"You are looking fearsome, comrade! I'm glad you decided to join," Dmitriy called out as he walked over the grass outside of the town walls up to Jim, both men wearing a mix of military issued clothes and armor, combined with a few pieces of their own.

"Right back at ya, bud," Jim shot back with a grin as he clapped Dmitriy on the back, then held his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun. "I think that's our Sergeant over there. Shall we?"

"You know, I did have my doubts, what with Dericka coming over and sharing her concerns," Jim said as they walked.

"She spoke to me as well," Dmitriy replied, lips thinning as he recalled the conversation.

He had not been pleased to learn that she had refused the opportunity to take the Party out on a Quest. It seemed she still hadn't understood the truth of this new world, that strength equaled power. They needed to fight to get stronger. With her refusal of the Quest, his best option was now to take on missions as a soldier to continue gathering Value and honing his skills.

But after their losses in the previous zone, Dericka did not seem ready to accept that. She'd pleaded for him to stay in the Party and be patient, her previous confidence replaced by something like despair. The way she'd looked at him reminded of a time when he'd broken up with an overly clingy girlfriend, a hurt and fearful look that made him uncomfortable. Had she lost all of her pride?

"I don't want to sound dismissive of her; she still has my respect. But they are just suspicions, ya know? Long as she doesn't have any proof, I'd rather give these folks the benefit of the doubt," he said, adjusting the sheath of his sword so it would stop poking against his knee. "Besides, now that I've found my daughter, I need to put a roof over her head and food in her belly, right? After they kicked us out, it was either soldiering or going back to sleeping in a tent."

Dmitriy gave an understanding grunt, then focused on the person ahead of them who'd be leading them on this mission. Sergeant Pitt was a textbook example of a soldier: fit, straight-backed and clean-shaven, with a professional demeanour. He wore a modern army outfit. The only things that stood out as a sign of the times were the old-fashioned weaponry: a quiver of arrows and bow over his shoulder and short sword on his hip.

"Good morning, specialists. Glad to see you're well on time. At ease. The others should be arriving shortly and then we'll be on our way. It's a simple viridian-grade hunting mission, so we won't need to requisition any special gear."

Dmitriy wasn't sure why they insisted on using more complicated words, but he understood that to mean 'dark green' in army speak.

Four other soldiers arrived shortly after and introduced themselves. None of them were very young and they all seemed composed instead of nervous, which he took as a sign of experience. Two carried bow and arrow with the other two handling long spears. Everyone was ready and they were good to set out.

But then, right as they were about to leave, Captain Garfield ran up and gestured to their Sergeant for a word. The two men stepped far enough away that they couldn't hear, but they all watched as the Captain handed their Sergeant a piece of paper, which he accepted with some hesitation.

"What in the hell could the Captain want right before we're setting off?" One of the privates said quietly. Dmitriy thought his name was Garcia.

"Whatever it is, it can't be anything good," another one replied as he ran his fingers down the sides of his goatee. "Look at Pitt's face."

The Sergeant read the paper handed to him with a growing frown, then looked up slowly back to the Captain and asked something. From how briefly the Captain's lips moved, it was clear that the answer was very short.

Dmitriy frowned in confusion, looking over at Jim who shrugged. The argument continued until the Captain finally seemed to bark out some orders, to which the Sergeant snapped off a salute. Dmitriy thought he saw the Captain glaring at him as the man walked off, though he couldn't imagine why.

"What the hell…" Garcia whispered.

It was with an expression of restrained anger that Sergeant Pitt walked back to them, crumpling the paper in his fist before shoving it in his pocket.

"Last minute change of orders, gentlemen. We're to embark on a gathering mission. Some kind of herb, a few zones over," he paused to swallow, face serious. "Citrine rank."

There were sharp intakes of breath as the privates exchanged wide-eyed looks.

"Sir, we don't even have any guns," Garcia protested.

