If there was one thing I hated, it was the heat. I couldn’t stand it. Which was a big part of the reason why the second thing I hated was Cricket.

  Actually, that was a lie. The thing I hated most was flies. Annoying little shits.

  Here I was, standing in a circle of dry, crunchy grass, waiting for some kid to throw a rock-hard ball at my face. I wanted Volleyball. Nice, cool gym. Shade. Air conditioning. Instead, I got an open field, sun, and a ball specifically designed to hurt.

  At least it wouldn’t last long. Hassan always threw way too hard and got people out almost immediately. He wasn't supposed to go full speed against the girls, but he always did it anyway. He had dreams of going professional. I had dreams of going back inside.

  I held the bat awkwardly. It was sized for the boys, not me, and did that little tap-on-the-ground thing the boys all did. I had no idea why they did it, but it looked important, and the perfectionist part of my brain refused to let me not at least try to play cricket. I took a deep breath while Hassan lined up at the other end of the… pitch? Grass. The other end of the grass.

  The heat made the air shimmer. I squinted at him as he started running toward me. His arm whipped around and…

  The ball came at me fast. Impossibly fast.

  I squeaked and swung.

  Thunk.

  The impact rattled straight up my arms.

  I hit it.

  Holy shit, I hit it!

  I didn’t even see where the ball went, but everyone started yelling at me to run, so I ran. I sprinted for the other wicket, legs pumping, heart pounding. The wicketkeeper ran past me.

  Wait. What? That wasn't how the game worked…

  The shouting turned into screaming. Kids scattered in every direction. A siren started blaring. I spun around, completely lost. And that’s when I saw it.

  The alien was huge. Wolf-like. Wrong in every possible way. It looked hungry. I had to run. I had to get away. The school building had security doors. Teachers. Safety.

  But I didn’t.

  Because Stacy tripped and went down hard. And Michael was hobbling on his crutches, way too slow. They were defenceless. A little voice told me that was good. I could get away while the alien went after them. I told that voice to shut the fuck up. There was no fucking way I was doing that. Besides, they were defenceless, but I wasn't. I had a bat. A bat, and a whole lot of pent-up rage.

  Fuck this alien.

  I lifted my bat, took a step forward and… I don’t remember what happened next.

  One second I was furious, and the next I was standing over a dead alien, chest heaving. My bat was splintered and covered in gore. I stared down at the thing, blinking. What? Did I… do that? I looked at Stacy. She was wide-eyed, frozen in place.

  “Was… was that me?” I asked.

  She nodded shakily. “You… you saved me.”

  “I did?”

  “We should probably go,” Michael said, hobbling closer. “There’ll be more.”

  “Right. Yeah.” My head was killing me. Why did my head hurt so much?

  “Stacy, can you help Michael?” I said.

  She nodded. “Y-yeah.”

  She tucked herself under his arm and they started moving. That’s when I saw the second alien. And the third. They looked like the first one. The dog things. Model Threes, maybe?

  “Keep going,” I said. “I’ll hold them off.”

  “You should leave me,” Michael said.

  “No,” I snapped. “You go. I’ll be fine. I have a bat—”

  I looked down. I did not have a bat. I had a handle. Shit.

  I spun around, heart hammering. We used two bats, right? One had to still be around. Or maybe one of those wooden post things.

  “Where’s that damn bat?” I muttered.

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  The aliens were stalking closer. Then a voice spoke inside my head.

  Would you like to purchase a bat? You currently have one hundred and ten points.

  I froze. That… came from inside my skull.

  “What?” I said out loud.

  Your point total is currently one hundred and ten. Would you like to purchase a bat?

  “Yes!” I yelled. “Give me a bat!”

  New purchase. Improvised melee weapons unlocked.

  Points reduced to: 60

  New purchase: Reinforced Cricket Bat.

  Points reduced to: 55

  A bat appeared out of thin air. I caught it by reflex just as the first alien lunged. I ducked and swung. Its head snapped sideways and it collapsed. I swung again and there was a spray of gore as its skull caved in.

  Behind you.

  I dove aside just as the third alien crashed where I’d been standing. One of its limbs clipped my ribs. Something cracked.

  I screamed and hit the ground hard, gasping for breath. My bat skidded away. My fingers scrabbled uselessly until they touched something round. The cricket ball. I hurled it at the alien. It bounced off harmlessly.

  Would you like a better throwing weapon?

  “YES!”

  Do you have a specific...

  “No!”

  New purchase: Basic thro...

  I ignored it and threw whatever appeared in my hand. It was round. Smooth. Heavy. I didn’t look. I just chucked.

  The thing launched out of my hand like it had been fired from a cannon. It punched straight through the alien and kept going, slamming into the dirt metres away. The Model Three collapsed, leaking gore from a fist-sized hole.

  I stared.

  Then pain reminded me I was still made of bones.

  “Oww…”

  You appear to have several broken ribs.

  “Y-you think?”

  I suggest seeking medical attention or additional antithesis. Your current point total is insufficient to purchase medical supplies.

