<Alex, Real - All Dead? Is It Permanent?, 5th Floor of a Burnt Out Art Gallery>

Alex glared at the three hammer-crests—undead of course—standing between them and a clearly infected young man.

He was thrashing on the ground, black veins slowly growing across his skin.

Alex had been the first through the door, and he'd hesitated only an instant. "Infected, not turned yet. Cover me!"

He sprinted forward, eliciting a bellow of challenge from the three hammer-crests.

John pulled one gun, even as he knelt to lower the woman he bore, gently to the ground.

Natasha and Grant exclaimed in surprise, but were barely behind Alex in his mad dash forward.

Alex didn't care that there wasn't anything obviously around to cause infection.

He didn't care that this timing was, yet again, like something he'd expect in a video game.

His Analyze had been clear.

Henry, Initiate Turning

He didn't even care that the results were completely out of the norm for his use of the skill. He'd take the information he could get. "Fight it, Henry! We're coming!"

The young man didn't seem to hear him, but Alex didn't care about that either.

He could save this boy, and he would do so.

He dropped in a slide that would make any major-league baseball player proud, barely going under the first swing of a massive, wooden hammer.

A second one slammed into the ground right behind him as he curled up, letting his lead foot catch and help pop him back to his feet.

The third swing caught his arm as he tried to dive out of the way, but his coat padded the impact enough that, along with his dive and roll, it did little more than toss him toward the ground where the boy lay.

It would likely bruise, but for now, it didn't matter.

Grant and Natasha each let out things between battle cries and screams of desperation as they engaged two of the three.

John's shots rang out again and again as he targeted the hands and arms of the three creatures, only having limited success.

Alex used Blood Transfusion, sending a small amount of his blood—laden with health and Life—into the boy's heart with a command to drive back the turning curse.

It worked, the blood arrived… apparently just at the wrong time.

The change in volume within the heart caused it to stutter rather than beating properly, at least if the sudden rigidity in the body was any indication—a stiffening and jerking over and beyond that which had been obvious from him fighting the turning.

Alex cursed, the altered words not even registering, as he slammed his fist into the boy's chest, trying to remember what little CPR he'd been taught.

Thankfully, a moment later—whether due to the hard hit to the chest or not—the boy relaxed, his muscles unclenching, and it seemed that Alex's Life and health were carried throughout the body in a wave.

He could sense his own Life, at least a bit, and it did seem to be spreading out, engaging the undeath from the inside.

He would have laid a hand on Henry and sent in more health to help, but at that moment, the third hammer-crest arrived, and Alex had to deal with that first.

His Traveler's Shoes found purchase on the otherwise grim and filth-covered floor, his dadao came back into his hand from his Inventory—he didn't even remember sending it there, but that hardly mattered—and he lunged forward, chopping upward into the hands that held the descending weapon.

The hammer-crest—undead though it was—clearly had experience in combat, because it saw the incoming threat and pulled the strike inward, trying to keep its own hands safe as well as track its target to successfully land a hit of its own.

In that one, prolonged second, Alex extended his own blade further and further out, weakening the strike so as to not waste it, and the hammer-crest compressed inward, stealing power in order to do the same.

The result was almost comical.

First, the pommel of the great hammer was jerked into the stomach of its wielder, eliciting a surprised, wheezing gasp.

Second, the hammer head landed on Alex's shoulder with far less than the usual force, but it still caused his bones to groan and sent a ripple of pops down his back, several things obviously being forced out of alignment in a monumentally painful manner. Still, it was better than the bone-crushing—or, worse, skull-crushing—blow that it should have been.

Third, Alex's dadao hit the hammer haft just above the hammer-crest's fingers before scraping downward, somehow guided by Alex's carving skill—even if not as much as his Great Blades one—to help it cut deeper and more smoothly through the wood… and through undead flesh.

With a breathless roar, the hammer-crest jerked back, dropping its hammer and holding up ravaged stumps of hands that ended at the top of each palm.

Alex let out his own sound of pain, though it was closer to a whimper than a roar as muscles all across his back triggered subconsciously, trying to correct the misalignment that the hammer blow had created.

They failed, but rather than acquiescing to that failure, they simply pulled harder, moving quickly into the range of a charlie-horse that beat a staccato tattoo from within his flesh, rendering him momentarily insensate.

When his mind began to clear—mainly so that it could emphasize to him just how much pain he was in—it was just in time for him to watch the now-headless undead hammer-crest collapsing forward, directly on top of him.

It knocked him backward before he could pull enough cognizance together to ash to body. Even once that was done, he struggled to get his feet under him as he stumbled backward, his very back fighting him and refusing to work as he needed it too.

As such, he fell backward, landing hard on his backside and jarring his back once more. Alex whimpered involuntarily, even as he collapsed to his side, writhing and trying desperately to address the roiling cramps.

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At the best, it felt like someone punching him randomly in the back, his elevated strength adding to the force of each uncontrolled contraction.

His body simply wouldn't obey him, and so he did the only thing he could think of. He turned inward, seeking peace of mind even if peace of body was out of reach.

He leaned heavily on his martial training, both real and that which had been added to his head for this Apology Tutorial scenario.

He began 'box-breathing' with almost no effort, drawing in air, holding it, exhaling, and holding empty lungs each for an equal length of time.

As he did this, he stuffed every pain, every thought, everything into the imagined box, trying both to contain it and get it away.

To his surprise, it worked better than it ever had before, allowing him to begin to claw his way across the floor, back toward the Initiate who likely still needed his help.

