Jessie's displeased manner continued, having seen through the guise of his trick. The man performed the same maneuver again with the stick in his right hand, the flame of which grew even brighter than the first, and remained unscathed as the snuffed stick was removed from his lips. Upon seeing Jessie's scowl, Maximus tossed the sticks aside and sat down, his legs hanging off the podium.

Maximus: "Is there something wrong, miss?"

Jessie: "It's nonsense. All of it."

Maximus: "And what makes you say that?"

Maximus waved around to the crowd which continued to pour money into his donation hat, as he continued his statement with an "As you can see,"

Maximus: "Plenty of people here have witnessed my abilities. This isn't my first crowd, either, so if you'd like to take me down a peg, consider all of the witnesses to my truth."

Jessie: "It's a faulty truth, and you know it!"

With her voice raising close to a full shout, Jessie barged past the man and picked up one of the snuffed sticks. Snapping her fingers to the audience, a small metal lighter was tossed into her hands, which she used to quickly light the flame once more; performing Maximus' trick—yet even faster than he demonstrated—she was able to flawlessly replicate the same power that was said to be unique to oneself.

Which could only mean one thing—

Jessie: "It's not magic, it's science...! With enough practice, you can snuff any sized flame on this stick so long as your mouth is wet enough, you don't breathe in while the flame is within your mouth, and you remove the stick fast enough for it to not dissipate your saliva! That is all! There is nothing magical about his act!"

Crowd: "It's—"

The crowd in disbelief at her display, having clearly witnessed that the supposed unique ability Maximus held was something so easily replicated, the first person to reach for the donation hat was a small child who had tossed her only coin into the reservoir.

Girl: "You're stupid! I hate you!"

Uproar began in the tiny square of the city's festival, as an entire crowd of people, one by one, took their savings back by force, not allowing Maximus the chance to cut in and run with what he had stolen. No—it wouldn't be fair to say that he hadn't been given the chance. In truth, he had never even dared to take the chance. Jessie's cold death stare from upon the stage, in the position of the most power in this situation, bore invisible daggers against any action the man would have wished to take. Unable to confront that danger, he simply watched idly by as his scheme fell apart. 

This was another lesson taught to me about the world.

Ann: "Another gift given to us by the Monsters...Even though Humans will always be gullible, they're far more susceptible to the truth when it's shown to them."

Before the Monsters appeared, it could be said that Humans were just as gullible as they are now. The only difference had been that after the truth was shown to them, they continued to believe in their own lies, or the lies fed to them by people wishing to gain power. Perhaps it was a sense of pride, or a need to follow someone who seemed above pettiness—whatever it was, the necessity for that reaction had disappeared when the Monsters became the focal threat of the globe.

After all, what's the point in pride when you're face to face with a Monster? Why follow a leader in a world that encourages fellowship over leadership? It's much easier—far more reliable—to believe in your fellow Humans, as no one would truly wish to deceive another in a situation such as ours.

And, of course, anyone who does seek to deceive or harm others, without proper reasoning behind it—

Girl: "You're a Monster, you greedy old sack of meat!"

Such sentiments were shared even among the youngest.

If you aren't for humanity's future, you can be called nothing more than a Monster yourself. Whether that sentiment is deserved, however, isn't easy to say. For something as minor as Maximus' scheme, which only sought to catch an extra pay day from some fools—it's hard to properly compare him to a Monster that seeks only to rip one's throat out. However, there are certainly people in the world who can be called nothing more than Monsters.

For the sake of not giving mercy to those people, beyond saving, who wish just as much harm as the Monsters do—

Jessie: "You're a necessary sacrifice, Maximus. Run away from here, and clean yourself up."

Yet, mercy will always be given.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Connie: "Hey! Over here!"

Calling out to us from across the street, Connie quickly sidestepped the surrounding passerbys and made her way over to us—Steven calmly walked over without such sidestepping, simply taking heed not to bump into anyway. With an excited expression, Connie took Jessie and I by the hands and began dragging us in a different direction.

Jessie: "Oh...what is this for?"

Connie: "Lighten up, Jess! I found a guy with a camera—a working camera! And not one of those 'stand still and wait half a year' cameras—the digital kind!"

Ann: "Woah, really?! Something as rare as that?"

John: "Hm? Are those really all that rare?"

Ann: "Very! Pretty much anything non-necessary from the Future is rare! I guess it makes sense though, right? Why drop us a bunch of cassette tapes when what we really need are weapons?"

John: "D-drop?"

There was still a large chunk of the world's history I had yet to understand. Such things will be explained later on, but for now, it's important to fully recognize two important details.

The first—Our world is comprised of a frightened, weak, yet united people, holding onto the forgotten and ruined remnants of a past world, and having been given the gift of a world yet to come. With the structures, terrain, and basic knowledge of the past as our base, we hold the technology of the future as a weapon against the Monsters. Blades that had yet to be made, books that had yet to be written, electric technology the likes of which our past had never even conceived—it's safe to say that because of such a gift, by the time we actually reach the point in time it all came from, we'll be far more advanced than we rightfully should have been. What was once a simple cassette tape in one year could become a hologram fit with full stimulation in that same year—in our version of that year. The gift given to us by the future holds a promise like none other.

