Everything happened as usual. They felt the rumble at the church, too. Perhaps they felt it all over the world, T’balt didn’t know. But from the perspective of the church, it was a scramble. As soon as word hit and the explosions were felt, many rushed straight to them, while others would only notice the church as a passing refuge. But it didn’t take long for the masses to flock in.

  When the time came, T’balt was allowed to take the pulpit and command them as Arthur allowed. But this time, the abbot had left T’balt’s speech to make a phone call. He didn’t come back for some time after that.

  They were calling him Redeemer once again, but it was like a dark cloud was veiled over them. T’balt had saved Acelin, but he couldn’t save Ellie, too. The gap left behind after her death was monumental. Without her, the bottom floor was a chaotic mess.

  She knew the believers on a deeper level than T’balt ever could. She knew the church. She knew where everything was stored and how to keep the largest number of people comfortable. Plus, she was the only medic on staff until T’balt did his obligatory loot hunting.

  But after that first afternoon, much to his surprise, it was Arthur who served to fill that void. He couldn’t move as quickly as she did, and he had no medical history, but he could delegate like no other when he needed to. At the end of the day, he was the true leader of this church.

  Most of these people came expecting to see him, so they followed his every command as if he were the one seen as the prophet. But there was something very different about him, this time around.

  He was a lot more hesitant in the way he moved and commanded. He’d subject himself to more grunt work, like handing out sheets and towels. And every now and then, he’d stare at the floor, lost deep in thought about something. Almost like he was sorrowful.

  A trait he hadn’t shown before. Always a determined man. Despite not knowing the truth of Zero Day, he was steadfast in his decisions. Whether that meant granting control to T’balt or preparing for a bandit attack, he remained the pillar that kept everyone going. Now that pillar looked a bit cracked at the foundation.

  “Would you mind if I received one of the gifts as well?”

  “Ehh, what?” T’balt thought he was hearing things. It came so out of the blue and from a mouth where those words might as well have been gibberish.

  “I apologize if it's inconvenient, I just thought… You know, I might be of some use with some of those healing gifts.”

  He’d never ever asked for loot before. T’balt almost sensed it was a trick. In past iterations, Arthur was willing to die before letting the coins touch his neck, but now he was offering himself up. It was off… so much so that T’balt said, “I’ll think about it.” He was still far too paranoid about Monan’s tricks, and this felt like it could be one of them.

  Arthur simply nodded and continued his duties. But was it a trick, or maybe his humanist beliefs were somehow triggered by Ellie? The only major change so far was her. But he couldn’t deny that Arthur Kilgrove, with a loot stack in other iterations, would’ve been very useful. He decided to wait and see for now.

  Once Cannon arrived and declared himself, T’balt took a crew out to the city. He wanted to do a sweep to see if they could find Monan’s new base. The hotel was a no-go, but he must’ve been hiding that big group of bandits somewhere. He effectively just took the place of Nrv in every iteration now, so that meant to keep the same host of goons, he’d have to be in the city to gather them.

  But the city was big. Nrv had many members, but when it was Acelin in charge, at least they had graffiti that pointed them out a mile away. Under Monan, they were stealthy or at least for now unfound.

  T’balt even had a hypersensitivity loot on him to help him search, but they weren’t even within 10 miles of the hotel from what he could see.

  “Nope, not a sign of them here, T’balt,” Cannon told him. So, they’d move on and look for signs in the next neighborhood and then the next. He was trying to take the offensive, but if he didn’t know where Monan was, he couldn’t attack him. Which he desperately wanted to. He owed him for killing Ellie, before the game even started.

  But while they were out, he remembered something. Ann. She had warned him of this, telling him to keep living through the tragedy, and then he might find a way to defeat Monan. Well, he was doing it, and such a way hadn’t presented itself. Nowhere close.

  He felt the point of it waning. Why couldn’t he just reset and get Ellie back? How much of a difference would it really make? He wished he could ask her, regretting that he reset things so soon. But he was riding on his emotions then. He was in that state where if he had to reset himself, there was no other time than when the pain was heaviest. Now Ann was gone, possibly forever, and he might not ever know what the Looter god truly wants from him.

  He stood in the dilapidated home, remembering where he watched Ellie die before. He remembered Ann looking at the sky and the smell of fresh coffee. She wasn’t there, of course. But a part of him made himself believe there was a chance.

  It wasn’t until now that he realized that he liked Ann. She was a good woman. Introspective, caring, and she believed in something in him—A T’balt that could exist that would save them from this world. Despite his fight being on top of his mind, he was dying to know how.

