The mood lightened the farther we drove west. Shawn was back to his old self, telling long-ass stories that rarely landed. I was not sure if it was the Soul Gem at his neck keeping the darkness at bay, or if it was because we were finally making forward strides.

  We both wanted to smoke as we drove, but a stern talking-to from Jess shut that down. I sometimes forgot she was a doctor, given how she took down creatures with her weapon. I had noticed she always chose targets that looked distinctly non-human. Anything with a human face, she left to someone else or turned away from.

  Siva opened up to Jess and Shawn about his sister, how she had left after following an NPC on a quest and never returned. We vowed that if she was in the west, we would find her.

  The ride took us past quiet factories and housing estates. At a junction, three men in construction helmets were fighting a nest of little white things with too many teeth. A woman in a blazer held a signboard like a shield. I slowed, but a squad in yellow armbands cut in and took over with calm efficiency. They had a system. They had this.

  A little farther on, an industrial block glowed faintly along its edges. A team of six jogged in with spears and swords, laughing the way nervous people laugh. They passed through a shimmering pane in the lobby and vanished as if someone had pulled a curtain across the frame. The light folded in behind them and the building looked ordinary again, but it was not. Nothing was ordinary anymore. I bristled, thinking of how many were walking toward their deaths.

  I widened the map on my HUD and panned through the North, district after district. Every sector I checked was clear of Crimson Zones, at least for us.

  “I think we are playing on a board with more layers than we can see,” I said. “We cleared five Crimson Zones. The message says North is done. But people are still getting locked into their own five somewhere inside this same space. It is like multiple boards on the same table. Or a multi-level, fucked-up version of 4D chess. Some groups are still taking their turns.”

  Jess watched the road. “Then we leave them a safer North than we found,” she said.

  Did we? I doubted it. Whoever was still stuck in the North had their own set of horrors to contend with before they could leave.

  It was not long before we reached the point pinging on our maps. We were still on the highway, pushing through overgrown vines and debris, but the Grave Digger could handle it. A shimmering red wall hung across the lanes ahead, and I eased us to a stop. The translucent barrier spanned the horizon. I checked the map again. If my memory of Singapore was right, this was where we crossed into the western territory of our City-State.

  “So… we are just going to drive through that?” Shawn asked from the passenger seat.

  I looked around the truck. Siva had his new wakizashi across his lap. Jess gripped her morningstar so hard her knuckles were white.

  Shawn shrugged. “I cannot hold my scythe in the truck. I would have to stand in the back.”

  I smiled and rolled forward, keeping a steady pace. We braced as the hood touched the light and… nothing happened. We passed through. The road continued like any other stretch of tarmac. But two things changed at once. The first was the sun.

  We gasped, and I pulled over as the sudden brightness washed the world in gold. We climbed out and stood in the lane, faces lifted to the warmth. After weeks of endless nights in the North, this felt like a benediction. I almost cried.

  Shawn was in the middle of the road, spinning in slow circles with his head tipped back, laughing. A car horn jolted him out of it and he hopped to the shoulder as a convoy of seven taxis rolled past, each driver giving us a quick salute on the horn. In the last cab, the kid with the slingshot leaned out and waved. I waved back.

  The second thing we noticed was the road looked good. Fresh blacktop, clean lane markings. No split asphalt, no vines breaking through. For a second it felt like the old world.

  The HUD announcement killed the illusion.

  [Location: Western Zone]

  [Exit Ability: North — Allowed]

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  [Exit Ability: South — Locked]

  [Exit Condition: Loading. Please standby]

  Standby? What did that even mean? I maximized the map and started panning for prompts. Jess cleared her throat.

  “Share your view,” she said.

  “Right. Sorry.” I pushed it to the party.

  “You know what, you are better at this than me,” I said to Jess. “Take over. Last time you saved our asses with the map.”

  We gathered at the hood while the engine idled. In our shared view, Jess swept the map with quick, practiced motions.

  “We can still go back north,” she said. “And… that is strange.”

  She closed the map and looked up. “There are no Crimson Zones in the west.”

  I thought of the system line again.

  [Exit Condition: Loading. Please standby]

  What had we walked into?

  We decided to leave the highway and head for a residential zone. Jurong East had multiple malls and we picked West Gate. We settled back in the Grave Digger as Shawn took the wheel.