"My request for firearms was denied by the Captain. I requested a mobile MAFT, then tried for a Fixer Upper, but both were denied. All items are apparently in use."

"Sir, respectfully, what the hell is going on? Did you do anything to get on Captain Garfield's bad side?" Goatee asked.

Sergeant Pitt just shook his head.

"I don't know, Davis, but what I do know is that we have our orders. It's three zones over so let's get going. No use dragging our feet."

After the final protests were shut down, they set out and marched in silence, most of the privates having a defeated look on their face. In normal circumstances, Dmitriy would have tried to lift the mood with inspiring stories of bravery, but the Sergeant set a blistering pace which had him nearly out of breath.

He looked over his Stats, wishing there was an option for Endurance.

Tier 4 (Next: 1000)

Stats

Strength: 16

Durability: 20

Speed: 10

Senses: 10

Intelligence: 10

PE Capacity: 100 KJ

Abilities

[Reduce Momentum]

[Anchor]

Unallocated Value: 140

Value allocated to Stats: 220

Value allocated to Abilities: 240

Value spent on items: 0

It had taken the deadly failure in the yellow zone to finally convince himself that he should bring not just his Senses and Speed up to 10, but also his Intelligence.

A timely use of [Reduce Momentum] would have saved lives there, but his reaction speed had been too slow. A critical mistake, one that had cost lives. It was a humbling experience which only confirmed that he needed more training. How could he call himself a man, if he couldn't even keep his Party alive?

After being sent flying like puppets by that massive gremlin, Jim and him had both gotten the [Anchor] Ability. It could be triggered on both people and objects, and it would immediately exert a downward force, as if the object was much heavier than it actually was. They wouldn't be moved quite as easily anymore with that Ability in hand.

He was inclined to invest his remaining Value into Durability, though he decided to first ask some questions of his new squad mates. They might have good information to share.

As it turned out, Sergeant Pitt had already planned to bring Jim and Dmitriy up to speed on basic military tactics during downtime, including running through basic squad formations.

"Standard doctrine is to focus on Strength and Speed, with the exception of scouts who should bring up Senses instead of Strength. The idea is that defense can be covered effectively through armor, so Durability is not a priority. As for Intelligence, well, we leave that one for the strategists and higher-ups."

Dmitriy frowned at the easy dismissal of his beloved Stat, but remained silent as the Sergeant moved onto Abilities.

"Old squad tactics are partially maintained in that we prefer to seek cover and eliminate targets from a distance. That means we mostly end up using Momentum based Abilities, with nearly everyone getting the 'pane' version of [Accelerate Object], which works well on both arrows and bullets, and if you use it well it can even add a boost to a spear thrust. Our defensive specialists usually get [Reflect Momentum] or [Reduce Momentum], which I understand both of you have?"

"Yes sir, we do," Jim confirmed as Dmitriy nodded along.

"Good. Alright then, let's run some formations."

Between the brisk marching which took up most of the day and the formation practice when they set up camp, Dmitriy was exhausted as he got into his bedroll. During the first day, they only ran into a few beasts, as the zones closest to New Haven were hunted every day.

The next day, as they slogged through a swampy dark green zone, was when Dmitriy first got to see the squad in action, impressed at how quickly Sergeant Pitt spotted and reacted to threats.

"Beasts at nine and twelve. Take aim. Use accelerate. Loose," he snapped out the orders as he went through the motions himself, only taking a second or two to equip his bow and nock an arrow.

It looked like the arrows started off too low to be able to hit the far-off armadillos, but then they passed through the invisible pane that activated [Accelerate Object]. Without a sound they sped up into a blur, blasting through the armadillo's thick skin to deal terrible damage. A single, well-aimed hit was enough to take one of the creatures down. With three archers, none of the beasts even got close to their squad.

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Dmitriy was glad of it as he looked one of the corpses over. The beasts looked strong; large and thickly muscled, especially in their oversized, spiked tails. It would have been awkward for him to deal with if they'd swipe those long tails along the ground, slipping below his shield unless he bent over.

