“Leylah. Let’s have you first,” Dmitri said.

  Richard watched as Shrub set her down at the tent opening. Order could give her something to strengthen her, right? Leylah looked as though she were one stiff breeze away from collapsing into a heap. Marcus watched Leylah with sympathy, as did most of the people from Callro. Everyone else seemed to watch her with deep concern.

  The tent door fell. Richard’s heel kept tapping against the dirt. Amber and Fang kept shooting him worried glances, but he didn’t meet anyone’s gaze. Order’s time with Leylah shouldn’t have taken that long, but it felt like a lifetime to Richard.

  Leylah slipped out again, and Richard studied her carefully. He wanted to see if there had been any change in her, like if Order had helped her grow stronger, but the only difference was a small smile on her face.

  “Guard.”

  As he expected, no one was surprised by this. Izzy seemed to give a slight bow as though to acknowledge the class before Shrub opened his arms. Leylah shook her head and made her careful way through the crowd. Shrub glanced at Lucy as though to check what he should do, and she shrugged.

  As Amber was called up, Shrub followed Leylah at a distance to at least make sure she got back to the healer’s alright, and Richard figured that was the best anyone could expect.

  Amber walked out soon after, trying to smile. “Farmer.”

  Also, no surprise as Fang stood up and switched her spots. Amber sat back down on the bench, and Richard resisted the urge to lean over and ask her questions. All these people had clearly seen Order. No one came out saying it was all a scam. Is that what he expected everyone to do? Even after seeing Death himself?

  Fang walked out, and Richard’s heart was pounding in his chest knowing he was next.

  “Farmer,” Fang said.

  He then sat down next to Richard. Richard glanced at Dmitri, who gestured for him to go next. Richard stared at the tent door, took a deep breath, then let it out as he stood up. He walked to the tent, ignoring that his heart was trying to escape out of his chest. He stepped inside, glancing at his feet.

  “Hello, Richard.”

  That voice was so odd. It wasn’t like any human voice he’d ever heard. It had an echo to it, like the woman was building the very fabric of words with her thoughts to make them understandable to a mortal like him.

  “Order, I assume?” Richard asked.

  “I am.”

  It was strange to be looking at the ground, so he tried to study this being as much as possible. She wore a pale gray pantsuit with matching flats. Her hair was white and pulled into a bun. She paced around the room, touching the shirts Lucy had scattered around the tent. Richard watched the shirts pull themselves together like they needed nothing more than Order herself to touch them.

  “I understand that you have many questions. My system is strong, but at such a low level, you will get exhausted being in my presence. You may sit in a chair or kneel.”

  “I will not kneel.” Richard clamped his mouth shut, terrified at how easily those words had come out of him.

  Order didn’t seem bothered by them. “I understand that your world takes kneeling to be one of worship. I also understand completely your feelings about higher beings.” Order glanced at him, and Richard made sure to study the tent for a chair instead of her eyes. Since there were none he could see, he slowly sat down cross-legged.

  He had many questions for her, but none he felt like he could say.

  “I know your questions, Richard,” Order said, neatly folding the shirts she had mended. “All of them. I cannot answer them all because of the limitations of your mortal mind. I am here for one reason alone. To grant you your class and gift you with an ability to help you.”

  Richard swallowed. “I… am not sure what class to take.”

  “I know. For some people, the choice comes easily. For others, they have multiple options, all of which they could thrive with.”

  “I’m sorry, do you know what class I’ll take?” Richard asked.

  “I see a few possibilities. All are good. I only give that which will help fight back this apocalypse.”

  Richard kept staring at the ground, his brows furrowed. He still couldn’t believe he was here, talking to a higher being.

  “So what are they?” Richard asked.

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  Order chuckled as she brushed her hand over three more shirts. “I can tell you which one I believe you would thrive best under. Is that your wish? You do not strike me as a person who enjoys being told by a higher power what to do.”

  Richard wet his dry lips before talking. “I’d like to hear your thoughts.”

  “There were a couple of moments when you came to this planet that I noticed you most clearly,” Order said. “The biggest moment was this.”

  Order snapped her fingers, and Richard was watching a memory like he were out of his own body. He and Fang were sitting at the table, talking and laughing, eating a barely cooked pan of vegetables.

  “You took the chaos Fang was feeling and helped him through it.”

  “Therapist?” Richard asked, feeling himself grow lightheaded. “I… I’m not… can I pass?”

  Order smiled. “Not a therapist. Look again.”

  Richard frowned, studying the scene. More importantly, he saw Fang grow more and more relaxed as he ate. “I… I don’t know how this applies.”

  “Your mind is troubled because you enjoy potion making but also have a touch of healing about you. But what if there was another gift entirely that had both options woven together?” Order snapped her fingers, and the memory changed to him and Amber talking. Amber kept asking him for advice, and Richard thought of the brilliant idea of having her talk to Elwyndor. “What if there was a way to strengthen base camp two not with potions or healing, but with food?”

