Julia finally broke. The reality of their new world crashed through her carefully maintained denial, bringing her to her knees outside the dungeon's entrance. This wasn't a game. This was their reality now—an apocalypse that had claimed countless lives.

  Having a breakdown in the middle of a jungle near a dungeon they’d just exited wasn’t the best place for such existential realizations. If there was a good place for such things.

  Sarah wrapped an arm around the younger girl, holding her close as she shook with sobs. They could have been sisters in that moment, Sarah's fierce protectiveness showing in her eyes as she guided their water mage through her grief.

  She whispered about all the lost people—about their families—about her family, whom she hadn’t seen since moving out for college a year ago.

  Unfortunately, they had no time to sit and process what was happening. Colt stuffed away his cloak and looked at the two women.

  Julia’s eyes were red; the pain was stark on her face. But she understood and had shoved it all down for now; it was time for action.

  “S-sorry for everything,” she said, her voice trembling as she spoke.

  “We’ve all dealt with this in our own ways, hush now. Just focus on keeping your mind sharp. We’re going to follow Nate; he’s going to lead us back to the city.”

  Julia gave a small head bob—and then looked at her feet, letting Sarah take her hand.

  “We ready?” Nate asked, sharp eyes taking in the group, “We don’t know what we’ll encounter in New Nashville, and we have intelligence we’re not meant to know. The key is to forget all we learned, and play things by ear.” He laid the story out plainly, and made eye contact with Sarah and Julia—Sarah agreed for them.

  Colt shrugged his shoulders when their eyes turned his way.

  Yeah, ignorance was the best course of action. What mostly concerned him was how their friend had held up in that place—and, long-term, if their best course of action was to stay in New Nashville to begin with.

  He had loved this city, despite how it felt to love it while broke and barely surviving. The cast-off remains of people in New Nashville had the same spirit and energy. They wanted a community, a safety net to keep them safe, and to let what had remained of the world before the System hit thrive again in their own place.

  He thought of the pancake bar—and the sweet old man who sold him coffee every morning; those were the core of New Nashville, those dedicated to trying to inject a little bit of joy and life into a people scared and terrified by what had happened. He’d loved Nashville, and he thought maybe he could’ve grown to love New Nashville, too. As he looked at Julia, shivering next to Sarah, he couldn’t help but see those same powerless people doing their best to survive. Given they weren’t level-pumped-up water mages—they still were people trying their best despite the fear.

  With everyone’s confirmation, Nate led them away from the clearing in the jungle where the Adventure Science Zone hid and back into the concealing shroud of the jungle around it.

  Now, outside of the dungeon, Colt saw some resemblance to the interior here in the outside world—the fronds and plants growing were almost cousins to those on the forest floor; they had a slightly darker hue to them, their green about five shades from the black that he’d grown used to over the last week or so.

  If one looked at the trees—they appeared almost a little too big, and their bark and texture weren’t far off from the massive behemoths that had dwelled within… About a block from the Science Zone, the vegetation gradually changed once more, becoming the deciduous-type forest that had invaded the rest of the city after the System hit.

  It was as if the dungeon was leaking monsters and itself into the land around it—almost like an Edict manifesting in the world, spreading its reality around like poison into the world.

  Colt ruminated on the thought as they reached proper Nashville, with broken buildings attacked by wildlife and streets ruined by gnarled roots and uncaring nature.

  With the thick mist in the air, sneaking through the city was easy; they kept to the sides of the streets, running across a couple of monsters that were easy to avoid. Right now, the goal wasn’t confrontation; given the lack of visibility, they could afford to move at a fast clip.

  The mist clung to them as they moved through the broken city, past shattered windows and street strangled by the new nature. Nashville's familiar landmarks stood in unfamiliar places, like pieces of a child's playset scattered by a careless hand. A café where an office building should be, residential blocks sprouting from former downtown streets—recognizable pieces arranged in randomized patterns. Ending up with generally the same Nashville, but not.

  Colt shook his head as they moved and focused on the task. His mind tried to distract him and solve a problem without enough information.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  So he didn’t worry.

  They pressed forward through the rest of the city.

  When they arrived in New Nashville, there was a marked change. Three times the usual number of guards were stationed outside of it, and their levels were higher, too. About half of them were in their high thirties, patrolling with new weapons. When they saw Colt and his group appear from the fog, they moved in like a coordinated military, weapons rearing to go. Ten total came up, doing their best to look tough with puffed-up chests and hands on weapons, like they expected trouble.

  Colt snorted. One use of Cut would’ve taken most of them out without much extra effort.

  “Citizenship cards,” the highest level among them insisted. Their de facto leader had a no-nonsense attitude in his expression.