  “I’m gonna guess that they’re not in this house either. Come on, T’balt. I’m getting a craving for a nice meal when we get back,” Cannon said.

  “Sure.” T’balt was ready to leave, but just before he activated his loot, he heard something scurrying in one of the air vents.

  “Acelin, this is Genya. I want you to look after her.” T’balt patted the small brown-haired girl forward. She still had a bunch of dirt on her face, wearing that same night gown as before. It seemed that the little underpass house was more of her domain than Ann’s, and she’d been living there alone since things started.

  T'balt was glad he found her, not realizing that without Ann, she’d be by herself. But he didn’t have the time to raise a kid in all this, let alone two. So Genya, like Acelin, had to be passed on to the group of church children, who became everyone’s responsibility.

  “Hevo,” Genya waved politely, a little too old for baby talk but not old enough for it to stop being cute.

  “But she’s like half my age. I don’t want to have to babysit all day,” Acelin complained.

  “Listen,” T’balt explained. “Without you, Genya would be all by herself. She doesn’t have any parents. No one else that cares about her. So she needs someone like you to keep her safe for now.”

  “Big brother,” Genya called out. She really did get attached easily. Acelin scratched his head.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “You don’t need to call me that… we only just met.” His face reddened at the bright happiness in Genya. “Come on. I’ll introduce you to the others.”

  Genya waddled behind him to the group of other kids. Acelin was having a better time getting along with them these days. They’d invite them to their games, and Acelin didn’t try to play too roughly. Seeing them all together made T’balt happy.

  He fiddled with a lightning loot coin in his hand for a moment, wondering if he should give the kid some loot or just let him be. That was the benefit of getting to him early; he was lootless, and so he didn’t have to participate in the fighting, just like what Ellie wanted. He pocketed the coin, letting him just be a kid this time around.

  He made his way upstairs. Not to the bedroom. He hadn’t so much as looked at it for several iterations. Even now, he elected to sleep downstairs with everyone else, avoiding the curse of that red-sheeted bed.

  But he made his way to Arthur’s office, having thought about his earlier proposal. But he found him looking over a picture of a woman.

  “Everything alright, Arthur?”

  Arthur hesitated to put the picture down. “I couldn’t reach her,” he said, voice cracking. “No one’s seen or heard from her. I checked the house. I had people check everywhere, and she’s… gone.”

  T’balt took a closer look at the photo. She looked his age, short with grey blonde hair. An old face but a young smile.

  “Is this…”

  “Sorry. This is… my wife.”

  “Wife? You never mentioned a wife before.” He turned away. He always forgot that statements like that were troubling for people getting used to the Redeemer powers.

  The abbot brushed his hand across the photo. “She brought me back from the dead, you know. When I was young, I had a long battle with alcoholism and substance abuse of all kinds. You name it, I’ve done it. My years of service were not kind to me… But in all my dark places, it was she who pulled me out. Led me to the church. Led me to my salvation. To think that she’s gone is…” He choked up.

  “I’m sorry, Arthur. I could try helping you look for her.”

  “No…” he said, dropping the frame. “She was at home when it happened. We live right down the road. If she hadn’t come here by now, then…”

  T’balt thought it best to just sit down and listen for now, as a friend had done for him once. He knew that anything he’d say at this point would be a forced platitude. So he sat in the seat across the desk.

  “I should’ve listened to you,” Arthur said. “You told me of the coming, but I didn’t really believe it, so I didn’t call. It's my fault. I just… wish I could see her once more…. She was so devastated when I told her about Ellie. Couldn’t even make it out of the house. Two innocent souls gone so quickly to senseless v.. violence.” He stuttered the last word like he placated himself when he wanted a word far worse.

  “Ellie knew your wife, too?”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t tell you with as much as you know about her. Yes. She and Martha got along like sisters in a book club. Martha always made sure Ellie had enough food to eat, toilet paper, all that stuff. She would come here, and they’d read, play cards, and talk about the latest housewives drama. Ellie was distant from her family. And so naturally she became a part of ours in the year she lived here.”

  T’balt balled his fist, but he had nowhere for his tension to go. It was another one of those things that Ellie never told him. There was still so much about her he didn’t know, and he would have to break the death barrier to hear from her again.

  But he focused his attention on this Martha, who no one had thought to mention before. Though Arthur didn’t have much more to say after that, electing to call the night early before T’balt had a chance to offer him any loot.

