“President Warner has not only declared martial law nation-wide, but has urged Governors, Mayors, and others in positions of power to form factions through the Collective. Despite this advice, the president has so far remained silent on how to gain the billion nano required to form a faction.”

  Jennifer Taylor continued to smile as she transmitted video live through the interface. Despite still being imprisoned, her time was not wasted. She had spent hours learning how to utilize the new tool, and was determined to rebuild her following on the AI’s social media platform.

  So far, she was the only one in the game.

  “Perhaps Blake Summers will have an answer for us once he arrives.” Oliver’s message arrived almost thirty minutes before, and she was glad for the hook for her audience.

  She had been live for almost half an hour, and quickly ran out of news to share. To keep the stream entertaining, she decided to interact with her audience. Jennifer’s eyes slightly glazed over as she read through some of her chat messages. Over ten thousand people had joined since she started her stream, and the messages moved almost too fast to follow.

  Once she learned Blake was on his way, she immediately set up a stream titled, ‘Watch Blake Summers Rescue Me Live - Wrongfully Imprisoned’, and people flooded in to watch it. They loved the backdrop of the dimly lit jail cell behind her, especially when the deputy walked by to check on their charges.

  Eleven thousand viewers now. Once I get to The Dome, I need to set up subscriptions.

  She had already attempted to tie chat to donations, but was notified the feature was unavailable outside a faction town. With no way to limit the amount of people who could respond, she was forced to parse through quite a bit of message spam.

  But with Oliver’s influence, she was certain she would be within the faction shortly.

  Bobby immediately banned a person who repeated ‘Blake is the enemy!’ over and over again, along with a creep who said they want to lick her toes. Her now unnecessary cameraman figured out how to moderate her stream just before Oliver messaged her.

  What is wrong with people?

  Finally, she found a message she could respond to. “I agree, Shannon Murphy, it does seem as if President Warner is in over his head.” Jennifer read another message and shook her head, “No Jonathan Blackwell, I don’t think he took Blake’s warnings seriously. Perhaps if he had, the government would be more organized and fewer lives would be lost.”

  Where the hell is Blake? I thought he could run like a hundred miles an hour. We’re only fifteen miles away.

  Jennifer’s live stream was approaching forty minutes, and she could only delay for so long before her viewers would lose interest. She needed them excited to tune in, and eager to return. That way, when she monetized her channel, she would be rich.

  “Jen, I think I hear something,” Bobby, her cameraman turned moderator, interrupted her thoughts.

  She cocked her head to the side and remained silent. Faintly, she could hear shouts through the walls. Then, out of nowhere, gunshots resounded.

  “I’m not sure if you can hear that through the stream, but the police seem to be firing their weapons. Is that Blake Summers, finally here to save us?”

  “What else would it be?” Marcus, her ex-pilot, mumbled.

  Of course, I know it’s him. It’s called showmanship!

  Jennifer tamped down on her annoyance and kept a smile plastered across her face. Finally, after seven rounds were expended, they heard only silence.

  “It seems, whatever battle took place outside is now over,” she announced to her viewers with a fake tone of concern. “Did Blake Summers prevail, or is humanity now without their Scion?”

  “He’s bullet-proof, for Christ-sake,” Marcus shook his head. Bobby shushed the pilot.

  Thirteen thousand.

  The screech of metal on metal echoed off the walls as a door was forced open, and they heard footsteps steadily grow louder. Finally, Blake Summers stepped into view.

  Are you going for the whole blood soaked barbarian chic, or are you just too lazy to clean yourself up?

  While the kid’s face was wiped clean, his hair was burned in clumps, and his armor was layered with dried blood and ash. He held his now trademark spear in his hand, while a bow was looped around his shoulder.

  Twenty thousand.

  “Everyone, I give you Blake Summers, in his first appearance since he returned from parts unknown!”

  She panned the video away, so Blake filled her live stream’s view.

  Blake frowned in confusion for a moment before he suddenly rolled his eyes and sighed as he repositioned his spear. The metal tip began to faintly glow for just a moment before he struck the latch mechanism. It easily pierced through the lock. He placed one hand on the bars of the door and ripped it from its hinges.

  Wow. The comments really liked that.

  “Thank you, for the rescue, Blake,” she said as she exited the cell. “Did the police outside give you any trouble?”

