“Just like I said before,” he started as the timer ticked under three minutes, “we don't know if the insides of buildings will be safe when… whatever it is that's going to happen happens. We don't want to be trapped inside if that's the case. Athios is on the roof so she'll have a better idea of what we're dealing with and let us know. If it is safe in buildings we'll get the kids inside immediately and post up to defend the door. If the buildings are not safe, have your kids stay against the walls and we'll hold them off from here.”
He took a few steps back and looked at their formation. Parents in front of their children, himself and the others ready to fight in front of them. He looked at the eleven children and eight adults that claimed unwilling or unable to fight - and had a thought.
“By a show of hands, who hasn't chosen a Class?” he asked.
Nine of the children and six of the non-fighters raised their hands, Sarah among them. Garath nodded gravely, hating himself just a little bit for what he was about to do.
“What I'm about to say is for those of you that told me you weren't willing or able to fight,” he said, flipping Mark a very Spock-like raised eyebrow. “Keeping your hands clean AND staying alive may not be an option. Turn around and look at these children,” he said, pausing to allow a moment for everyone to take a good look at the frightened group of children with their backs against the wall. “If those of us that are fighting for your lives go down, those children standing behind you right now will only have you between them and death,” he said coldly. His statement was specifically meant for the adults that weren't willing to fight to save their own lives, excluding one very pregnant hispanic woman - fighting in her condition would probably be humorous to watch, but it couldn't be good for the baby. “With that in mind, unless there is a damn good reason for you not to fight,” Garath nodded meaningfully toward the hispanic woman, “then you need to contribute. If you don't want to fight, that's fine. You're going to be healers.”
He did it. Garath was now responsible for one of the worst atrocities in the gaming world, he pushed unwilling participants into being healers - perpetuating the cycle that had led to so many sub-par healers (and unhappy gamers) in countless games. This wasn't a game though, and he knew he’d have to take every advantage available to increase everyone’s chance of survival and, willing or not, God damned children or not, an additional fifteen healers in the group would definitely improve the odds.
“The Classes Preacher, Naturist, and Hallowed Knight all had some mention of healing abilities in their Class description so pick one of those. Do this right now,” said Garath. “I feel like there were two or three more but I can't remember. Anyone already have a healing Skill that isn't one of those three?”
An asian man of middle-age wearing glasses piped up. “Well, it's more of a skill than a Skill - but I'm a doctor. If anyone gets seriously injured, find me and I'll do whatever I can,” he said, his voice soft - almost as though he were embarrassed about being a doctor at a time like this.
Garath could see from his nameplate that his name was TodoroKen. Because of the way TodoroKen differentiated skill from Skill, Garath wondered if the good doctor was also a closet gamer - when Garath had asked his family if any of them had experience gaming he quickly shook his head no and glanced nervously at his wife. The Necrologist made a mental note of that growing suspicion and continued.
“For anyone that didn't hear that,” Garath projected, pointing at the doctor, “this is TodoroKen, he's a doctor. Bring any serious injuries to him. Any questions?”
None came.
As the countdown to The Culling ticked ever closer to zero the group gained nine child healers between the ages of six and thirteen. Four of the adults that didn't want to fight also chose a healing Class. Garath took a second to explain what he had learned about spell casting and gave them instructions to watch the Health bars of the people fighting in front of them and cast healing spells whenever somebody took damage.
With thirty seconds left on the countdown and everyone in their respective positions, Garath's breathing was shallow, his heart beating in his chest like it was trying to break its way out. He worried that their simple formation wouldn't be enough to keep everyone safe. He took a deep breath, trying to force the butterflies from his stomach. And then it began...
Chapter 7
The Culling
The countdown to The Culling finally ticked down to 00:00. When it did, the entirety of the beautiful blue planet was blanketed in a pitch darkness. Every form of illumination was extinguished as though some divine being had simply flipped the breaker on the power to the universe. The silence was heavy and loomed oppressive as every creature on the planet held its breath.
A message appeared to every person single human being on Earth in an ornate and elaborate font - legible even in the complete darkness.
Fight