They continued to set a good pace and after a final night camping out on the edges of a swamp, they would finally enter the yellow zone where the goal of their mission was. Before they did, Dmitriy decided to put his remaining Value in seven points of additional Durability, but opted to focus five of those points on only his arms. From what he'd learned, the effect would be much stronger if focused on a smaller area as opposed to the standard option of reinforcing the body as a whole, though it would obviously lead to imbalances in the body. But with his heavy mace and the impacts he had to suffer through the shield, it was mostly the bones and joints of his arms that needed the additional Durability.

He didn't have the chance to test out the effect before they reached their goal. The yellow zone was not what anyone had hoped for: a jungle full of thick foliage that promised low visibility.

"The map shows the mark further in, so we'll head north along the border before cutting through the brush," Sergeant Pitt called out.

Their speed slowed as they moved more cautiously along the edge of the jungle. Everyone was on edge; heads jerking around and hands moving to weapons at the slightest sound. But after a few hours of trudging by the border, they inevitably had to head straight into the jungle.

Jim and Dmitriy moved at the front next to two spearmen, pushing branches aside with their shields as the others used their blades to cut a path through the jungle. They progressed haltingly, pausing often to listen for sounds of beasts and scan for any signs of the herb they were looking for. The Sergeant had shared the image; it was a flower with white leaves surrounding a bright purple bulb, so it should be easy enough to spot between the greens and browns of the forest.

Relief passed through the squad when the foliage began to thin out, though Dmitriy remained tense. There were still no signs of beasts, which brought back dark memories of the last yellow zone he'd found himself in. Perhaps the beasts were more clever from this rank on, waiting in ambush instead of charging in blindly. It was a worrying thought, and Dmitriy kept his shield tight and his eyes sharp as he scanned the bushes.

"Sergeant, could that be it?" Garcia said quietly, pointing ahead at a thin corridor between the trees where the ground sloped down.

"Looks promising," the Sergeant said with a nod. "Let's move closer."

No matter how he squinted, Dmitriy could not make out what they were talking about. It was only when they got a bit closer that he could faintly make out the white leaves and purple bulb of the flower they were looking for.

"Alright, let's get into harvesting formation as we discussed. Garcia, you get the flowers. Davis, you take the-"

Something flashed from the trees and then Garcia was on the ground with a green beast on top of him. Dmitriy moved to help but the Sergeant was faster, lunging forward with his short sword. His stab skittered off something hard - it had a shield, like a turtle - so Dmitriy put his weight behind his shield and slammed into the beast. There was a hard impact and then it was scrabbling to its feet, the Sergeant pulling a gurgling Garcia back as he called out.

"Close formation! Take aim! Use accelerate! Go!"

Dmitriy caught a glimpse of blood leaking through Garcia's fingers as his hand pressed against his neck, then his attention was forward as they closed in a circle around the wounded soldier. The beast was already charging again. It looked like a cross between a leopard and a turtle, covered in tough green skin yet moving with speed and deadly grace. A narrower, elongated version of a turtle's shield covered its torso and Dmitriy watched with shock as it made use of it.

The moment the first arrow was shot it reacted, somehow fitting four long legs and a large head with a sharp beak into its shell in a single instant. Its onward momentum pushed the shell forward in a slide as the arrowhead stuck into it, the shaft splintering from the impact. Then, just as fast as they'd withdrawn, its limbs and head popped out again and it leapt forward. Jim caught it on his shield and a spear shot out, but it failed to get a clean hit as once again it was too fast to turtle up.

"Another one on our six!" An urgent shout came from behind.

"Diamond formation!" The Sergeant snapped. Dmitriy blinked, realizing that meant he had to move back, then turned and stepped over a pale-skinned Garcia, his face a mask of fear and despair as the Sergeant tried to attach a pressurized bandage to his neck. But there was no time to pause as a cursing spear wielder was trying to keep another beast at bay.