  “No,” he replied, annoyed.

  Come on! Give me more than that!

  She leaned forward and poked a singed opening in the front of his leather armor. “Are you sure? This hole looks fresh.”

  The teenager glanced down and then shrugged. “It’s fine. The armor will repair itself in a day or so.”

  “What about the police?” she asked and leaned in. “Were you forced to kill them to defend yourself?”

  Eighty thousand.

  Blake shook his head and turned to walk away. In a gruff voice, with his back turned, he said, “They’re alive, you can see for yourself.”

  You really need to work on your rizz.

  Regardless, Jennifer, Bobby, and Marcus followed behind their rescuer as he exited the holding cells. When they stepped through the mangled metal door and entered the main lobby, they saw six deputies along with the sheriff. They sat on the floor in a line, with their backs to the wall. Their hands were hidden behind them, but Jennifer imagined they were handcuffed.

  Jennifer approached the overweight, older man that was detained. “Sheriff Slater, would you like to make a statement to the public? Tell your side of what happened here?”

  She heard Blake snort behind her. He mumbled, “This’ll be good.”

  “You bet your ass I do, young lady!” the elected official growled. He nodded toward Blake and practically shouted. “That punk kid is a murderer, who deserves justice for what he did to my men. He’s also an enemy of the state, who planned and implemented an insurrection. When the military gets here, they’ll put him down,” the older man stated confidently.

  Not likely. Not if they couldn’t do it before.

  Jennifer turned to Blake. “Would you like to respond to those accusations?”

  The teenager took a deep breath and said, “I could have easily killed every cop here, but I didn’t. Even after they opened fire on me. If you notice, they’re perfectly fine. I’ll throw them the keys to the cuffs when we leave, and it’ll be like I was never here.”

  “You broke my hand, you asshole,” a deputy disagreed with his assessment.

  “Good,” Blake replied with a degree of satisfaction. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before you open fire.”

  Jennifer leaned in. “Aren’t you worried if you free them, they’ll attack you again?”

  Blake smirked. “Oh no, I’m confiscating their guns. Honestly, it’s for their own good. In a couple of days, when the monsters show up, they’re just going to be held back by them anyway.”

  “How are we gonna kill monsters without guns!” the Sheriff protested.

  “Use your batons,” Blake said dismissively. “They’ll just be level zero, hardly a threat if you’re ready for them.”

  “What about the Sheriff’s accusation?” she interrupted. “Do you plan to overthrow the government?”

  He turned and shot her a look of disbelief. “I don’t give a crap about the government. Without electricity, they’re basically surviving on fumes. What I care about is the future of humanity. I want to save as many people as I can.”

  He must not know about Warner’s statements.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Are you aware that President Warner declared martial law, and urged governors, mayors, and others in local governments to form their own factions?”

  Jennifer watched with satisfaction as Blake seemed stunned by the statement. She watched as multiple expressions crossed his face. First, surprise, then anger, and finally resigned acceptance.

  “No, I wasn’t aware, but that’s actually a good idea. The more factions, the better. I don’t actually hate the government,” Blake promised as he shrugged.

  Could have fooled me.

  “I was just defending myself from their aggression. Remember, I just wanted to warn people about what’s coming and be left alone. Warner’s the one that decided I need to die, even at the cost of his own men.”

  “Would you be willing to say that to the President yourself, in an interview moderated by myself?” Jennifer crossed her fingers.

  Blake shrugged. “If he’s willing to talk, sure.”

  She swiveled the virtual camera so she filled the screen. “You heard it here first, President Warner, Blake has accepted an interview. Will you be brave enough to join us?”

  She then refocused on Blake. “What about the Architect? I see you have a new title?”

  Blake growled.

  One hundred and fifty thousand and growing!

  Suddenly, the door to the police station opened, and Blake’s brother stepped through the door with a huge grin. “Hey Jennifer! I told you I’d bring him here.”

  “I thought you were going to stay in the truck,” Blake said with a scowl.

  “I could see from Jennifer’s stream that it was perfectly safe,” he defended himself. He then held up a small vial. “Besides, I brought a present for the cop with the broken hand.”

  Blake’s upper lip curled. “Are you sure you want to waste that on him?”

