Richard couldn’t help but think about everything that had been said while he helped on the farm. There wasn’t much else to think about, though, since Elwyndor was making sure they were pollinating correctly. She had explained the process while they ate a hasty lunch, then showed them again in person, emphasizing that they needed to get it just right. He had to brush the pollen from one plant and place it into the flower of another. It was mind-numbingly boring, but he reminded himself that he was safe. Fang seemed more than happy to be stuck with something like this for hours on end if it meant he wouldn’t have to go outside the wall.

  It also meant Richard was left with his thoughts. He hated it. It made him deeply uncomfortable. After a few attempts at a conversation with no one responding well, he knew everyone else needed this quiet time, and he didn’t want to intrude.

  The silence, though. The monotony. He thought farming would be good for him, but it was terrifying. He brushed pollen into plants, finding himself missing bees.

  He hated being alone. Being among people, yet alone, made him feel nauseous. An actual physical nausea. What was wrong with him? What had happened in his past life, and what clues could he piece together to help him understand why he was reacting like this? He wasn’t sure he’d ever know. But he certainly had enough time to think about it.

  Richard tried to distract himself by studying his levels and skill tree. He now understood why Jace was so impressed with their leveling. He wasn’t sure how long he’d spent in the training room with weapons, but it was a good long while. All that, and his leveling bar had risen a small sliver. No doubt that would have made a huge difference at a lower level, but now he needed way more.

  Richard rubbed his forehead with his forearm before resuming his work. It was the first full day, and there would be a lot more of this in the coming weeks. He considered the class options. From the looks of it, most people became farmers. It made sense, since more people equaled more food. He also knew why farmers lived longer. How could someone die when this was their life all the time?

  Could he really choose this as a class? This had to be the most boring, safest class in an apocalypse. He was certainly glad people had this job, because he enjoyed eating food, but was it the class for him? Just as Leylah was certain in her choice to become a guard, Fang looked so at home among the plants. Richard envied them. What would it be like to know what class to pick before the end of the first full day of an apocalypse? He certainly wouldn’t mind spending the next two weeks trying to get a feel for more of the classes, but he couldn’t deny he wanted to already know what to choose.

  Hours passed, and he felt every single second of them. There was so much to do, and he could tell that people with certain gifts had far more skill in getting work done. Richard watched, fascinated, as someone walked from plant to plant, placing her hand against the soil and causing it to glow before moving on to the next one.

  Richard was relieved when the bell rang, signaling dinner. He and his small group of newbies walked silently toward the mess hall. Richard expected at least a backache from all that work, but he was pleasantly surprised to feel about the same. He was more annoyed when all that work resulted in no measurable difference in his level bar.

  Leylah sat down with her tray of food. “Well, that’s going to suck the life out of me.”

  “Tell me about it,” Richard mumbled.

  Fang gave them a pronounced frown. “Hey. I thought it was great.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that kind of work. It’s just… boring,” Leylah said.

  “It’s the reason we have food,” Amber said.

  “Also important, yes,” Richard said. “And I appreciate the people who can do this kind of work. It will just take me a good long while to get used to it.”

  Leylah shook her head, moving her spoon around the protein slurry. “I won’t be doing it long enough to get used to it.”

  “It’s safe, though. You can’t beat that,” Fang said.

  “It is. I’m happy you’ve found a class.” Richard scooped up some mashed corn and ate it.

  Fang gave him a weird look. “What makes you think I’ll choose that for a class?”

  Richard shrugged. “You seem at home there.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Fang smiled at that, though he tried to stifle it. “Maybe I am.”

  “And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Leylah lifted her water glass, ready to tap it. Fang smiled as he lifted his glass, both tapping them together.

  “And you’ll be such a badass guard,” Amber said.

  Leylah wasn’t nearly as good at hiding her smile. It quickly dropped when Lucy sat down next to them with her own food tray. She picked up her spoon, nodding in greeting.

  “Elwyndor needs you after dinner, so I’ll finish my lecture here,” Lucy said.

  Fang’s face dropped. “You’re going to… talk. About healing stuff? While we’re eating?”

  “Wait, Elwyndor needs us again?” Leylah shot Richard a worried look.

  With little fanfare, Lucy ate a bite of her protein slurry, and dove right into her lecture. “So I’m sure you’re wondering why I have a job here when things such as healing potions exist in this world.”

  Fang and Leylah exchanged glances.

  “Yeah, actually. I saw that there’s a skill that heals our wounds.” Amber must have pulled up her skill tree and looked at it while she spoke.

