“Mil-dead, over here!”

Milly’s eyes grew wide in astonishment. Calista—in her short black skirt and high heels—burst out of the lobby clutching a rusted spear to her chest. She ran straight towards Milly and the bulldozing ogre.

“Catch!” Calista shouted, as she threw the spear to Milly. As she threw, the heel of her shoe broke, causing her to tumble to the ground.

Time seemed to slow, and using the last of her strength, she caught the spear in mid-air. She flipped around and hurled it at the ogre’s face just as the ogre launched itself at her, its meaty hand outstretched to capture its elusive prey.

The ogre’s fingers struck her in the stomach, knocking the wind from her lungs and shoving her backwards into Calista. Calista wrapped her arms protectively around Milly as she crashed into her, and they both shut their eyes, fearing the worst.

The ogre slammed into the ground beside them, his momentum carving a deep groove through the undergrowth until he was twenty feet from the lobby entrance.

The monster didn’t get up. The spear had lodged deep into the monster’s eye, and blood soaked the soil beneath it.

“Is it…dead?” Calista whispered, holding Milly protectively.

Milly erupted in hysterical laughter, her body on fire. Her muscles ached more than they ever had in her life, and she could feel the bruise already forming on her chest where the monster’s meaty fingers had struck her.

She leaned back into Calista’s arms and stared at the lush canopy above her. Colorful songbirds flew into the air and filled the world with their music, as if celebrating her victory. A refreshing wind blew across her skin, and the feeling of Calista’s soft fingers against her stomach gave her goosebumps.

I’m alive. I feel alive. I feel so very much alive!

“Mil-dead! A-Are you okay? Do you…um…need anything?” Calista asked awkwardly.

Milly, suddenly realizing whose arms were wrapped around her, bolted upright. She looked at Calista’s blood-specked yet somehow still pretty face and tried to stammer out a response.

All she managed to squeak out was “Water, please.”

“Okay, don’t…don’t go anywhere,” Calista said, gently removing her arms from around Milly’s waist. “I’ll be right back.”

“I won’t,” she breathed, as she lay back in the undergrowth. Above her, the battle results screen appeared, the vibrant jungle canopy visible behind its transparent screen.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Congratulations! You have defeated Phillip the Ogre.

Yeah, okay. That was pretty awesome, Milly. Here, you deserve this one!

You have been awarded 200 experience points.

Milly Hawthorn has leveled up.

Milly Hawthorn has leveled up.

Four attribute points acquired.

Items Received: Wedding Ring of Phillip the Ogre

Gold: 50

All items and gold have been added to your inventory.

Milly swiped the screen away. She was covered in sweat and blood, and her long hair was plastered to her face. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her first full breath.

I would have been dead without that spear. Calista saved my life! And…and she’s coming right back.

She desperately tried to pull her hoodie down over her belly button, suddenly self-conscious of her appearance. Her effort tore open the stitching on the side, creating a tear all the way up to the bottom of her breasts.

“Damn it,” she mumbled, giving up on any semblance of modesty. “I’ll be walking around the office in my bra at this rate, but I just don’t have the energy to care right now.”

She lay on her back and watched brightly billed parrots glide between the branches against the light of the setting sun.

As her adrenaline began to fade, her aches and pains found their way to the forefront of her consciousness. She pressed her palm against her chest and called upon Healer’s Touch. Shutting her eyes, she allowed its soothing sensation to spread across her body and syphon away the pain as she weaved the threads of magic to heal the bruises.

Xavier slowly limped over, his breath shallow, and gave her a weak thumbs up.

“T-two more levels, Milly. Totally worth it,” he coughed weakly, hissing in pain as he inhaled. “Shit, I think I broke a rib. I’ll need you to heal me tonight.”

“Sure,” she whispered through her utter exhaustion. “Sure Xavier, no problem.”

She opened her player screen and used her points to increase her magic attribute by four. She flinched as the brief pain struck, and as it faded, she knew it had made a significant difference.

The magical reserve next to her heart ballooned in size, and the power and speed of her Healer’s Touch was amplified. She could feel the difference as her magic soaked away the pain of her injuries.

“Increased your magic?” he asked curiously.

Milly just nodded, too tired to play Xavier’s game of secrets. “I’m going to help the injured,” she told him. “After I lay here for a while.”

“Just make sure you save enough magic for me,” he replied. He gave the ogre’s corpse a sharp kick and hissed with instant regret as pain shot up his leg.

“I’ll…I’ll be in our cubicle,” he groaned. He eyed the tenth floor, spotting their coworkers staring out the window at the carnage below. “Cowards. All of them are fucking cowards.”

Milly turned her head towards the dead man a few steps away—the man Calista had fought to save.

“Calista wasn’t a coward,” she muttered, more to herself than to Xavier. “She tried to save this man. She did save me.”

He didn’t answer her, too exhausted to argue. He stumbled towards the lobby and swerved wide of Calista as she returned with a water bottle clutched in her hands.