  “It’s not a waste, it’s an advertisement,” Oliver disagreed. He turned to Jennifer and held up the vial. “I’m an alchemist for the Terran Alliance faction, and I made this healing potion. It’s strong enough to heal most wounds in just minutes. If you don’t believe me, I’ll prove it.”

  Finally, someone who understands how to market.

  Sheriff Slater snorted and shook his head.

  Oliver turned to his brother. “Can you get him out of those cuffs so we can see his broken hand?”

  Blake stared at his older brother for a moment before he mumbled, “Fine,” and leaned down in front of the injured law enforcement officer. He lifted the man to his feet with one hand, turned him around, and then snapped the cuffs like they were cheap plastic.

  Wow.

  Jennifer quickly checked her interface and saw that she jumped to over two hundred thousand viewers.

  Yes, this is perfect!

  The moment the man’s hands were uncuffed, he tried to struggle free. However, Blake easily confined him. He lifted the injured hand up by the deputy’s wrist and displayed it for Jennifer.

  “Let me go,” the deputy ordered through gritted teeth.

  Jennifer leaned forward and inspected the injury for her audience. “I can’t tell if it’s broken, but it is definitely heavily bruised. If the alchemist’s claims are true, we should see a major change happen before our very eyes.”

  “I’m right,” Oliver said confidently as he visibly puffed his chest out and winked at Jennifer. He then reached forward and tried to pour the solution into the deputy’s mouth. “Open up. Don’t you want to get healed?”

  “I ain’t drinking that poison,” the man said through gritted teeth.”

  Oliver glanced at his brother. “A little help here, Blake?”

  “Fine,” Blake sighed and forced the officer’s jaw open. Oliver quickly poured the potion into the man’s open mouth, and then Blake quickly closed it. “Swallow,” he ordered quietly.

  “Don’t do it,” Sheriff Slater ordered.

  The deputy continued to struggle until finally, defiance left his eyes. After the man swallowed, Blake released his hold. The uniformed young man coughed and grimaced at the taste before he turned to Oliver. “You better not have poisoned me.”

  Blake’s brother smirked, “In about five minutes, you’re going to be thanking me.”

  “We’ll see,” the deputy mumbled as he gently rubbed his swollen hand.

  “Blake, while we wait, do you have any advice for those now watching? Over two hundred thousand people want to know what you have to say.”

  Oliver’s brows shot up, and he mouthed, ‘Two hundred thousand’.

  That’s right, I know how to bring in the viewers.

  Blake cleared his throat as the deputy began to look intensely at his hand. Jennifer stepped back to ensure both were in the view.

  “I actually agree with President Warner. People need to band together and form factions as soon as possible. Until you’re protected within a faction town’s walls, you need to sleep in groups. Have someone hold watch so you’re not killed in your sleep. Monsters can portal in anywhere,” Blake reminded them. “A closet or bunker won’t protect you.”

  “What about that strange portal that appeared during your speech yesterday? Why did it appear and where did you go?”

  “The Architect was listening to my speech. When I told everyone I come from the future and listed off what was going to happen, it took an interest. It questioned me and then let me go.”

  There has to be more to it than that.

  “What does the Architect look like?” she asked. “Did it say why it attacked us? And you never told us about your new title.”

  Bobby highlighted a comment in her view.

  He’s learning fast.

  Blake shrugged. “I don’t know what it actually looks like, but it appeared as a British guy drinking tea. It seems to be really big into manipulation, so I don’t really trust anything it said. As far as why it attacked, it claimed we made an AI that was already going to destroy us. Now it wants to use us to fight some other alien threat from outside our galaxy. Who knows if any of that’s true or just some bullshit it spewed.”

  You spent an entire day talking to the Architect and that’s all you want to share? Seriously?

  “President Warner, my viewers would love to know if there is truth to the Architect's claim of an artificial intelligence hellbent on our destruction.” She then turned to Blake. “There must be more to the story,” she pressed. “According to your brother, you were gone for a full day.”

  Blake gave his brother an annoyed look before he turned back and replied to Jennifer’s question. “Time must flow differently in the void, because I actually only talked for about half an hour.”

  “It must have been some conversation,” Jennifer replied. “Otherwise, it wouldn’t have made you its ambassador? What does that position entail? Are you going to advocate for it?”