  Richard’s eyebrows rose as he thought about it. “Wait…” He started considering the possibilities. “Do you mean… like certain meals that could give buffs?”

  “Yes. With the abilities I’m willing to give, you can make food to give them a certain percentage of strength for a set amount of time. Or to give them an added boost in stealth or in health. Food has many possibilities, both in buffs and in healing.”

  Richard tried to imagine it. There was something incredibly tempting about it all. Order was right; there were a ton of possibilities with this class.

  “I’m assuming this class would be in the special gifts? So I’d be working with Timick and the others?”

  “Yes, that would be its category. An emphasis on my special gift instead of your actual class, because I don’t think you’ll like working as your class,” Order said.

  Richard’s brows furrowed. “What would be…” He trailed off, realizing exactly what she meant. If he was to be a cook, there was only one natural conclusion for someone who was working with food, but differently. “Shit, are you serious? You’re making me a farmer?”

  Order started folding mended shirts again. “I’m not making you do anything. This is an option you yourself can choose. But I already sensed your interest in this class.”

  Richard resisted the urge to grind his teeth. “Is there another option?”

  The shirts were folded so perfectly it made Richard uncomfortable.

  “Are you throwing away a gift you are interested in because the base class itself is something you dislike? Besides, look at Timick, Lucy, and Kali. They rarely use their base class. I mention this gift as an option because it is one I can see you being the happiest with.”

  “Okay, then what about scavenger? We haven’t talked about that one.”

  Order stilled, and the hairs on the back of Richard’s neck stood straight up.

  “If you were to be a scavenger, you would die,” Order said.

  Richard’s mouth went dry, and swallowing didn’t help at all. Having Order, a higher being, confirm he would die didn’t help his anxiety at all.

  Order turned toward him, and out of complete instinct, Richard met her gaze. He couldn’t comprehend her eyes, like he struggled to understand her voice. All he knew was it took an effort to drop his eyes, and his body shivered.

  “Do you want my class, Richard? This is the one I see you being the happiest,” Order said.

  “Happiest?” Richard still had too many questions. He couldn’t decide yet. Why was Order changing the subject?

  “Do you not want me to be a scavenger?” Richard asked.

  Silence again. Order was busy fixing other shirts. If Order wasn’t a higher power, he could almost convince himself that she didn’t hear him. However, she had given the impression that she could read the thoughts in his mind.

  Richard asked the question that had been weighing on his mind since the first fifteen minutes after he arrived on this planet. “Do you know what the time anomalies are that I experience?”

  Order began folding shirts like her life depended on it. It was strange to see her do her job so hastily, and yet the shirts were perfectly folded.

  “I am incapable of lying, Richard,” Order said, her voice low. “So, I need you to understand something. Those time anomalies are my brother’s doing. He has once again found loopholes in my contract and has caused untold destruction to this planet. If you join my brother’s side, I will make sure you die.”

  Richard felt the color drain from his face. Even though he was sitting down, he was lightheaded and wanted to curl into the fetal position. The truth of her words entered his very soul, and he found he could not speak.

  Order sighed, then waved her hand. Richard gasped for air, wondering what she had done to him.

  “I come off a little strong. I apologize. My brother has been meddling with this planet for a while now, and I find myself tired of his games. The choice is still yours, of course, but despite everything I’ve said, I still sense a curiosity about you that will not rest until you’ve talked to my brother.” Order lifted her two pointer fingers, bringing them down together before separating them. In Richard’s vision, two skill trees appeared. There were nine squares in both skill trees, but only the bottom three were visible to him. One tree was labeled ‘Farmer,’ and the other ‘Order’s Gift.’ “But I do not trust my brother, either. I will not leave you to him without giving you my gift and class.”

  Richard didn’t agree to these, but Order framed it like he wouldn’t get a choice in the matter. Despite everything, he found himself annoyed at her shoving this on him.

  “I’m not shoving this on you,” Order said, healing a few more shirts and folding them. “I simply do not trust my brother.”

  When she folded the last shirt, she blipped out of existence. Richard felt a chill hit him. “Wait.” But she was gone. All the questions he still had that he wanted to ask her tumbled into his mind. He scrambled to his feet. “Order, wait!” She gave the impression that Richard needed to talk to Chaos. What exactly did that mean? Did that mean he was coming now? Richard wasn’t even sure he wanted to talk to Chaos.

  “Hello.”

  The voice was deep and had a similar echoing quality to it that sounded nothing like Order’s. More like the most random things were being pulled into words that almost made sense.

  Richard spun around and saw a man sitting exactly where he had once sat. The man tossed a brush into the air, and it flipped a few times before the man caught it again with an almost roguish grin.

  “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to talk to you, Richard Walker?” Chaos asked.