Apocalypse Reset: My Crab Can Heal the World!

As the meeting concludes, Maria excuses herself to go talk with Haima. The throne room is opened up to the public, where many people have already gathered to beseech Clancy with their requests. The mighty, sulking crab props himself up onto the throne and Eldrie assists him as they begin holding audience.

Eventually, Barns, Osmond, and Underhill are the only three left at the planning table. They tune out the noise of Clancy’s declarations as they continue to brainstorm what their next steps should be.

"I can have the artisans whip up some kinky stuff," Underhill jests. "Black-out helmets, noise canceling headphones, you name it. At least we’ll have them if the opportunity ever arises to slap one of the Sentinels with ’em."

"Not a bad idea," Barns agrees. "We don’t know the circumstances of their powers, but it’s possible Donatella needs to see in order to use her telekinesis. Maybe even some type of Secret Art that can create a fog?"

Underhill snaps his fingers and wags his hand at Barns. "Now there’s an idea!" Underhill pauses for a brief aside, his sneaky eyes darting all around as he thinks of a multitude of ideas. "I wonder if there’s some way to utilize the fog from the Pale Court…"

As Underhill ruminates, Osmond remembers something that the shady police chief mentioned earlier that day - something to do with the system.

"You said ’Zelia’ has some new developments for us, didn’t you?" Osmond asks, changing the subject. "Can you tell us more about that?"

Underhill’s stream of consciousness breaks. "Oh, yeah. I did say somethin’ like that, huh? I suppose you’ve both been gone the past couple days, and haven’t been apprised of all the new developments. Lemme fill you in."

Underhill gives a quick rundown of the new quest system. Now that Yunie is gone, Zelia took the opportunity to revamp how she was distributing quests. Alongside the artisans, a message board has been installed in the Adventurer Guild that updates itself with both Daily and now Weekly Quests.

Those who are Adventurers were invited to be beta-testers for a new device - something like a cell phone, but with only one app. From those devices, they can accept and track quests. They can even make purchases - Guild equipment - from the app. They just had to report in person to pick up their supplies after.

"That should simplify things quite a bit," Barns smiles. "I was worried about Roscoe having to run that place all by himself."

"The Guild is going swimmingly," Underhill says, his usual smirk plastered over his face. "And even if not, that kid’s got a good head on his shoulders. Tryna do right by his sister - it’s lit a fire in him, for sure."

"Do these devices you’re handing out have any communication features?" Barns wonders. Being able to send and receive messages to others would be an excellent benefit to their ever-expanding System.

"Not quite. But Zelia and I are cookin’ up some new ideas, and that’s definitely one of them. Seems there’s some issue with creating new users in the System that even Z-bot can’t fully navigate around. Says there are ’too many watching eyes’ or something."

"Z-bot?" Barns laughs. "Sounds like you and Zelia have been chatting a lot."

"More than I should be, less than I’d like to," Underhill winks.

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"Last time I saw Zelia, she was acting a little…different," Barns remembers. It was outright chilling - Zelia, the Administrator, seemed like a force of benevolent good when he first met her - barring a smidge of snarky duplicity. But during his last conversation, it was like a different entity altogether…

"Oh, yeah? She and I have been gettin’ on great."

The words do nothing to quell the unease in Barns’ heart. She was becoming colder to Barns, but getting closer to Underhill? He didn’t like the sound of that at all.

"If she can’t create new users, could she ’convert’ old ones?" Osmond wonders, joining in the conversation. He’d been deep in thought about his own powers - the roaring demon inside. Planning, thinking, strategizing on how he could safely increase his power levels. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

"You know, like Yunie. She had an account or whatever, right? Could that account be given to someone else? I’m sure she’s not the only ’Moderator’ who died during the apocalypse, either. Maybe Zelia could repurpose them?"

Underhill looks as if he’s just awoken to a whole world of new possibilities - and Osmond’s words make more sense to him than the demon realizes.

"You may just be a genius, sir. We should talk more. You got a good head on ya."

Osmond smiles faintly. He’s not used to being complimented - Maria will only praise him in the heat of the moment, and is a ’dead-fish’ besides. Even for a demon, social acceptance is something he craves, and every day he felt more and more like the new Dimartino is the home he’s always wanted.

He’s also surprising himself at how he’s begun to warm up to Underhill. Once, he treated the man with nothing but suspicion. Underhill was still suspicious as hell, but the value he’s brought to the Kingdom has been undeniable.

Barns taps his knuckles on the table a couple times as his brain switches gears. Before he can fully move to the next task at hand, however, his eyes dart over to the grand entrance of the throne room. Another person is arriving to speak with Clancy, but that’s not what Barns is thinking about.

"Hey, do either of you happen to know what Maria wanted to talk to Haima about?" he asks abruptly. He’d been racking his brain to try and understand, but nothing about the two of them seems to overlap. His curiosity made him a bit nervous.

Underhill wasn’t planning to let that cat out of the bag, but as Barns asks and makes direct eye contact with the police chief, Underhill can’t get his poker face ready in time. His eyes are wide and spinning with excuses - and Barns sees it clearly.

’Guess there’s no sense lying now,’ Underhill thinks. Underhill had lied his way out of worse situations, but something about Barns - his sheer, honest, pain-in-the-ass determination - made it feel like a waste of effort. Besides, the kid deserved to know, didn’t he?

He curses himself under his breath - he’s supposed to be a good liar. His deflective nature failed him in the moment, and he decides to do something a bit out of character for him - tell the whole truth.

"Listen, guy. Only telling you cause you asked, so don’t shoot the messenger. You remember the knife we found sticking out of that homicide victim’s chest? Well…your girl Haima has a matching set."