As they navigated the ruins of the city, Marcy noticed a small, flickering star at the corner of her vision. Every time she blinked, it pulsed. When she finally focused her mind on it, a translucent blue dialogue box expanded in front of her face.
NAME: Marcy
RACE: Bunny-Folk
CLASS: Dragon Fodder
HEIGHT: 4’2”
HP: 100
MP: ￡￠%€￥π÷￡￠%%%%
Marcy stared at the MP line. "What on earth does that mean?" she muttered. "Is that even a number?"
She swiped the screen, looking for anything that might actually help her survive. Under the Abilities tab, she found her first lead:
PASSIVE: [Prey Reflexes] (Status: Inactive)
Description: When in immediate danger, automatically consumes 1% stamina to dodge an incoming attack.
FLAVOR TEXT: "Bunny-Folk are notoriously skittish. Even in a safe tavern, they know they are someone’s dinner."
Marcy scoffed, her whiskers twitching in annoyance. She scrolled down further and found an active skill: [Jump]. The description was equally insulting: Allows the user to jump.
"Wow... how creative," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
However, she noticed a small notification at the bottom. She was somehow Level 3, and she had two stat points waiting to be assigned. The list included STR, ATK, SPD, HP, MP, and SPCH.
She didn't have a manual, so she went with her gut. "I need to be fast, and I need to hit back," she whispered. She dropped one point into SPD and one into ATK.
The System chimed instantly.
LEVEL 3 MILESTONE REACHED!
NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: [Forage]
Description: Generates a random stack of consumable items. (Cooldown: 6 Hours)
Marcy looked bummed. "Great. I’m a gatherer." Out of curiosity, she activated the skill.
POP!
Allan spun around instantly, his claws extended and his eyes glowing, thinking they were under attack. Instead, he found Marcy standing there with two large bags of fresh carrots. She was already happily crunching on one.
Allan stared at her, then at the carrots, then back at her. He let out a low, raspy chuckle, shaking his head. "You're full of surprises, neighbor."
Marcy held out a carrot to him. At first, Allan turned his nose up at it—dragons were carnivores, after all. But then, his stomach let out a thunderous, predatory growl. He snatched the carrot, bit into it with a loud crunch, and made a face of pure disgust. But he kept eating. He was starving.
A red window flickered into view, dripping with its usual sass.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
WOW. YOU’RE A WALKING PINK GROCERY STORE NOW. YOU WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO LEVEL UP, FURBALL! GETTING A BIT AHEAD OF OURSELVES, AREN'T WE?
"So... what exactly are we looking for?" Marcy whispered.
Before she could finish the sentence, Allan’s hand shot out, grabbing her shoulder and pressing her firmly against the brick wall of a nearby alley.
"Shh," he hissed, pressing a clawed finger to his lips.
Marcy’s heart did a triple-flip. He was so close she could smell the faint scent of woodsmoke and ozone coming off his scales. She felt her face heating up—a bright pink that matched her fur. He was holding her, protecting her, and for a second, the apocalypse didn't seem so bad.
A group of skeletons shambled past the alley entrance. They were a walking horror show; their bones didn't just clatter, they popped and creaked with every wet, grinding step. Marcy squeezed her eyes shut until the sound faded into the distance.
As the monsters passed, Marcy noticed a small notification flicker in her peripheral vision.
EXP GAINED: +50 (Stealth Participation)
She didn't even know how she’d earned it, but she pushed the thought aside as Allan stepped back, breaking the contact.
"Come on," he said, his voice dropping back into that guarded, cold tone. "Let's keep going. I... I need to find her."
Marcy hurried to keep up with his long strides. "Find who?"
Allan looked away, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. He didn't know why he felt bad, but seeing Marcy’s wide, innocent bunny eyes made the words feel heavy. "My girlfriend. She has to be around here somewhere. She was at the gym when everything went down. I just... I have to know she's okay."
Marcy felt her heart deflate like a popped balloon. Of course. It was only fair. She would have done the same if the roles were reversed, but that didn't stop the sudden ache in her chest.
The walk continued in a suffocating, awkward silence. The air grew strangely crisp, the summer heat vanishing as they turned the final corner toward the campus athletic center.
CRUNCH.
Allan stopped, looking down at his feet. The pavement was no longer grey; it was buried under a thick, jagged layer of frost. As they looked up, they saw a scene of frozen carnage. Monsters—goblins, zombies, and hounds—stood like macabre statues, trapped in mid-snarl, encased in solid ice.
The ice grew thicker and sharper the closer it got to one building in particular.
"The gym," Allan whispered, his breath hitching in the freezing air.
