"Is there somewhere I can wash this shit off?" I asked, gesturing at the crusted mess coating my uniform. I flicked my sleeve and a chunk of gore hit the dirt with a soft thump. The thumps were already huddled around Ryker, sketching defensive positions in the dirt for the next wave.

  Ryker glanced up, his face softening for just a moment. "Lodge by the parking lot. There should be showers, or at least a hose outside. My family and I used to come here every summer." His eyes went distant, haunted, before the mask of command slammed back into place. “Hurry. We'll need you ready in fifteen."

  I nodded and trudged toward the lot, every step reminding me of everything I was carrying. Not just the gear, but the responsibility of everything that had happened in the last few hours.

  The hose was right where Ryker said it'd be, coiled against the lodge's weathered siding. I cranked the spigot and braced myself for the cold. Air burped out of the end before water began sprouting from the end. I began peeling away my shirt and pants with a sickening squelch, the fabric stiff with dried blood and that viscous green ichor from the creatures. Clumps of dirt had mixed with the mess, creating a foul paste that clung to every crease.

  My uniform was definitely ruined. It was tattered and ruined. Captain Howard would have a heart attack if he saw this.

  I focused back the rest of my body and braced myself. The icy water hit like a slap, and I sucked in a sharp breath. The grime came off in rivers of green, red and brown, splattering onto the pavement in abstract patterns. I scrubbed at my arms, my chest, watching the filth swirl down the slight grade toward the storm drain. I scrubbed harder, I could feel my hands shake but it wasn’t from the cold. My skin quickly became raw as I scrubbed harder. As if I could scrub the fear away with the gore.

  That's when I noticed them.

  The muscles.

  I'd always kept in decent shape. Had to for the academy, then for the job. But this? This was something else entirely. My arms looked like they belonged to someone who lived in a gym. Every muscle was defined, sharp, the kind of definition you'd see on a Men's Health cover. I ran a hand across my stomach. Actual abs, not just the suggestion of them.

  And the scars. The appendectomy scar from when I was twelve. The jagged line across my forearm from a domestic call gone sideways three years back. The old burn mark on my shoulder. All of them were gone. My skin was smooth, unmarked, like I'd been carved fresh from marble.

  I stared at my reflection in the lodge window, water still streaming down my body. I looked like something Michelangelo might have sculpted. Perfect. Impossible.

  What the hell was this System doing to us? I couldn’t recognize the imperfections that made me… well, me.

  As the thought swirled in my mind a low whistle sounded from behind, snapping me back to reality.

  Kira was walking towards me, my go bag in her hands and a larger tac shirt resting on top.

  “Holy shit Elias” her eyes wide as she took in my new physique. Her gaze traveled from my shoulders down to my abs before she caught herself and looked away, a faint flush creeping up her cheeks.

  "Yeah, I know," I said, reaching for the bag. "It's weird."

  "Weird?" She let out a breathless laugh. "You look like you could bench press a patrol car." She tossed me the bag, and I caught it one-handed. "Here. Figured you'd want actual clothes instead of that gore-covered mess. The shirt is Logan's since I doubt yours would fit anymore"

  "Thanks, Kira." I shook off the water the best I could like a dog and put on the fresh shirt. It clung to my damp skin but fit surprisingly well. I fished out the spare pants, grateful she'd thought of the go bag. Most people wouldn't have. But Kira always noticed the details, always thought three steps ahead. It was one of the things that made her a damn good cop.

  One of many things, actually.

  Kira settled onto the curb nearby as I got dressed, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her slender legs. Her auburn hair fell forward, framing her face as she stared out at the parking lot. The late afternoon sun caught the copper highlights, but her expression was anything but bright.

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  Something was wrong. I'd seen Kira handle domestics, bar fights, even a hostage situation last year without losing her composure. But right now, she looked small. Scared.

  "You okay?" I asked, sitting down beside her.

  She was quiet for a long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "Are we going to die here, Elias?"

  The question hit harder than I expected. Not because I didn't know the answer, but because hearing the fear in her voice made it real in a way the monsters and the blood hadn't.

  "I keep thinking about it," she continued, still not looking at me. "About how many of those things keep coming. How we're just… we're just people, you know? Cops with guns and some weird video game powers we don't understand. And they keep sending more." She hugged her knees tighter. "It feels like no matter what we do, we're destined to lose."