Calista sat next to Milly, her head down so she wouldn’t see the bodies that littered the jungle. Her cheek was bright red where Milly had slapped her.

“Here, that's all I could find. It’s tap water. The sinks still work. So does the power. No one knows why.”

Milly took the bottle from the woman and gulped down its contents as if she were dying of thirst.

“Th-thank you,” she said after she swallowed the last drop. “For the water, and for the spear. That was…um…very brave of you.”

She mentally kicked herself for the lame response, and unconsciously yanked on her hoodie again, trying to cover her belly button. This time, the fabric tore on the right side.

It was the last straw.

Tears formed in her eyes as everything—the goblins, the ogre, and the intensity of the entire day—crashed down upon her all at once.

She wept, her tears streaming down her cheeks as she unconsciously tugged at her favorite hoodie to hide her belly, causing the tears to get worse.

Calista gently grasped her hand and moved it away from her hoodie.

“You don’t have to do that,” Calista said softly. “You were incredible today, Mil-dead. I’ve never seen that side of you.”

“Wh-why do you call me that?” she asked through exhausted tears, her psyche shredded by the day’s events. “I…I hate it. I hate it! I hate everything you do to me!”

The words came out of her unbidden, and Milly’s heart clenched with instant regret.

I-I shouldn’t have said that. She’s just going to bully me more. I…wait, is she…crying?

“I-I didn’t know,” Calista said, her voice shaken as tears appeared in her eyes. “It was just a stupid nickname. Because you’re a goth. Y-you never said anything, and I thought…maybe…you…liked it?”

She thought I was a goth? She thought I liked her calling me Mil-dead?! That’s…what the hell? You know what? Fuck it! We’re in this stupid death contest and I just killed an ogre. I don’t need to deal with this shit.

Milly’s tears of exhaustion morphed into anger as her temper boiled over.

“You’ve been horrible to me for weeks,” she spat. “I-I want it to stop! I’m tired of having anxiety attacks every time I walk down the hall or see you in the lobby. I’m tired of you continually insulting my only friend. I don’t want any of it! Why can’t you just be nice to me?”

Tears fell down Calista’s cheeks as Milly’s anger bombarded her.

“I-I didn’t know,” Calista repeated, her words failing her. “I’m…sorry. I’m…I’m just sorry.”

“And all I had to do for that half-assed apology was kill a ten-foot-tall monster, huh?” she said, her words filled with venom. “Doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

“I-I should go. You obviously don’t want me around. Umm…thanks for saving me, M-Milly,” Calista stammered, as she started to rise to her feet.

Damn it, Milly. Anger isn’t the answer either. You saw a glimmer of kindness from her today. The spear. The deodorant. Don’t leave it there. Be the bigger person!

“Calista, wait,” Milly said, grasping Calista’s wrist before she left.

“Y-yes?” Calista answered in a whisper.

She pressed her palm gently to Calista’s cheek - the cheek she had slapped - and healed it with a quick burst of Healer’s Touch.

“Thanks for the deodorant this morning,” she said, not really knowing what to say. “It…meant a lot to me.”

Calista pressed a hand to her cheek in astonishment as her black skirt and crimson hair wafted in the breeze. “You looked like you were having a bad day.”

“I think we’ve all had a bad day. And I don’t think tomorrow will be much better.”

“No, it probably won’t be,” Calista muttered. She glanced down at Milly’s hoodie. “I have a sewing kit in my cubicle, if you need it. But I kinda dig the cutoff vibe. It gives you a real apocalyptic badass look. You…you look beautiful, Milly.”

With that, Calista turned, her face crimson, and headed for the lobby.

Milly was left alone in stunned silence.

What the hell? Is Calista…blushing?!

The Non-Canonical Aftermath:

“Good job, Phillip,” Milly praises the ogre as she leaves the set, headed for the make-up trailer to get ready for her next scene. “I could really hear your pain each time you were hit. Great acting!”

“Is not acting. Is because Author used real spears,” the ogre whines as he yanks the spears out of his chest. “Why you do that? That not mentioned in casting ad.”

“Realism is important, Phillip,” the Author explains dismissively, handing him a bag of five gold coins. “Suffering is art, as they say.”

“Is other way around,” sighs Phillip, counting out his measly pay. “Maybe me ask lawyers I smashed for workplace injury forms.”

“Woah, let’s not be hasty here, big guy,” the Author insists, suddenly very attentive. “Tell you what. How about instead, you join our production crew? We always have heavy things that need to be carried around here.”

“Really?”

“Heck, if our readers donate a little Ink, I might even be able to pay you. Maybe.”

“Then…me part of team?”

“Sure, why not?” the Author says, narrowly avoiding a production-ending lawsuit. “You can share a trailer with Goblin 42.”

Phillip glances over at Goblin 42, still wearing only in his black censor bar. The goblin grins and waves at his new roommate.

“Me…will sleep outside.”