Dmitriy saw it crouch, setting up for a leap, so he shouldered Davis aside as he brought his shield up. He lifted his mace and opened the Ability overlay right as the beast impacted his shield, then swung down. Just like the other one, it popped into its shell, so Dmitriy activated [Anchor] on his mace as he followed through on a massive downward swing.

He was grateful for the extra Durability in his arms as his mace came down like a comet and impacted with a loud crack. The shell broke and folded inwards as the mace landed, the insides pulping and splintering into a green and red mess.

"Beast down!" Davis called out as Dmitriy put his foot against the ruined shell to wrench the bloody mace loose, splinters of shell and bits of gore falling from between its stubs.

Nice Kill!

Total Value awarded: 20

Value allocated to Party wallet: 10 (50%)

Remaining Value allocated to personal wallet: 10

After some more grunts and curses from the other side, there was another call that the beast was down. They remained tightly in formation, waiting to see if another beast would show up. But the jungle remained blissfully still, so after a while Davis spoke up hesitantly.

"Your orders, sir?"

There was a weary sigh from inside the circle.

"Garcia is gone," Sergeant Pitt said. The news was followed by a long, painful silence.

"Should… Should we retreat, sir?" Another silence.

"No," the Sergeant said, barely audible, then repeated himself more loudly and confidently. "No. We have our orders. It's still possible to complete our mission. We'll move on to harvesting. One flower at a time inside of a diamond formation."

Dmitriy understood the hesitation but did not disagree with the decision. They were one man down, but retreating would not bring him back. He'd been taken down mostly due to the surprise element, while the other two beasts had not managed to injure them. It was not reckless to proceed, he thought, though it certainly wasn't safe either.

They proceeded with caution, eyes on the jungle as they remained in formation, Dmitriy and Jim positioned on either side, facing towards the bushes and flanked by a spearman as a single person harvested flowers inside. Working in this way, they managed to harvest only two flowers before the next attack came and took them apart.

The strange beasts were predators through and through, moving lightning-fast when they spotted an opportunity. A sign of movement had Dmitriy snapping his shield up only just in time to stop a jagged beak from closing around his throat.

The edge of his shield knocked the beast's head up and then it pulled back so that only its shell hit his shield. He brought his eyes back to the forest instead of committing to a strike, keeping his shield up and kicking the shell away as it landed. A rustling sound had him pivoting to the left to catch the next beast. This time he was ready, bending his left leg and tilting his shield to bash out and up, knocking the beast away from their squad.

A scream of pain from behind had him snapping his head around, but then a claw hitting his leg brought his attention right back. The beast flinched back from a spear and Dmitriy activated [Anchor] again as he smashed his mace down. Right as he broke through the shell, killing the beast, another leapt from his now open right side. He only had time to tuck in his chin and raise his shoulder, which turned a potentially lethal bite into a mere flesh wound as it snapped its beak closed around his shoulder.

Dmitriy roared as he twisted to the right, bringing his shield around to knock the beast off. It landed on its back, limbs withdrawn, but Davis was ready and struck with his spear, piercing right into the larger hole that its head had hidden in.

Free from immediate threat, he looked around, only now able to take stock of the situation. One of the archers was down, bleeding from his arm and leg. Sergeant Pitt and the other spearman were busy fending off two more of the beasts. As he watched, Jim was bent over to pull his blood-covered sword free from a shell when a beast crashed into his side.

Realizing their formation was broken anyway, Dmitriy took two steps and kicked out at the beast. Jim cried out in pain and Dmitriy saw the torn armor and gaping flesh it left behind as it withdrew, before he lunged after it and swung down with another [Anchor] empowered mace strike. There was another squelching crack as the shock reverberated through his arm and then he turned back, panting.

Jim was getting to his feet, clutching at his side, so he helped him up before rushing over to assist the Sergeant and spearman with the final beast. When that one was finally skewered on a spear, the Sergeant looked them over with a grim expression.