  “I… what?”

  You require more points. Killing antithesis will provide them.

  “Right. Okay.” Every breath burned.

  Excellent, you understand.

  “Understand is a strong word. What are you? Where are you?”

  I am in your head. Approximately. My name is Alyrix. I am your companion AI.

  “My… AI? Am I a samurai now? When did that happen?”

  During your blood rage against the first Model Three you killed. You missed my greeting. You were distracted. The correct term is Vanguard.

  “I… what the fuck?”

  Not the most intelligent response, but my defence, my head hurt, my ribs hurt like a fucker, and it was still way too fucking hot. Even worse, the fucking flies would not get out of my face.

  You are a Vanguard. One of the few chosen to defend your planet against the Antithesis threat.

  “I know that. I meant more… you know,” I said, gesturing vaguely. Could the AI see my gestures?

  Ah, you were expressing surprise. I suggest you process quickly. It appears as if an incursion is in progress.

  She, it, was right. All around me AA guns were tracing lines of fire into the sky, intercepting swarms of aliens that were raining from the sky in giant pods. I watched one pod get torn to pieces by the guns on the school. However, despite the sheer amount of bullets filling the air, some were landing.

  “That… doesn't look good,” I muttered.

  It is not entirely optimal, no.

  The pain in my side flared. I grit my teeth and forced out my next words. “What do I do?”

  I suggest killing some Antithesis.

  Helpful.

  “I’m not about to just run off to find aliens.”

  No. In your state, running is not particularly wise. I would suggest walking.

  “That's not what I meant.”

  I know

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Could I just go hide in the school with the others? Pretend this never happened?”

  You could. But you won't.

  “You sound confident, why?”

  Because you were chosen for a reason. You will not sit idly by while the Antithesis threatens your home.

  Damn it, she was right.

  “Fine, what should I do? Just… wander until I find something to kill?”

  That is an option, but I suggest a different approach.

  “Suggest away.”

  I have seen at least two pods of Antithesis, almost certainly Model Threes, make landfall. I estimate that they are only a few hundred metres away. Destroy them, and you will have the necessary points to purchase some medical supplies.

  That's right. Points. Samurai killed shit, got points, and bought weapons to kill more shit even faster. Everyone knew that. It did raise a question though.

  “How many points do I have?” I wheezed through gritted teeth.

  You currently have 27 points. You received 100 points as the standard new Vanguard grant and ten points for each of three Model Threes that you killed, as well as two points for the humans you saved. You then spent 50 points each for the Improvised Melee Weapons and the Basic Thrown Weapons catalogues, 5 points on the bat, and another point on the Hand Propelled Kinetic Accelerator Mark 1, leaving you with 27.

  I began to nod, then paused.

  “Wait, that's 26 points, isn't it?”

  It is, I wanted to see if you were paying attention.

  I blinked.

  “You're not just saying that to cover up your mistake, right?”

  Of course not. I am a Protector AI. Simple arithmetic doesn't even count as thought for me.

  “Riiight.”

  I had serious misgivings about this AI at the moment, but I chose to ignore that for now. Instead I looked around for my fancy space bat. It was lying next to one of the dead aliens. I moved over to collect it.

  “The… Kinetic Accelerator. That was the orb thingy I threw?” I asked.

  Orb is a poor description. It is a sphere of an ultra-hard metallic alloy surrounding a limited capacity kinetic enhancer. When thrown, it rapidly accelerates in the direction of travel until it strikes a target or runs out of fuel.

  “So, it's a really fancy throwing rock,” I summarised.

  It's a really fancy throwing rock. It is not reusable and has limited range, and no guidance system, hence the low price point.

  “Can I buy more?”

  Certainly. How many would you like?

  I considered. “I can probably only carry two.”

  In that case, I would suggest either purchasing them individually as needed, or as a bundle of one dozen, which comes with a fashionable carry bag.

  “How heavy are they?” I asked.

  Moderately heavy. The dozen would likely be a significant burden given your current injury and small stature.

  I grimaced. I didn't need reminding that I was short. Or that my ribs hurt like hell. I thought for a moment, before deciding.

  “Give me two now, to stick in my pockets, and I’ll buy the others when I need them.”

  Certainly.

  New purchase. Hand Propelled Kinetic Accelerator Mark 1 x 2.

  Points reduced to: 26

  Two more of the featureless metal balls appeared, dropping into my outstretched palms. They were pretty big, about the size of a tennis ball, weighing maybe a kilo each. I tucked them into the pockets of my pants. Then I grabbed my bat, gasping with pain as I bent to do so. That really fucking hurt.

  “How many points do I need to fix this shit?” I asked.

  The catalogue will cost you 50 points. As for the actual repair, I would suggest spending 15 points for a Nano-Regenerative Suite. While not strictly necessary for this injury, it will remain in your system for some time as proof against any future injuries in the short term, as well as mend any existing minor ailments.

  “So, that's another five aliens?”

  Assuming Model Threes, yes.

  I hefted my bat.

  “Alright. Guess we’re going hunting then.”