Project Seraphina [LitRPG, Magitech, GL]
3.8 Fallout

We won. We defeated the Foothills Wyvern. And we did so with minimal losses. Neither Chloe nor Alana nor I suffered wounds beyond Chloe’s ability to heal. We managed to stop the wyvern’s tumbling corpse from landing in the center of a neighborhood. The city is now that much safer with one fewer monster on the loose. And yet, to Chloe at least, it feels like a loss.

I can see why. The damage to property is catastrophic. Dozens of houses suffered various amounts of damage. Several are partially or completely leveled. Though we did the best that we could, many lives are going to be flipped upside down, all thanks to powers greater than they could hope to intervene in.

It reminds me of Alexey, and what he said about the perils of war. How War isn’t hell. But that it’s war instead, and that war is far worse than hell. Worse because the worst of what war brings isn’t borne by the combatants. Chloe, Alana, and I don’t have much in the way of injury, and what injuries we have sustained, Chloe will have us healed as soon as her [Ether] regenerates.

At the end of the day, we’ll all get to go back to our own homes, sleep in comfortable beds, and wake up the following morning just as we did today. These people, on the other hand, had a monster dropped in their neighborhood and are going to have to struggle with the fallout. We can help to a degree— Chloe is already off tending to the wounded and Alana and I are rushing around from house to house, trying to identify any others who need immediate medical attention.

I can’t help but shoulder a portion of the responsibility. Not the blame— none of us did anything immoral. By objective measures, we are heroes. We did what we could to minimize harm as we dealt with a threat to the entire city. But, again as that famous movie quote goes, with great power comes great responsibility.

In the end, more than anything, I feel weak. I feel ineffective. The surge of strength that comes from leveling up helps, just a smidgeon. But if we had been stronger, faster, more effective, then perhaps these folks wouldn’t have to endure hardship on our behalf. And it’s for that reason, among others, that I feel a sense of unease whenever Chloe asks me to relax. Even if we do need downtime, a part of me still worries that if I’d used that time more effectively, been more judicious, then maybe I’d be that much stronger. That much better prepared to deal with whatever calamities the System throws our way next.

I am surprised, however, how well the people of this neighborhood are taking the dire circumstances in stride. There are plenty of irate homeowners pissed about the danger their kids have been put in. And plenty more who are going to have long roads ahead, dealing with insurance companies who are, to the best of my knowledge, a match for the pigs in sheer prickishness. But the general vibe is one of community, of coming together under common hardship, and of working together to overcome the challenges that have been foisted upon them.

In that sense, it is a microcosm of the city, and the world as a whole. It is, in many ways, a stark contrast to how post-apocalyptic media often portrays the world. Instead of nasty, competitive, and self-destructive, people are drawn together. They seek one another’s comfort and rely on each other for protection, resources, and emotional support. In that sense, it’s a lot like the aftermath of less supernatural disasters. A few people who try to take advantage, and a lot more who work together to do the best they can, bonding through mutual traumas.

We spend the rest of the morning and into the middle of the afternoon helping where we can. Chloe tends to the wounded, acting as a first-responder while professional first-responders follow suit, tending to the less wounded where they can. A few paramedics have taken [Healer] classes, and their magic, though considerably weaker than Chloe’s, helps to stabilize the injured before they can be transported to hospitals for more intensive treatment.

Alana and I spend our time among the rubble, locating and rescuing people trapped in the debris. There’s a certain satisfaction that comes from watching Alana literally lift cars and sofas with all the ease of a glass of water. More than a few kids stare wide-eyed, and though there are a few who ask somewhat invasive questions about my arm and my wings, I do the best I can to answer them without being too much of an ass. The fact that Chloe hasn’t chewed me out suggests I am doing an adequate job of that.

By half-past two, we’ve done all that we can, and decide it’s time to leave the rest to the professionals. Chloe looks ragged, having run around and kept herself in the periphery of [Ether] strain, attempting to heal as many people as she could. And while Alana and I are faring a little better in that specific regard, even our impressive [Vitality] stats can’t put up with maximum exertion for hours on end.

We wave goodbye to the people before again taking to the sky. This time, however, I carry Chloe in my arms to give her a chance to rest and recuperate while we decide upon our next objectives.

“Thanks, both of you,” Alana says once we’re mostly out of earshot. “I’m not sure I would have been able to fight that wyvern off without you showing up when you did.”

“I’m glad we could help,” Chloe says, her voice a little weak. She buries her face into my chest and wraps her arms around my waist.

“So, I guess I owe Lindsey fifty bucks,” Alana adds.

“What?” I ask.

“Lindsey and I had a wager going back a couple of months. She said the two of you would be a couple by the end of the year.”

Chloe starts giggling. I join her a moment later, once I’ve processed Alana’s words.

“What’s so funny?”

“Lindsey heard my confession to Sera back before your wager started,” Chloe says. “In other words, she just conned you out of fifty bucks.”

I purse my lips to signal my resigned agreement.

“Well, shit,” Alana says after a few seconds. “I guess I’ll have to get her back at some point.”

