“It’s cold.”

“Suck it up, kid.”

Three days later and the rain still hasn’t let up. We sit with our backs together under a large oak tree that still has a patchwork of yellow and orange leaves to protect us from the downpour.

I gnaw numbly on my Kind bar while the kid continues his whining.

“I really think we should find somewhere to stay for a while. It’s going to continue to get colder and we can’t stay wet.” He pauses in consideration. “I’m actually surprised neither of us have gotten sick yet.”

I’m not. The kid may not have noticed it yet, but the awakening has fundamentally altered our bodies. I don’t know if this is normal for guideverse lore, but one thing is clear—we’ve definitely become superhuman in physique as well as power.

“And why do we have to stay in the woods?” He continues. “I’m so tired of mud and brush. Can’t we spend one night in a hunting cabin or something?”

We’ve been moving slowly through the woods the last few days, leading a weaving path, dodging suburbs as we make our way back toward the city. Eventually, we will need to reemerge back into society, but I’m still worried.

The gate disappeared around midday yesterday. I don’t know if that’s because it was cleared or if some internal timer ran out. But the monsters it released are almost certainly still roaming.

Regardless, I want to keep an eye on the city. Despite the dangers it poses, it’s resource-beavy, meaning survivors will flock to it. Isolation has its advantages but it has clear disadvantages too and—at the end of the day—humans are social creatures. We will need to rejoin society eventually, if just to have that community.

“Besides. We’re almost out of food. Shouldn’t we stop somewhere to restock?”

I groan. “Okay! Okay. I hear you. Yes—we need food. Among other things. We’ll see what we can find for shelter tonight.”

I polish off my Kind bar and stuff the wrapper into my pocket as I stand and reach down to offer a hand to the kid. He takes it without hesitation, letting me pull him to his feet.

“We need to come up with some sort of game plan for going forward too. Being dry and warm will be better for that,” I add.

We continue our silent march through the underbrush, and within an hour, we’re huddled together in the tree line looking out across a small town.

“What do you think?” the kid asks. His teeth are chattering.

“I think I’ve been here before.”

He tosses me a glance. “Oh, yeah?”

“That would have been back when all the buildings were still intact, though.”

“Ah…”

Unsurprisingly, nearly half the town has been burned to the ground. Either from someone awakening to a rather violent power or from letting their power rule their violent whims. It was impossible to tell the difference once the devastation had been wrought.

“Do you see anyone?”

The kid shields his eyes with one hand as he squints, scanning the streets and windows for any sign of movement. Over the last few days traveling together, despite the mututal benefits the changes to our bodies had, it had become apparent that the kid’s body was developing in ways mine was not. Better hearing and eyesight. Better strength and stamina. Even his physical frame was growing taller and more muscular, perhaps as a means to ensure the container was fit to wield the new power he had awoken to.

“There. In the second-story window of that large building in the center.”

“The church?”

“No, the other one.”

“The city hall. Suppose that makes sense. Many of them double as disaster shelters. Can you make out how many?”

“Four… six… twelve maybe?”

“Jiminy Cricket. That’s quite a party.”

“Think there’s cake?”

“We’ll never know. We weren’t invited.”

“…Let’s crash it—”

I grab his backpack and pull him back down into the brush next to me before he can stand all the way up.

“Hold your horses, kiddo. With twelve people in one spot, there’s got to be several espers amongst them.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is. Society is too unstable right now. Groups that large only function for two reasons: one, they know each other already. And two, there’s a clear hierarchy of power. I doubt it’s a coincidence they’ve taken up in the city hall. It means whoever is in charge has reason to believe they’re safer together. Means they’re wary of strangers.”

The kid blinks at me. “You got all that from twelve people in a city hall?”

“And maybe a few episodes of The Stalking Dead.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Regardless. The point remains. We can disappear back into the woods and try to find something quieter. Something more isolated. But that means that we have to be on higher alert for someone else coming up on us. Or we can try to make contact with this unit and see if they’re friendly. If they are, they’ll likely have some form of infrastructure and necessities. There is safety in numbers, but there is also the risk of group mentality. So, what do you think?”

He stares at me, wide-eyed and shivering.

“Alright, then. Infrastructure it is.” I ruffle his hair and stand up from the underbrush. “C’mon, cowboy. Let’s go meet the flock.”