  Lucy nodded, a slight smile on her face. “And it is a vital ability while in an apocalypse, but you’ll also note it has a cooldown function. But my powers deal with the more hellish wounds you might get.”

  Richard’s stomach dropped. He knew what Lucy was going to lecture about, because he had experienced it in a different time jump.

  Richard settled in for the lecture, which he noticed delved more into the grosser aspects of what Lucy had seen, no doubt because Fang had asked her if she’d do this while they were eating. Richard listened as Lucy mentioned a handful of hellish diseases, like the lungs slowly changing all air into ash as the person slowly dies by asphyxiation. Or the hellish skin disease where chunks of skin fall off, showing off blackened bone and muscle.

  Even then, Richard knew she was toning it down. He didn’t know how, but he felt it. That’s what freaked Richard out so much. Despite knowing it was a lure today, he remembered how chilling it was to hear that baby cry on the beach. Lucy talked about a disease that completely took over a person and made them want to kill everyone in sight. Richard didn’t doubt it, especially after his experience at the beach today. That disease hung a lot heavier over everyone, and everyone else must have been thinking about that moment on the beach.

  After dinner, Elwyndor came back, nodding to the newbies.

  “Again?” Leylah sounded almost terrified.

  “Yes.” Elwyndor leaned against the table. “Marcus taught you how to be a scavenger by taking you out scavenging today. Jace will eventually teach you how to be a guard by fighting abominations. My job as a farmer will be to teach you how to farm all day, every day. You might get time off during the winter because the load won’t be as huge. Though we have found hardy enough plants to grow in the winter now.” Elwyndor smiled at them all. “So come on. Finish your food; you must learn what it’s like to be a farmer.”

  Richard hoped that, having done some farming beforehand, maybe it would feel a little less monotonous, but it was as monotonous as ever. He thought when the sun set, they would stop farming, but he watched someone grab a glowing bottle and throw it in the middle of the ground. Large globs of light filled the farming area, and Richard’s shoulders slumped in realization. They would do this for a few more hours at least.

  Even still, Richard remembered how exhausted he had been the day before when he got the system. He had to admit that even though he had experienced a solid day of surviving in an apocalypse, he still was not nearly as tired as that first night.

  Fang was already snoring softly when Richard hit his head on the pillow. Richard placed one hand under his pillow, staring at the ceiling, marveling at his new life. A part of his thoughts drifted to his old life, wondering if he had a family. Was anyone missing him? Did they have any idea that a day later he was training to fight back in an apocalypse? Had anyone regretted that he had died alone?

  Was he sad he had died alone?

  Richard turned over and closed his eyes, willing sleep to come. Despite a full day of apocalypse training, he was glad to still be alive and appreciate going to sleep safe in a bed.

  A loud tolling bell woke him up a few hours later. The black sky outside made it impossible to see anything, and he instinctively reached for the wall to touch something. It took him only a few more moments to realize he was trying to bring light into the room somehow.

  “What’s happening?” Fang’s strangled voice came out.

  “I don’t know.” Richard walked over to the window, lifting the curtains to see darkness. His eyes were drawn toward the only light, which was randomly placed torches. Richard hadn’t counted the ringing bells, but he assumed it wasn’t good if guards were spilling out of their barracks.

  “What’s happening?” Fang asked again.

  Richard didn’t bother answering, because it was still the same. He had a lot of assumptions. Some sort of creature trying to attack, and the night guard might need extra help. Richard tried to calm his mind. He tried to tell himself that it wasn’t his job. If anyone needed help, they wouldn’t need it from a newbie.

  Something thumped against the outer wall, and Richard flinched, dropping the curtain and backing away. He heard shouting, calls for order and commands. Richard waited, his adrenaline racing through him. He should go out there, but it was a death sentence. Even with the new levels he got today, he’d be more of a hindrance than a help. But the shouts were hard to ignore. It was impossible to sit and do nothing, but he learned to do the impossible.

  Eventually, the shouts died down. The tone changed from urgency to relief. Fang was curled up in his bed, and from the muffled sounds Richard heard, he assumed Fang had a hand over his mouth to keep his whimpering quiet. Richard sank into his bed, staring ahead. He tried to calm his adrenaline, but it was hard. His head returned to the pillow, his eyes wide as he forced his muscles to relax. Yes, he was still glad to be alive. He kept that fact at the forefront of his mind as he made himself believe he was in a safe place and could sleep.

  It wasn’t until the sky toward the east lightened that Richard finally drifted off to sleep.