Camille Castillo washed her hands for what felt like the hundredth time that day, but the red that remained part of her skin was indelible as ever.

  “Camille… you have to let it go.” One of her assistants asserted as she watched her washing her hands in the women’s room. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She lied, turning the knob for the water until it slowed to a drip. The assistant watched worriedly as her boss left the women’s room.

  It was time for her lunch break. Stamping approval papers and ensuring everyone else had food for the weeks to come wasn’t the hardest job she’d ever done, but its awkward mix of importance and endlessness bred exhaustion. Shuffling into the break room, she opened her Vault and looked about, finding her target. Hands shaking, she snapped a loaf of bread from her inventory.

  She’d decided to try again. Maybe a simpler food will be easier.

  She pressed down the tab of the breakroom’s toaster and waited. Utter silence permeated the room, broken only by the ticking clock and the sound of her own heartbeat in her chest. Finally, the toaster regurgitated her lunch. Forgoing condiments like butter or jam, she simply put the hot slice of toast on a plate and sat down.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Just eat it.

  An unbridled silence filled the entire world. A single lock of hair slid down from behind her ear as she slowly looked down. The bags under her eyes sagging deep, the ticking of the clock grew louder as she stared blankly at the warm bread welcoming her.

  Eat it.

  Each tick burrowed into her mind, the hands of the clock like shovels digging into her memories. They unearthed moment after moment of events after the System’s arrival; monsters ripping people apart in the streets. Babies and children met with violence that they should never have seen or experienced. Her murder of another human being. Each one and more lodged themselves in the forefront of her mind like abominable burs tearing at her subconscious. Their screams filled her mind for the hundredth time.

  The silence of reality continued to crack at the rhythmic ticking of the clock. Pushing her chair back, she exited the room in a rush. There was more work to be done, more logistics to hammer out. More people to help. There must be.

  The rejected toast steamed no more. Another untouched “meal” grew cold as stone on a plate, all the while the clock ticked away like a chisel against the quiet of the world.

  An axe met a club hammer mid swing, blasting the weapon back with force. Unsurprisingly, a boss tier monster had a greater strength stat than Gideon, but he didn’t let up. As the battle had continued, it’d become clear that despite its nature as a monster, it possessed martial skill with its chosen weapons. With that skill along with its status as a boss tier, it quickly became clear that it far outmatched Gideon. That was, of course, if he had been alone.