  Colt brought his out, first among the group, he made sure to stand between them and these bruisers. Not that he didn’t think any of his party could handle themselves against these guys, but if push came to shove, Colt didn’t want them to have blood on their hands.

  “This document lacks Citizen Class?” he said, running over it, “Where were you this week?

  Colt raised an eyebrow. “Citizen Class? We were in a dungeon.”

  “New order from the office of governor, all citizens are to be assigned a class grade to determine responsibilities and privileges. Privileges such as leaving the city without an escort. Given your level, though…that lines up with your story. Right. You’re one of the last couple of straggler dungeon groups still waiting to come in. Governors’ office told us one would be showing up soon.”

  “There are people inside who can’t leave?”

  “Monsters and bandits around New Nashville have stepped up their activity. We have to protect those weaker than us. Until the situation is resolved, only those with the correct citizen grade are allowed out. If they wanna leave, they can join the army.”

  They were saying the same thing, but this guy was saying it like it was natural and good—the danger was one thing. But this was control for the sake of control. Colt looked at the American flag flying not too far away, the supposed ideal of freedom that this city strove for. “Right. Well, yeah, we’re a dungeon team. We weren’t aware of any changes such as ‘citizen class.’”

  The guard nodded and gestured to the rest of his squad. All of them, except for him, started to jog back to their posts.

  “A lot of guards now,” Colt said.

  “This is an off hour, too. We got a whole bunch more. With the new citizenship grades, pay scales, and other incentives, a lot more people are finding good government jobs.” The guard scratched his head. “Though, not all of us make it. Mandatory training every day is dangerous. But we need to raise our levels, so it is what it is. Considering we hear stories about another guy dying every day…” He trailed off and shook his head.

  He continued, “Anyway, strict orders: as a returning dungeon diving group without a Citizen Grade, your team will make your way directly to the White House. The Governor and his Cabinet have given express orders for all remaining dungeon divers in the field to do so on their return. I’ll make sure you get there and get checked in.”

  Colt looked at the stadium beyond the man; within it were tucked all the people who called this place home—people who had a few fewer freedoms than they’d had when they left.

  What else had changed?

  Colt took in his allies. Julia was still shaking, and Sarah and Nate returned his stare with a silent agreement: They would do what he thought best.

  Considering Jimmy was still in there… Well, Colt knew what he had to do. “Lead the way,” he said, giving the guard a fake smile.

  The man returned it and then turned on his heel, letting them follow. This time, the rest of the guards didn’t give them a second glance. They wound through the tunnels of the outer stadium, which, this Colt noticed, was more fortified than before, effectively and narrowly cutting off the previously open spaces within to lead to a direct path.

  Some rooms were carved aside—lounging with off-duty guards—but otherwise, fencing was erected to limit and refine movement. It was… Well.

  It would work on some people. With the increased powers in the world, Colt questioned how effective it was. For example, it wouldn’t stop him or Nate from barging around wherever they wanted; on his own, Colt probably could’ve carved a hole straight through the outside of the stadium to the city proper… Oh well, maybe it was a theater of security? Like the airports used to be.

  Or, more maybe these safeguards were meant to discourage the people within the city who had a low level from trying to fight back. They couldn’t do much to stop this.

  When they got through the outside of the stadium, they reached a checkpoint. Guards there maintained the exit. An elderly old man was arguing with them as Colt and his group were waved through. He overheard a snippet of what the guy was angry about. He wanted to scavenge for food, not understanding why he couldn’t now.

  The guard was trying to explain that scavenging was now a government-regulated activity—he needed a license and an escort. He could apply at the White House.

  Colt didn’t catch much more than that, but the guy and the guard were going back and forth. They’d already looped through this conversation a couple of times, and it was quickly going nowhere. Julia began to shake more as they moved. Sarah gave her a soft promise that things would be fine; after clearing the checkpoint with a word from their escort, they were in New Nashville proper.

  The city had exploded beyond what Tony described. Nearly two thousand people crammed into the stadium grounds, their presence visible in the makeshift apartments that rose into a haphazard skyline. The White House was lost somewhere in what passed for downtown New Nashville, but its influence was everywhere, spread like a plague—in the American flags that now felt more like warnings than promises, in the signs declaring "Reclaim America, Work For New Nashville Today."

  Colt ran a hand through his hair and shared a look with Nate.

  The Guard led them through streets packed with survivors, the energy entirely changed from when they'd left. Less was the hope of becoming whole—now, Colt saw it in the barest fashion: a people struggling to survive, unsure of their future, crammed together in homes cobbled from scrap metal and whatever raw resources they could cobble together.

  Soon, they arrived at the White House, a gleaming, pristine building amongst all that New Nashville had become. A complete contrast to the dirty buildings around it. Colt rolled his shoulders and set his jaw. Time to talk to Denny.