His body spasmed, and he forced his mind to focus on the meditative technique, practically begging for it to help him keep his mind from the pain. More than that, though, he felt something resonating within him, something that he was pretty sure had never been there before, at least not any previous time he'd meditated.

He slapped a hand down on Henry, sending HP through the contact to fight undeath and heal the Initiate, adding to his HP and Life already in the boy's system. That done, he turned toward what his meditative mindset was seeming to reveal, hoping that increasing his focus would decrease the pain.

He was about to delve deeper when Natasha's voice jerked him free, breaking his concentration. "Alex! What's wrong? What can I do?"

That, of course, brought his pain cascading back to the forefront. "Back… charlie-horse… everywhere."

To her credit, she didn't roll her eyes at him. Instead, she immediately started to work at stripping off his coat. When he noticed that, he pulled it into his inventory, and she helped to flip him face down, irrespective of the filth on the floor.

A moment later, the presence of four hands searching out and addressing his spasming muscles showed that either John or Grant had joined Natasha.

Over the next minutes, the two worked across Alex's back bringing relief so overwhelming he almost started to cry.

When his back had stopped trying to kill him from within, Alex was surprised by a sudden weight pressing down in the middle of his back. Before he could react, the pressure intensified, followed by a rippling series of pops as his spine realigned, bringing an involuntary gasp of relief from him.

Grant's voice came, then. "Better?"

Alex nodded against the floor. "Thank you, yes. That was… that was awful."

Grant patted him on the back. "I had some buddies who used to have their backs go out on site. They didn't like doctors, so we figured out how to help them ourselves."

Natasha laughed. "Men… Just get the help you need."

Grant replied easily. "Oh, yes, heaven forbid men help each other."

There was a playfulness to the tone, but the message was clear enough even so. Natasha took a moment to respond. "Fair enough."

Alex groaned before pushing himself to his feet. His back now felt pretty fantastic, actually, and that irked him.

He felt like it should be aching and sore after the abuse it had suffered, but instead his high Physical Fortitude meant that he was fine, now that the active source of pain and disjointment had been dealt with.

He grumbled under his breath for a moment before shaking his head and truly looking around himself.

His companions were a bit battered, but the three undead hammer-crests were down. He staggered over, his stride steadying with each step, until he reached the first and ashed it, doing the same to the second with surer movements. The third had already been dealt with before he fell to the floor.

He then returned to where his friends surrounded the boy—young man, really—on the floor.

"Thank you, Natasha." He made eye contact with the woman and nodded.

She smiled back. "My husband used to get those in the middle of the night. I'm happy to help."

He turned to Grant. "Thank you as well."

The younger man shrugged. "Glad I could help. Things like that can be brutal if you don't know how to address them."

John cleared his throat. "I'd have helped, but there wasn't exactly room, and someone needed to keep an eye out."

Alex chuckled. "Well, thank you for that, too."

The older man nodded.

"So, do any of you need healing?"

They all shifted and stretched, checking themselves, then each other. In the end, they decided that, no, they'd be alright.

Alex nodded, grateful to not have to spend the mana. Even with more limited usage, his mana wasn't in a great place.

"Let me know if that changes. I have plenty of health, but my mana is down to half."

John nodded. "We've got to get these two out of here."

As if his words had been a summons, they each received a notice.

Hidden Quest, Complete! All dead? Is it permanent?

You've reached the heart of another team's base and have found no evidence of living Initiates. Discover the fate of the fallen or fled, and help if you can.

Rewards: Experience Supplies Items Depending on Result

Initiates' Fate Discovered: 6/6

3/6 Dead, Permanent 2/6 Turned, Un-Turned 1/6 Turning, Prevented, Alive

Rewards Incoming

There was a collective frown, but it was Grant that put the feeling to voice. "That's never really happened before… Rewards Incoming?"

At his words—because apparently the System likes dramatic timing—they each staggered backward, experience seeming to blossom into being within them, roughly equivalent to what they'd earned during their entire fight up through the floors.

At the same time, four points of light came into being, each near to one of the standing Initiates, growing in size and brightness until they formed clear cubes, each containing an item.

Apology Tutorial Notice To open containment boxes and retrieve what is inside—for good or ill—simply insert your mana into the exterior and navigate the pathways until you reach the trigger point within. This will cause the containment to dissipate, releasing what is held within, whether priceless treasure or deadly trap disguised as the same.

That was how they were supposed to open the clear boxes? Really?

Still, Alex saw the message for what it was. The System—or someone directing the System—had used this reward to explain how they could open the other boxes as well.

He felt himself grinning.

Still, even as they were processing the new information, Natasha shook her head, speaking up. "Well, this is a surprise, but a pleasant one. We just need to get back home with everyone, and this will have been a resounding success."

Continuing the trend of their words triggering System interactions, a new quest notice appeared.

Hidden Quest, Sequential Return to Safety

You now know what happened to your fellow Initiates, and you've even saved some of them, but none of you are safe.

Return with the survivors to your own base.

Rewards: Experience Companions Depending on Result

Surviving Initiates Returned to Safety: 0/8?

"And then a custom set of armor appeared for each of them." Grant looked around, seemingly hoping that he could get the System to trigger again.

John and Natasha chuckled and snorted a laugh respectively.

Alex was focused on something else, though. He frowned, rewards momentarily forgotten. "Why are we included in those needing safety, and what's with the question mark at the end of the new quest?"

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