“So, how are things going here?” I ask. “Chloe and I just got back yesterday morning and we’ve not really checked in with the city more generally.”

Chloe gives me a look, and I continue.

“In truth, the two of us are supposed to be taking a couple of days to rest and relax after everything we’ve dealt with recently. In fact, that damn wyvern interrupted our first date!”

“Sorry about that,” Alana says. “In any case, I’m afraid that attacks of this nature aren’t an uncommon circumstance. Though, this is the first time we’ve faced a dragonoid. Lots of giant birds, some pterosaurs— weaker than that wyvern for sure. And plenty of ground-bound creatures as well. Pretty much everything you can think of…” She trails off a bit.

“You’re not the only one defending the whole city, are you?” Chloe asks.

“There are others. Though I’m one of the few people with a flight Skill. I won’t lie. We could use your help, if you’re willing.”

I am conflicted by this. On the one hand, serving as a defender of the city would save lives. It would be an opportunity to gain levels and materials. On the other hand, Chloe doesn’t seem to be super keen on constantly being on the front lines. And I don’t want to submit to military command again. Especially now that I pretty much can work for whomever I want.

After a moment, I come up with what I believe to be an appropriate compromise. “Do you by chance have your phone on you? We can exchange numbers, that way if there’s an emergency, you can get in contact with us. Or vice versa.”

Chloe nods, signaling her assent to the idea. And, after a bit of awkwardly shuffling around with our belongings a mile above ground, we’re able to exchange contact info with one another. In theory, at least, it should be possible to simply build some sort of Etheric relay network for communication without needing such easily-damaged devices. But we still have phones and pre-existing infrastructure, and for now, we might as well use it.

“So, Chloe,” I say. “I know it’s a bit late for lunch, but how do you feel about the two of us and Alana heading somewhere?”

“Sure,” she says. She’s not perfectly enthused, and I understand why. What was supposed to be a casual date between the two of us, a chance to finally relax after all that shit with the Order of the Wilds, has now been interrupted. Not once, but twice. Truly, it’s like some sick cosmic joke, and I have a sneaking suspicion I’m going to keep being the System’s punchline and punching bag for the foreseeable future.

“Sounds great. I know it’s not much, but after your help with the wyvern, I will insist that you let me pay for it. A small token of gratitude.”

A part of me wants to mention the fat stack of cash I’ve got on me, but I allow Alana to treat us. It just seems better for all of us to accept her generosity.

The three of us sit at a small table in the corner of a local Mediterranean restaurant on the east side of town. I’m currently indulging in a gyro— with extra tzatziki sauce— while Alana is eating a rice and lamb platter and Chloe is eating a salad. With the current time being almost three in the afternoon, the restaurant is nearly completely empty. A trio of employees behind the counter, and one older gentleman sitting at a nearby table and trying not to stare at the three women who paint a very vivid picture with their mere presence.

I’m wearing steel armor, with a titanium-alloyed left arm from shoulder to tip, and have a pair of metallic wings that are actually functional. Chloe wears a set of off-white robes that are somewhere between the traditional papal robes and an ordinary bathrobe, all while wearing a dark hat that looks like it came out of the stereotypical depiction of a powerful witch or sorceress. And Alana wears a set of full plate that somehow glistens even when not exposed to light.

The employees, for their part, don’t seem to notice or care. And I think it’s because it’s becoming a more and more common occurrence with each passing day. More people are going into dungeons and finding gear, and there are enough low-level creatures causing trouble that most people can reach level 4 or 5 without really having to do much of anything. Even Mrs. Jacobs, who’s loath to implicate herself in anything dangerous, has gained a couple of levels through means I’m not sure I want to know.

That, and there’s the more sinister thing that I feel I should mention. About black markets for Ethertech and glyph-enhanced weapons. I spend a few minutes going over my experience at the pawn shop with Alana, all while Chloe listens and chimes in on occasion.

Alana pauses for a good half a minute after I finish relaying all this information to her. “Honestly, I’m not surprised that something like this has happened. Arms dealers and war profiteers have been a thing as long as wars and money have been a thing. And with brand new technologies sprouting up, there’s no shortage of money flowing to whomever can provide. Often to those with… fewer scruples than average.”

“Like those guys,” I mutter.

“If I may give a word of caution, or perhaps an alternate perspective,” Alana says. “Once technology is created, it’s impossible to put the cat back into the bag. If you are still certain that you don’t want to be involved with Ethertech research, or just want to work independently as a hobbyist, that’s your choice. But, would you rather be the one guiding the research and development process, or have someone else do it? Someone who might moonlight their research to criminals or even foreign governments.”

I nod, considering Alana’s words. I still don’t want to work for the government or a defense contractor, but I do understand her point.

“Ultimately, what you two do with yourselves is up to you, though. I’ve got to go report in now and prepare an after-action report, so I guess I’ll see you around.”

“It was great seeing you too, Alana,” Chloe says.

And with that, we each share a hug with the [Valkyrie] before she spawns her wings once more and flies off toward wherever it is she’s heading next.