  Blake’s face turned red, and he showed visible anger. “No!” he barked. “I hate the Architect and what it’s doing to us. I never had a choice in the matter, it forced the title on me.”

  That hit a nerve. There has to be a story there.

  Jennifer was about to ask a followup question when the deputy exclaimed, “I think the potion actually worked!”

  Jennifer leaned forward to inspect the injured hand.

  Wow, the bruising’s almost gone.

  “Of course it did,” Oliver grinned. “My shit’s the best.” He then turned toward Jennifer. “And, if anyone listening needs healing, you know where to find me, the OG Alchemist. Just head to The Dome in Pinetop, Arizona.”

  “Okay, we’ve been here long enough,” Blake said as he forced the astounded deputy back against the wall. “Time to leave.”

  Jennifer wanted to ask him more questions about his conversation with the Architect, but the kid seemed to be done with the interview. “Blake Summers, you said you want to save people. Is your faction recruiting new members?”

  “Of course,” he replied.

  “Would my family and I be able to join?”

  “As long as you pull your weight and contribute, sure. The Terran Alliance will welcome anyone who works towards humanity’s survival.”

  ***

  Captain Jeremy Jackson rubbed his sore shoulder. He had tripped over a root in the scenario he and his team completed earlier in the day. Because of the injury, he felt it was necessary to cancel the second excursion, despite his desire to quickly grow stronger.

  In the two weeks since Scott Peters placed him in charge, he and his team had completed at least two scenarios per day. Since they began, almost a month before, they had gained over sixty million nano a piece, and had spent it all on their Physical Power.

  With their superhuman strength, they finally felt confident enough to tackle a level one scenario again. To Jeremy’s relief, they were successful, and no one died, but it was a close thing.

  Suddenly, he received a holo-chat request from Scott Peters, his CIA boss.

  Finally! What took him so long?

  He accepted the call, and Mister Peters appeared before him. His boss reclined on a fine couch with a wine glass in hand. The wall behind him was rich mahogany and was decorated by a painted portrait of Abraham Lincoln.

  Where the hell are you?

  “Captain Jackson, good to see you again,” Scott greeted him. “How is everyone holding up in Arizona?”

  “We’re fine here, sir. No casualties since you left. We continue to push ourselves hard, and…”

  Mister Peters waved his wine glass filled hand through the air and interrupted him. “That’s great, but I have new orders for you. I had an in depth conversation with the President. A lot was discussed, and he was adamant that we know what Blake Summers is up to. We need someone on the inside, feet on the ground, someone who can feed us intelligence. That person is you.”

  What the hell?! I’m not a spy, I’m a soldier!

  Rather than blurt out his thoughts, Jeremy tried to be more circumspect. “Sir, I don’t believe I would be the best fit for that position. If you recall, we had an altercation already. He will undoubtedly recognize me.”

  “Nonsense,” Scott Peters disagreed. “You had a helmet on, and no offense, but soldiers in uniform all look the same anyway.”

  Asshole.

  “I admit, having Esteves go with you would be a bit much, but you and Lee should be fine to infiltrate their faction.”

  Jeremy tightened his fist and took a breath to calm himself. “Sir, I don’t think…”

  Finally, Mister Peters lost his amiable facade. He leaned forward and scolded Jeremy. “No, that’s right. You're not thinking. Blake Summers is the single most powerful person in the world right now, and we don’t know anything about him. He has a new title, ‘Ambassador to the Architect’, that proves he’s a traitor. I don’t care what he says, there’s no way he could’ve known what was going to happen yesterday, unless he was in on it. Now, are you going to do your job and protect this country, or not?”

  Damnit! Why does the asshole have to make a good point? There’s no way the kid’s innocent.

  Jeremy took a deep breath and replied through gritted teeth, “Yes sir.”

  Scott Peters leaned back into the couch and took a sip from his glass. “Excellent. Let Sergeant Jacobs know he’s in charge while you’re gone. I know you will find a way into the Dome without raising suspicion. It’s best if you and Lee hide within a large group to allay suspicion. I’ve heard there’s one headed towards The Dome from Whiteriver. Join them in your civvies, and no one will be the wiser.”

  How the hell do you know that?

  “And Jeremy, the President and I are counting on you.”