We stayed low and waited almost an hour to make sure the coast was clear before driving out of the carpark. While we waited, we talked through what had just happened. More importantly, we tried to figure out why we ran.

  We had faced bigger mobs before and survived. Jess was the one who said what we were all thinking. We did not want to fight, and possibly kill, another human being. If this sector was populated with people instead of creatures, then what were we supposed to do?

  When would we decide to cross that line?

  I felt anger rise in me. This was another scenario the AI was putting us through. In the north sector, it tested what we would do once we received powers. Here, it was testing what happened when there was a power vacuum. I did not need a history or psychology degree to see that. I had watched enough movies.

  We needed more information, and to get that, we needed to move. We had just started rolling off the carpark exit ramp when I heard a sharp knock on my passenger-side window.

  “Stop,” I said to Shawn.

  I looked out but could not see anyone. Then a tiny finger reached up and tapped the glass again.

  “What the fuck,” I said, pulling back as the finger kept rapping on the window. Shawn’s hand began to glow, and Siva leaned forward from the back, ready to strike with his shorter wakizashi.

  “No, wait,” Jess said from behind, motioning for me to lower the window.

  I hesitated, then did as she asked. When I leaned out, I saw that the finger was attached to a hand, then an arm, then to a little girl with wild, unruly hair staring up at me. She looked at me with large brown eyes and gave a small smile. She was wearing Hello Kitty pajamas set and green children’s Crocs.

  “Where did you come from?” I asked her, still scanning the area.

  She pointed to herself, then pointed at me.

  “Are you all right? Do you need help?” I asked, glancing at the others. Siva looked confused. Jess’s expression was concerned as she checked our surroundings. Shawn only grinned.

  The girl kept pointing from herself to me, more insistently.

  “She wants to come in,” Shawn said at last.

  “Uh, we don’t know if this is a—”

  I did not get to finish because Shawn reached over and opened the door.

  “Jess, alignment?” I asked as the girl climbed into the truck, clambered over me, and settled between Shawn and me in the front.

  “She is Chaotic Good,” Jess said at the same time Shawn put the truck in reverse and backed us deeper into the carpark. That was a good call. We were too exposed sitting on the exit ramp.

  As Shawn backed up, the girl, who looked about seven years old, started frantically patting Shawn's arm and pointing forward.

  “You want us to take you somewhere?” Shawn asked, stopping the truck. She nodded vigorously. “And you know the way?” He asked again. She nodded even harder. I half expected her head to snap off.

  I took the opportunity to study the girl while Shawn talked to her.

  She looked Malay, or mixed, like me. Despite her unruly hair, she wasn’t dirty or grimy. In fact, she seemed well taken care of, her fingernails were recently clipped, and she had no visible signs of neglect. When she climbed over me to settle between Shawn and me, I felt she was lighter than I expected. Still, what did I know? I’d kept my distance even from my own nieces and nephews back in the old world.

  The ping from the party chat broke my focus.

  Jess: She has a debuff on her. [Mute]. Someone cast a spell on her. I get the feeling it’s been a while. Who would do that to a kid?

  Shawn: You never knew any kids you just wished would shut up back in your time?

  Jess: Really? Really, Shawn?

  Siva: I think we need to go. I’m not comfortable being here. They could show up any time.

  Shawn glanced at me, meeting my eyes. He nodded once.

  “Alright, kid, stop hitting me. We’re going. Lead the way,” Shawn said, and the girl finally stopped patting his arm. She pointed straight ahead.

  “You keep doing that and I’m going to call you Waze,” Shawn joked, laughing at his own humor, while the rest of us groaned.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Waze, Shawn’s name for her, guided us through small streets and carparks until we were back on the highway. The drive was quiet as we followed her lead. Jess wanted to stop to give her a once-over, like any good doctor would when finding a child alone, but we reminded her that her ability to see debuffs and conditions already did the job. Siva, however, was strangely quiet.

  Chris: Siva, you okay, buddy?

  Siva: This is the first kid we’ve seen. You guys seen any kids in the north?

  I wanted to ask if he meant other than himself, but I held my tongue.

  That was a good call, though. I tapped Waze on the shoulder, and she looked up at me. Her big eyes were impossibly cute.

  “Have you ever played any computer or board games before?” I asked.

  She shook her head, and that felt… off.

  In the north, we’d assumed every survivor had some gaming experience. Even Jess had volunteered at her local library for Learn D&D Day and rolled dice with kids. It seemed strange that Waze had never played a game before but was still in this world.

  The alternative was that this sector could have only non-gamers, and those idiots we encountered earlier might be the ones who adapted to the system faster. I shared my theory in the team chat, and the others cautiously agreed that this could be the case, but we still needed more data.