The second—the gifts given to us by the future are, in all honesty, nothing more than quality of life improvements. Weapons of any caliber are all equally effective on Monsters—that is to say, minimally if you don't strike a weak point. There is no fundamental difference between a sword of our past, and a gifted sword from the future, other than a personal preference. The clothes we wear, the materials we build with, the dialogue we speak with, the medicinal knowledge we've gleaned—all very useful things, but ultimately, a drop in the bucket against the Monsters. 

We're a strange blend of the present utilizing the past and the future all at once, in a losing battle against an endless supply of flesh-hungry Monsters. Without a doubt, we'd have gone extinct if it weren't for these gifts from the future. Even so, it isn't as if these gifts are a sudden win button, or even as if they're our edge against the Monsters.

Useful, but not all-powerful. That is the truth behind what we were given.

—Although, there were certain gifts that hold no practical use whatsoever, other than to simply have fun.

Connie: "There it is—Excuse me! I've brought my friends this time. How much did you say it was for some photos?"

The camera, the cassette tapes, the television screen, the endless amounts of fictional stories which hold no value other than simple entertainment, and the occasional boost in morale—these are things that can hold no candles in the Age of Monsters, even when compared with the technology of the past, and yet we continued to use them. We kept these things for centuries even though they would give us nothing more than emotional satisfaction.

In a multi-generational life-or-death war against an unbeatable enemy, you'd think that we would have prioritized strategy, efficiency, and power over something as trivial as temporary happiness. And yet, we didn't. If we were to discard these things, and focus only on survival, then what would that make us? Where would that leave us as Humans, whose greatest strength against a simple beast is that of true emotions, and the capability to adapt and change? If we stagnated, focusing only on the animalistic instinct to survive, would we be properly representing the past that was long since forgotten, or the future that so daringly believed in our prospering? 

Would we be living up to their expectations by simply surviving? Or did they send these trivial things to us so that we wouldn't forget how to be Human?

Connie: "Okay! Get the two sisters next!"

After taking a definitely-not-a-couple's-photo with Steven, Connie ushered Jessie and Ann together for the second of three pictures. With a quick and bright flash having followed the cameraman's declaration of "Smile!", the picture had been taken, printed right out of the camera, and handed off to Connie once again as she shook the image into shape.

John: "That's polaroid then, isn't it? Not digital?"

Connie: "Huh? There's a difference? I thought digitals were just ones that you don't have to wait several minutes for the image to develop..."

Cameraman: "Those are closer to daguerreotypes, miss."

Connie: "Duh-gary-oh-what?"

John: "Never mind, my fault..."

Jessie and Ann then waved everyone over for the final picture.

Ann: "Come on! I want all Freelancers accounted for! No one out!"

Jessie: "We've got one shot at this, so pick your pose now!"

John: "Ah..."

Connie and Steven ran into place, holding onto each other lovingly. If one were without context, it could easily be assumed that they were a married couple, seeing the way that Connie looking up at Steven as such. Then, Jessie stood behind and to the side of Ann, putting a hand onto her head as if to pat her, while Ann prepared to take a cutesy wink at the camera. 

These were the Freelancers, the people who had taken me in for safety purposes. It would be rude to interject on their photo, so as I slyly pulled Riley to the side—

Ann: "What the hell are you waiting for?! He's about to take the shot!"

John: "Wait, what?"

Ann: "I said 'all Freelancers', didn't I?"

Jessie: "Yes, I believe you did."

Ann: "So there!"

John: "You want me to—"

Connie: "Just get in here!"

Steven: "And bring Riley, too!"

Wrapped in his arms, Connie seemed so peaceful in these moments. It was very different from her exterior in the forest. She was protective, dangerously so, over her friends. She would eliminate any unknown entity that seemed to come close to the campsite, even a kid such as me. However, if somebody is in genuine danger at any moment, she would be ready to drop everything to have a chance at being their hero. She was a dangerous, angry, and jealous human being, but these moments of security and care were her favorites.

Steven was almost the opposite of her, preferring to save everyone no matter what. He had put his group in danger to help me, where I could have been any other lunatic or shapeshifting monster, and slaughtered them all. He took a hunch, and it paid off, and it showed in his smile how grateful he was for that choice.

Ann was unique from the rest of her group, both for her haunting nature and how she carried herself through every situation. She always put on a cheery exterior, looking for the best in every crisis, but she was more clever than that optimistic facade. Ann had perfected her abilities as a ghost; she knew a lot about the monsters within the Great Barrier and the life that surrounds them.

Jessie, the honorable leader of the group, was the strongest in wits and tactics. Cold, merciful, clever, and adverse. She was somebody that I was glad to call an ally. She treated us like family, and we tried our best to return the favor.

...

And then, there was John. The final member to the Freelance Gang of the Great Barriers.

There, engraved into their history forever, he took his stance being held onto by the winking Ann, as her younger sister Jessie patted the both of their heads with a warm smile. With his pet wolf, Riley, the beast was sat in front of him with a large grin, happy to have a family. And, beside him, were the two people who had put all of their trust in his performance—Connie and Steven—who seemed almost like role models for the trivial thing called love.

As it was so—

Ann Leider

Jessie Leider

Steven Shomer

Connie Kaze

Riley Ordano

John Ordano