Aurora's gaze hardened. The momentary vulnerability gave way to something steelier, and the metallic glint returned to her eyes like the first stars appearing at dusk. She nodded once, a sharp and decisive movement.
"You are right. Standing here panicking won't help them."
"We need a plan," I said. I closed the red emergency alert and focused on my stat page. The blue glow cast a cooler, more clinical light across my features. "First, we allocate our points. Then we need supplies. Water, food, anything we can carry."
"Weapons," Aurora added. Her fingers flexed as if she could already feel the weight of her next battle. "For me, at least. I need something physical in case my powers fail."
I nodded, understanding the wisdom in redundancy. In a world where the laws of physics could be rewritten without warning, backups meant survival.
The emergency alert on our phones pulsed again. A second notification appeared beneath the first, the screen throbbing with an urgent red light that looked like an open wound in the dim basement.
ATTENTION: AVOID ALL MAJOR POPULATION CENTERS. MARTIAL LAW ENACTED IN THE FOLLOWING AREAS: NEW YORK CITY, BOSTON, WASHINGTON D.C., LOS ANGELES, CHICAGO...
The list continued, a digital roll call of the largest cities in the country.
"We are in the center of the target," Aurora pointed out. Her jaw was tight. "We need to get out of the city."
"But not before we find our families," I countered. My mind was already racing through the variables. Queens was a start, but the logistics of moving through a city in the middle of a systemic collapse were staggering.
She leaned closer to look at my stat screen. The blue glow illuminated her face, casting sharp shadows that highlighted her determination. "How are you going to distribute those points? We need to be smart about this."
The practical question anchored us both. I studied the numbers, trying to apply the same logic I used for complex orbital mechanics.
Nathaniel Moretti
Level: 2
Main Class: Astral Equationist (★★★★★)
Stats: CI: 20, CON: 11, INT: 15, STR: 12, AGI: 11
Available Points: 5
"I need to understand these stats better," I said, thinking aloud. "Intelligence is processing power. It's my ability to calculate, to visualize the equations, and to hold the mental framework of a rewrite. That is definitely the core of my class."
I paused, remembering how the quill had felt in my hand. It had been like trying to hold a live wire while reciting the laws of thermodynamics.
"But Cosmic Insight... it's different. It is not just about being smart."
"It is your bandwidth," Aurora suggested. "The higher your CI, the more you can see the code and the less it resists you when you try to change it."
"Exactly. When I was rewriting the gravity constant outside the door, the system fought back. It felt like trying to write on water while the current tried to wash my ink away. If my CI is higher, the current should be weaker. I will have more authority over the reality I am editing."
"But you also need to survive long enough to use those abilities," Aurora reminded me. She glanced at the warped door. "We are going to be doing a lot of running, Nate. You can't edit reality if you are out of breath or dead."
I stared at the distribution screen. In a video game, this would have been a trivial choice. Here, each point felt monumental. I thought about the near-failure with the gravity anomaly and the white-hot pain that had nearly blinded me. I needed more mental capacity, more authority over the code, and just enough physical resilience to not collapse.
I exhaled slowly and began to allocate the points.
"Two points to Intelligence," I said. The number shifted from 15 to 17. "I need to process the equations faster than the system can correct them."
"Two points to Cosmic Insight," I continued. The number rose to 22. "I need the system to stop fighting me every time I pick up the quill."
"And the last one?" Aurora asked.
I hesitated between Agility and Constitution. Speed was good, but raw endurance was better for a long trek through the city. "Constitution. I need to stay on my feet."
The stat rose to 12. As I confirmed the allocation, a subtle warmth flowed through me. It was not a dramatic surge of power, but rather a quiet sense of clarity. The faint outlines of the lunar code that had started to fade back into the walls became distinct again. My perception had expanded.
"We move soon," I said, pushing myself up. The fatigue had dulled from a sharp ache to a manageable heaviness. "We scavenge what we can here and head for the surface."
We emptied our backpacks onto the floor. It was a pathetic sight. Textbooks on astrophysics, notebooks filled with useless lectures, a half-eaten protein bar, and Aurora's kendo gear. It was the inventory of two students who had expected a normal Tuesday.
"Not exactly a survival kit," I muttered.
Aurora managed a tight smile. "We will make it work."
She moved to the tool pegboard and grabbed a hammer and a heavy screwdriver. I found a heavy-duty flashlight on the workbench and tested its weight. It was made of solid aluminum and could serve as a club if things got desperate.
"How does your sword work?" I asked, watching her. "The summoning and dismissing?"
"It's part of the Lunar Blade skill," she explained. "The sword exists in a sort of sub-space, I think. When I need it, I just reach for that connection and the system manifests it. It has no weight when it is not in my hand, and I can't lose it."
"Like my quill," I realized. "It is a summoned interface for our classes."
"Exactly. Though mine is for killing, and yours is for... whatever it is you do with the laws of nature."
We gathered the few useful items from the room, including a roll of duct tape and a small toolkit. Then, Aurora turned to me with a serious expression.
"If we are going to do this, we should coordinate. This system works like a game, which means there are likely party mechanics. We are stronger if the system recognizes us as a unit."
I closed my eyes, focusing on the interface. I tried to visualize a connection between us. 'System. Party formation. Group.'
A translucent blue notification materialized between us.
[Party Formation Request: Aurora Reyes (Lunar Knight ★★★★) wishes to form a party with you. Accept? Yes / No]
I focused on [Yes].
Immediately, new information appeared in the corner of my vision. A small status bar showed Aurora's name, her health, and her mana levels. It even gave me a faint directional indicator of where she was relative to me.
[Party "Moonfall Survivors" formed.]
[Members: 2/8]
[Party Effect: Shared Experience (80%)]
"Shared experience," I read aloud. "So we both grow stronger regardless of who lands the final blow."
"Efficient," Aurora nodded. She looked at the status bar in her own vision, her face relaxing slightly. "It's a tether. At least now I know exactly how much mana you have left before you pass out on me."
"And I know when you are getting tired," I added.
The party interface created a tangible connection between us, a digital bond that mirrored our mutual decision to survive. It was a small comfort, but in a world that had just been deleted, it was everything.
"Okay, Moonfall Survivors," Aurora said, her voice reclaiming its usual authority. "Let's go find my family."