  When Arthur left, he didn’t go to his quarters, however. He walked out of the church and into the brisk light of the evening. He had one of the watchmen let him through the earth-made wall by throwing down a piece of it and remaking it once he was on the other side.

  Then he’d walk about half a mile to the neighborhood nearby and sit in his house. A small but cozy 2-bedroom 2-bath. It still had all his things in it: All the pictures on the walls, all the knick-knacks, all the memorabilia.

  There were old happy birthday cards stacked in rows because she never liked to throw them away. There was the special silverware meant only for decoration that he always hated. There was the ticking of the battery-powered analogue clocks that lulled them to sleep at night.

  He sat in the room in the darkness, much like he did most nights, as he thought about what the world had come to.

  He closed his eyes and prayed in the middle of his living room floor, clutching his hands and bowing his head, asking the lord to make something good of this situation. Asking what the world had done wrong to deserve this. What he had done wrong. “I have been faithful. I am yours. My faith does not falter. But I am in peril, lord. And I need guidance.”

  A crash came from his bedroom along with the sound of breaking glass. Arthur hopped to his feet, nervous. “A demon,” he said. But he started to hear something peculiar. It was the sound of his closet doors and dresser drawers opening and closing.

  These were not the sounds of a demon but of a burglar. Likely someone seeking refuge, not knowing that the house was occupied. Realizing this, Arthur crossed into the door, hands exposed. “Be calm,” he said. “I come in peace. You can have whatever you like. But if you need shelter, there’s a church up the road. We have everything you could need.”

  The stranger staggered for a moment. Then he stood straight and walked into the ray of exposed light from outside. “Arthur. Just the man I wanted to see.”

  And that’s when he recognized the man as the same from the security footage. The man who murdered Ellie in cold blood. “It's you.”

  Monan smirked, surveying Arthur and pacing around him. That was enough to strike Arthur still as he suddenly became afraid for his life.

  “Long time no see, bud. I’d love to chat and all, but I’m really just here for the thing. You know, the thing. The thingy thing that you do things with.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “The stash man. The loot. It ain’t in the place you had it last time.”

  The clothes in his closet were thrown everywhere, and the safe he kept hidden in there was wide open. Arthur wondered how he knew the passcode to get in, but he remembered T’balt telling him that he had the same powers of knowing past lives.

  “Listen... I don’t know why you did what you did to that poor girl. But in the light of all things holy, you will suffer for it.”

  “Which girl now?” Monan looked aloof. “Oh, Arthur, you've got to know that god stuff doesn’t fly on me. Because you wanna know something?” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I met god. And he don’t give a damn about you or me.”

  “That’s blasphemy. You hear.” Arthur seethed. “There’s a special place in hell for people like you.”

  “Oh, wait, I saw this on a t-shirt once. It's called a throne,” he laughed.

  Then Arthur knew he was dealing with what exactly T’balt had told him. An agent of chaos. A man who was too far gone from humanity. Someone who had to be put down for the betterment of all humanity.

  “But you mentioned a girl earlier.” Monan put a finger on his lip. “Let me think… Oh, that’s the one. The librarian bird, right. I get it now.” He laughed even louder this time. “Damn chain reactions. I was so busy messing with the kid that I didn’t even think about it…. You haven’t killed your wife this time, have you, Art?”

  Just then, a rage was inflicted inside Arthur like no other he’d felt in his life. “What the hell did you just say?”

  Monan, dismissing the anger in his voice, sat on the bed where Martha slept. “You always act all holier than thou like your god will save you, but you neglect to remember that I’m god here… T’balt too to a lesser extent, but.. all that faith only led to you committing the ultimate sin in a past life. You can look at me however you like, but your special spot in hell is right beneath mine, brother. Don’t keep your wife waiting too long.”

  That was when all sense left him. Arthur threw his body to the mercy of his own anger. Mind blank, he charged at Monan, throwing a punch to send him to that spot in hell.

  With a smile, Monan’s body evaporated into the air, shredding like smoke. He reappeared behind Arthur, kicking him in the back. Arthur dropped.

  Monan sensed the entertainment of the occasion was gone, looking at the seething look on the old man’s face as he struggled to his feet after one kick. “Eh. There’s no fun in picking on a lootless old man. I’ll be back for your stash neck time, alright.” He winked before again disappearing. This time, the smoke was brushed out the window like a passing wind.

  “Get back here, you son of a bitch,” Arthur called, but no one heard. He was left, the only soul in his empty house.