"One dead, three wounded," he nodded as he spat to the side. "Our mission has been compromised. We'll administer first aid and then retreat."

The wound on his shoulder stung, but it hadn't torn any tendons and the pressure bandage should stop the bleeding after a while. Jim was in much worse shape. The beast had taken a small chunk out right below his ribs and it was bleeding heavily. They pushed in a piece of cloth and wrapped it well, Jim keeping his hand on to apply pressure.

There was something about their sharp, jagged beaks that inflicted terrible, bleeding wounds. Dmitriy got away with a superficial wound, which he thought was likely due to his high Durability. The bleeding in the archer's arm and leg was so bad that they did not manage to properly stop it, but they had no choice but to move on, fearing another attack.

Knowing that they needed to get out of this zone as soon as possible, they left Garcia's corpse behind. It wasn't hard to retrace their path, but with Jim and the archer limping, their pace was much slower than before.

Tired and wounded, they were slower to react to the next ambush. There were only two beasts, one of which managed to tear out their spearman's throat with its first lunge. Jim caught the other one on his shield, but the effort had him bending over in pain, unable to avoid another bite wound to the leg before Dmitriy crushed the beast under his mace.

Too slow, he told himself. Once again, I was too slow.

There was a moment of grim silence as they looked over and bandaged the wound, a shared understanding that there was nothing more to do but carry on. They continued to retreat through the thick brush, slowed down even further, until the archer finally collapsed from blood loss. Dmitriy pulled him up by the arm, intending to carry him on his shoulder, but the Sergeant stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and a shake of the head.

"There's no point. You'll only get yourself killed," he said with steely certainty.

Only Dmitriy, Jim, Davis and Sergeant Pitt were left then, expressions bleak but eyes focused as they plodded on. Jim was looking increasingly pale as he stubbornly limped on. Not another word was spoken as everyone understood the grim situation they were in. The only thing to do was to keep moving, even if it was at a snail's pace.

The next attack was only a single one of the beasts, but perhaps because it was drawn by blood, it leapt straight for Jim. There was only a slight rustle of leaves as a warning and then it was hanging from his sword arm, jagged beak sunk deep into the muscle, before they knocked it off and the Sergeant stabbed it furiously through its neckhole until it stopped moving.

Once again, Dmitriy felt helpless, cursing his inability to move faster. It was yet another horrible wound, which was quickly bandaged in silence, the sounds of heavy breathing and an occasional grunt of pain the only thing they could hear. On they went once that was done, Dmitriy stubbornly supporting his friend as they pushed through the bushes.

They made it right up to the edge of the swamp zone before Jim collapsed.

Dmitriy felt hollow and powerless as he crouched down and bent over his friend to hold up his head. His skin was icy cold despite the warm air and his breathing was shallow. He tried to catch Jim's eye, to allow him some form of comfort, even if just to let him know he was not alone. He'd expected some final words, perhaps him asking Dmitriy to care for his daughter, but the man only looked confused as his unseeing eyes drifted in circles, until he finally went still.

Dmitry shut his eyes as he swallowed down a wave of sadness and impotent rage.

Again and again, he was too slow. Too slow to save Robert from the centipede bite. Too slow to get up [Reduce Momentum] in the yellow zone. Too slow today, to shield Jim from the beasts' vicious bites.

He thought he'd known strength. Now, he wanted to spit at his past self, to tear him down and punch at his face, that boastful idiot who'd called himself a strong warrior and had proclaimed he'd protect everyone. What a fool he had been. A weak, ignorant fool.

What more did he have to do? How many Stat points and Abilities would be enough, to finally be able to protect his friends?

He had cause even to regret his Durability build. It had kept him alive, yes, but time after time, his friends just kept falling around him.

His father had told him once, that he would know what it meant to be strong once he had children of his own. At the time, he hadn't taken his meaning, but now, filled with bitter regret, he finally realized what the man had meant.

Taking care of oneself is easy. It's protecting those around you that takes real strength.

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