  I wanted to tell her she was wrong. Wanted to give her some speech about how we'd make it through this, how we always did. But the words stuck in my throat because she wasn't wrong. Not really.

  "I don't know," I said finally, the honesty feeling like a relief. "I wish I could tell you we're all walking away from this, but I don't know."

  She turned to look at me then, her green eyes searching my face. Looking for what, I couldn't say. Reassurance? Truth? Maybe both.

  "This gate," I continued, nodding toward where the rift had opened hours before. "Where do you think it comes from? Are they natural? Some kind of weapon? A dimensional tear?" I shook my head. "And why here? Why now? None of it makes sense."

  "Maybe it's not supposed to make sense," Kira said softly. "Maybe that's the point. Keep us confused, keep us scared, keep us scrambling while they…" She trailed off, the implication hanging between us.

  While they what? Invaded? Harvested? Exterminated?

  I looked at her profile, at the way her jaw was set even as her eyes betrayed her fear. Kira Ashwood had always been the toughest person I knew, but she'd never pretended to be fearless. That was the difference between bravery and stupidity. She acknowledged the danger and faced it anyway.

  God, she was something else.

  "Hey," I said, reaching out to touch her arm. She looked down at my hand, then back up at me. "Whatever this is, whatever's coming through those gates… we face it together. You, me, Logan, everyone else who's still standing. We might not win, but we sure as hell won't make it easy for them."

  A ghost of a smile touched her lips. "Together, huh?"

  "Together," I confirmed.

  She leaned her head against my shoulder. I could feel her warmth through my shirt. We sat like that for a moment, watching the sun sink lower in the sky, painting everything in shades of gold and amber. Only then did I register the ballad of crickets, frogs and birds raising in chorus. They finally braved the open air now that the air no longer rang of gunfire.

  I was once again struck by the floral smell of the trees and plants around, enhanced unnaturally by whatever was happening in the park.

  My head swam as every sense came alive with the mysterious energy that seemed to permeate the air.

  In another life, in another world, this might have been peaceful. Might have even been romantic, sitting here with someone I'd started to care about more than I probably should.

  I would have given anything to make this moment last forever.

  But the world had ended this morning, and we were sitting on a curb covered in monster blood, waiting for the next wave to try and kill us.

  I sealed the moment in a memory and I knew when things got dark, I would look back at this moment for a sliver of peace.

  "You really do look jacked though," Kira said cutting through my quiet reverie "Like, unreasonably jacked."

  I huffed a laugh. "Yeah, well. Silver lining to the apocalypse, I guess. If you survive, you get jacked”

  Kira didn’t say anything for a moment as we continued staring at the sunset, her head resting comfortably against my shoulder "If we survive this, you're buying me dinner to celebrate," she said, and there was something in her voice that made my chest tighten. "Somewhere nice. Not the usual diner."

  "Deal," I said, my heart beating a little faster. "But you're setting the bar pretty high with 'if we survive.'"

  She lifted her head and bumped her shoulder against mine. "Gotta have something to fight for, Elias."

  Yeah. Something to fight for. I liked the sound of that.

  I looked down at where our hands rested on the curb, inches apart. Close enough to touch if either of us were brave enough to close the distance.

  Not yet, I thought. But maybe. If we made it through this. If the world gave us that chance.

  "We should get back," Kira said, but she didn't move right away.

  Neither did I.

  Just a few more seconds of being human. Of feeling something other than fear and adrenaline. Of pretending that maybe, just maybe, there'd be a tomorrow worth fighting for.

  Then she stood, offering me her hand. I took it, letting her pull me up. Her grip was strong, steady.

  "Come on, He-man," she said with a smirk that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Let's go save the world."

  I looked at her in shock. “How in the hell do you know who He-man is? Isn't he way before your time”

  She beamed at me as we walked back towards the others. “My dad liked to watch the classics together but if you prefer I could call you Goku” she winked mischievously as I felt my jaw hang open. She skipped ahead of me and I just followed in stunned silence.

  Be still my beating heart. I was in trouble, big fucking trouble.

  Something had shifted between us. Something fragile and important that I couldn't quite name. Or at least I pretended I couldn’t name.

  Either way it was something I desperately wanted to protect.