  I couldn’t help but wonder how many people had died because they hadn’t intuitively picked up the system. The thought stirred my anger again as I felt it rise within. From behind me, Jess laid a hand on my shoulder, and a calming wave washed over me. I felt the tension I didn’t even realize I was holding fade away. She had cast a spell on me, one to soothe my anger. I turned and nodded at her in silent thanks.

  “It’s what I do, Chris,” she said softly.

  We continued down the highway, following Waze’s directions. She pointed left and right, humming a tune none of us recognized.

  “Are we heading to the BRTC?” Shawn asked as we took a right to exit the highway and entered a smaller road.

  He was right. The road we were on led to residential areas, but more prominently, it took us toward where most of Singapore’s cemeteries were located, and where the Basic Rescue and Training Center was located. The BRTC was a state-of-the-art training facility for firefighters, paramedics, and rescue personnel. I’d spent some time there during my mandatory two years of national service, training new recruits.

  I wondered what we would find there, but I didn’t have to wonder for long. Waze guided us directly to the entrance of the BRTC, where guards armed with spears and crossbows stopped us. They let us through after Waze signaled something to them. We followed the winding road in, and I half expected some form of militarized group based on the location. Instead, we rolled into what looked like a village.

  A village of refugees. In the main parade square where we used to practice marching, tents were set up, bearing equipment and sundries. A soup kitchen was erected at the far end, near where the mess hall stood.

  People walked up and down the corridors of the barracks buildings, hanging out and talking.

  I rubbed my temples, staring at the scene. Shawn whistled low, and Siva and Jess also leaned out curiously, lowering their windows.

  Waze led us around a corner where other vehicles were parked, mostly ambulances and fire trucks. I spotted a huge personnel carrier. I trained for that once. It was meant to be deployed for mass casualty events like an earthquake or a bomb attack. Once we parked, she once again climbed over me and stepped out, jumping down the short distance.

  We stepped out, still taking in the scene. The settlement was made up of people of all ages, many with mismatched or scavenged equipment. I saw elderly people and children walking side by side, along with younger adults. Very few were armed or armored.

  I noticed Siva looked closely at any Indian lady that walked past us, his face hopeful. I squeezed his shoulder and sent him a private message.

  Chris: If she's here, we'll find her. But first let's get our bearings. Alright?

  He gave me a tight lipped smile but continued scanning the crowd.

  Waze ran toward a woman in a plain dress, her clothing simple but well-worn. The woman looked to be around my age, maybe a little younger, early forties, perhaps. She caught Waze in her arms, speaking softly to her. I couldn’t catch the words, but it sounded like she was scolding the child. She hugged Waze tightly before lifting her up and walking toward us.

  “Thank you for bringing her back,” the woman said as she approached, her voice weary but warm. “She runs off sometimes, and I don’t know what to do with her anymore.”

  Jess stepped forward and introduced us, mentioning that we’d come in from the north. The woman frowned, clearly puzzled by the mention of the north.

  “I didn’t know we could leave this place,” she said, her voice tinged with confusion. “None of us know. We tried leaving before, but we couldn’t get past the barrier.”

  She set Waze down, and the child immediately darted off, disappearing into the crowd of people that milled about, talking and trading.

  “What is this place?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around everything.

  The woman hesitated for a moment, then sighed, casting a weary glance over the camp. “This is where we gathered after the Temple started attacking us... trying to convert us. They let us stay here, for now, but none of us know how much longer we’ll be safe. They’ll come for us again.”

  I frowned. “The… Temple?”

  She looked at me, a bit apologetic. “Oh, sorry. This must all be very new to you. Come, sit down. I’ll explain. I’m Farah.”

  Farah led the way toward the mess hall. The air around us was thick with the smell of cooking food, mingling with the sharp tang of sweat and dust from the long days. The ground beneath our feet was uneven, with patches of dirt and crumbled pavement poking through the scattered stones. As we walked, the residents, people of all ages, many dressed in ragged clothes or mismatched armor watched us closely, some of them with cold stares, others with open hostility.

  A few children ran past, laughing, while adults moved quietly between tents and makeshift shops, trading scraps of metal, cloth, and food. The hum of low conversations and occasional raised voices created a constant background noise, but there was an undercurrent of tension, like the entire camp couldn’t really exist in peace.

  Farah led us to a small wooden table in the mess hall area, where a couple of people sat, eating in silence. They looked up at us as we approached, but said nothing.

  “Welcome to New Jurong,” Farah said quietly, her voice a mixture of resignation and hope.