  On the way in, we saw survivors moving along the roads and under void decks. Some pushed shopping carts. When we slowed to talk, they waved us off or jogged away. No one met our eyes. It felt wrong.

  We rolled up onto the broad paved plaza in front of the megamall. Just as I stepped out of our vehicle, the square woke up.

  Vehicles slid out from behind pillars and underground ramps, even from inside the mall. Dune buggies, golf carts, souped-up PMDs. Flags snapped on poles tied to the vehicles. Spears and poleaxes rose. A pickup roared to a stop facing us. There was a ballista in the bed, already cranked. A man in gleaming chainmail and a bandana stood with a hand on the trigger.

  Doors opened all around as people in varying armor stepped out, while archers took position on hoods and roofs. The circle tightened.

  Shawn went straight to party chat.

  Shawn: What the fuck is going on.

  Siva: They do not look friendly.

  Chris: No idea. Keep the engine running. I am stepping out to talk. They might just be scared. Like us.

  Jess: Bad idea, Chris.

  Chris: I know. Stand by. Do not get out.

  I slipped down with my hands up and walked three steps forward.

  “Hey. We are friendly,” I called. The nearest buggy idled about ten meters away. I could hear the collective hum of all their engines.

  The pickup door opened. A man climbed down and walked out, never taking his eyes off me. From here, he looked Malay, had long hair, and was wearing a vest, cargo pants, and military boots. He carried a crossbow. No. I squinted and saw that was wrong. The crossbow was fused to his forearm. My skin crawled.

  He studied me for a long beat and then raised his voice.

  “Welcome to West Gate,” he said, arms spread. “Nice truck. You from outside?”

  “From the north,” I said. “We just got in. We are not looking for a fight. We want to know what is going on.”

  He paced a line, still facing me, like he was testing the weight of a choice.

  “Who do you serve?” he asked, finally stopping and turning to face me.

  Chris: Shawn, on my mark, reverse us out. I have a bad feeling.

  Shawn: We are clear behind. I do not like this.

  “Serve?” I asked. “Am I supposed to say God? We serve no one. Just ourselves and our friends.”

  His smile sharpened. He lifted his arm and pointed.

  “Oh, we serve God,” he said. “The God in the System. We are his acolytes and I am his messiah.”

  Whoops rose from his circle as spears thumped against a hood in rhythm.

  “And there is no place here,” he shouted, “for worshippers of the old world.”

  He stabbed a finger at me.

  Chris: Go.

  Shawn slammed the truck into reverse. Tyres screamed as the Grave Digger jolted back just as engines around us revved to life.

  I activated the Boots and ran. The world stretched to meet me. I caught the passenger door as it flew past and dove into the passenger seat.

  “Go! Go!” I yelled.

  Shawn yanked the wheel. The truck swung in a hard one-eighty and bit for grip. The convoy behind us surged. A bolt hissed past the mirror and shattered against a pillar. An archer on a buggy shot again, but it flew off the truck harmlessly.

  Buggies and golf carts drew even on either side of us. Jess lowered her window and slashed her palm forward, aiming high. I heard the air snap as a golf cart’s canopy ripped off and the driver flinched, swerving into a planter.

  I popped the window on my side, nocked, and took the shot with the new bow, aiming for the wheels. Blowback triggered on impact. The rider lurched as if punched by a giant and the buggy fishtailed, clipped a curb, and rolled. Two more carts tried to cut us off and ate dust instead. The Grave Digger had more engine than anything on that plaza and Shawn used every bit of it.

  “Ballista,” Siva warned, turning back.

  The pickup had joined the chase. The man on the rig stood swaying from the pursuit, but he was still on the ballista. Shawn cut right into a side road as a huge bolt flew past us and slammed into a traffic sign, splintering it.

  We shot through the side road, Shawn making multiple turns and cutbacks before finally turning into a dark multi-storey carpark. Shawn killed the engine as we slid into a slot behind a low wall and sat very still.

  Engines swarmed the block. Voices echoed, thin and angry. One cart squealed up the carpark ramp, paused, then backed up and kept going. We stayed quiet until the noise thinned and drifted away.

  No one spoke for a moment. I could hear all of us breathing.

  Our HUDs pinged.

  [System Update: War is brewing in the West. Multiple factions have emerged, each fighting for superiority and control.]

  [Objective: Choose a side and win the West.]

  [Exit Condition: Total control of the West.]

  What the holy fuck…