System notification after System notification bombard my vision consecutively until I finally use what little willpower I have left to force the damn thing to give me an abridged summary.

[Your party has slain 37,426 Great Plains Harpies (Levels ranging from 22 to 28). Calculating… You have gained a boosted 137,535 Experience.]

The following notification makes me seethe with anger.

[Your party has slain 8 Humans (Levels ranging from 6 to 14). No Experience Awarded.]

Really, System? Just have to rub my failure in my face, don’t you? Have to show me exactly what my weakness has caused, because I couldn’t fight close to forty thousand harpies in sequential single combat without the city suffering orders of magnitude more deaths in the process? I give the System the mental equivalent of the single-finger salute, although I know my indignation is probably just an added bonus for my sworn enemy.

For now, however, there are levels to be gained, stat points to be allocated, Skill Ranks to process, and a city to be rebuilt. After that, there’ll be a discussion with Nicholas— one I’m not looking forward to— and then it’ll be time to finally deal with this Tower Gauntlet. Today’s task has shown once again my weakness and my inability to protect these people. I hate it like I hate few other things. And I will correct this weakness.

[You have gained enough Experience to reach Level 38 (From 36). [Strength] +2, [Speed] +2, [Vitality] +2, [Mind] +2. Please assign free stat points (Remaining: 8).]

Every one of these stats was lacking. Had I more [Strength], I could have beaten the harpies with my fists or done more damage with each [Ether Bullet], preventing the need to gravity bomb the sky and lead eight innocent people to their deaths. Had I had more [Speed], perhaps I could have– No, there’s no sense in dwelling on it or continuing to tear myself apart over it. I did save lives. In the future, I will be able to do so more effectively and efficiently.

I assign two points each to [Vitality] and [Mind] with the first level, then two each to [Strength] and [Speed] with the second. I need more of everything. Even this isn’t enough, but it’s a small start.

[Maximum Health increases by [Vitality] x 2 + Current Level + Rand[1,3] = (200, 201)]

[Maximum Ether increases by [Mind] + Current Level + Rand[0,2] = (158, 159)]

[Level: 38; Experience: 697,780; To Next: 31,545]

[Current Stats: [Health]: 4,675 / 4,675; [Ether]: 349 / 3,328]

[Current Stats: [Strength]: 70 (Base: 42); [Speed]: 70 (Base: 42); [Vitality]: 134 (Base: 81); [Mind]: 201 (Base: 121)]

[Your [Angel’s Grace (Rank II)] has upgraded to [Angel’s Grace (Rank III)].]

[Your [Basic Glyph Manifestation (Rank XI)] has upgraded to [Basic Glyph Manifestation (Rank XIII)].]

[Your [Intermediate Ether Manipulation (Rank XIII)] has upgraded to [Intermediate Ether Manipulation (Rank XIV)].]

[Your [Glyphcasting (Rank XVI)] has upgraded to [Glyphcasting (Rank XVII)].]

[Your [Archangel’s Gaze (Rank IV)] has upgraded to [Archangel’s Gaze (Rank VI)].]

[Your [Ether Bullet Barrage (Rank VI) has upgraded to [Ether Bullet Barrage (Rank VIII)].]

Well, that was a metric ton of Experience and Skill Ranks. But I can’t help but bemoan the unfairness of it all. Eight people lost their lives to my spell. An unknown number more died to these harpies. Families forever will have to grieve loved ones, pets, and so many, many lives torn apart by these damned monsters. And for it all, I get more power while they get jack shit.

The System may be nigh omnipotent, but it is certainly not the omnibenevolent deity proposed by the major religions of Earth over the millennia. My resolve to wrest humanity free from the yoke of the System’s malevolent embrace is only emboldened by the cruel reality laid bare for all to witness.

----------------------------------------

One week has passed since the harpies invaded. I remain a bit remiss that my plans for delving into the Tower Gauntlet have been postponed for so long. Indeed, every day without the power contained therein is a day I feel ill at ease. Only the System knows when the next calamity will come to wipe us all out. One which, if I were stronger, better equipped, and more experienced (and Experienced), I might be able to better withstand, and with less collateral damage.

But right now, the people need our help to rebuild. And Chloe needs to be there, offering what healing she can to the wounded. Healing of body and mind alike, given her spells also imbue their target with a gentle sense of warmth and comfort not unlike being wrapped up in the embrace of a loved one.

I am woefully inadequate for that particular task. I lack Chloe’s emotional intelligence, and have never considered myself particularly adept at providing comfort to those in mourning. But I can at least provide some material assistance in helping to handle the physical fallout. So many broken trees and pieces of homes and cars strewn about. A lot of it was caused either by the harpies, or those who tried with various degrees of success to fight them off. But just as much, and even more near the hypocenter, was damage that I myself caused with [Black Hole].

Helping the people of my hometown to rebuild after the cruel devastation the harpies caused is… a form of penance, I suppose. It won’t bring back the lives of the fifty-seven people killed in their attack, including the eight that the System attributed to my final attack. It won’t make up for or replace the estimated $400 million in property damage, of which some fraction is my own doing. It won’t undo the profound unfairness that, once again, the Jacobs residence emerged with but a few dented shingles, giving Chloe and me a warm place to sleep each night. But it will at least provide some comfort in everyone’s hour of need.

“How are you holding up, Chloe?” I ask, late in the afternoon on the sixth full day since the attack. She’s a few blocks away at one of the three local hospitals, working with the medical staff— not all of whom have healing-related classes— to tend to the hundreds of still-injured patients. Meanwhile, I’ve been helping with logistical work, hauling building materials around the city and occasionally rushing critically injured rescuees to the ER as I am right now.

“Tired. So many, many people to tend to. But also extremely fulfilled.” I sense the same from her.

“Are you about ready to head out for the day?” I’m starting to get tired and hungry myself after so many long days of flying around, something I can’t hide from Chloe even if I wanted.

She sighs through our telepathy. “I… I don’t feel I should.”

I step onto the helipad on the hospital rooftop, setting the injured elderly gentleman down on a stretcher and waiting for a couple of minutes as the paramedics take his vitals and process his initial intake. Credit to them and their System-augmented stats, within the span of a hundred seconds, they’ve already got him in an IV-drip and are carting him down for emergency treatment and stabilization.

It helps, knowing that I truly can use my power to protect, in ways that aren’t purely accomplished by killing. It’s… helping me center myself after tapping into the penumbra of madness last week. The work is long, hard, and sometimes painful to witness. But it’s good for my soul, in ways I might not be able to fully express in words.

“I’m here on the rooftop when you’re ready.” I pause for a brief moment, mostly for emphasis, as telepathy doesn’t need to rely on things as trivial as the need to breathe. It also works while fully submerged as well, as Chloe demonstrated while bathing last night. “Let’s not have Dr. Wilmot order you out of the ward again tonight, okay?”

Chloe’s bond relays a sense of general embarrassment. “Alright. Five minutes; let me treat this one last patient before we depart.”

Sure enough, Chloe emerges onto the rooftop after seven minutes. She likely stopped to do a few more minor treatments— there is a very faint hint of guilt in her mood, though that might just be because she’s a couple minutes later. However, even I need no [Angelic Bond] to see just how happy and fulfilled Chloe is as she steps into my embrace, where the two of us share a long hug and a pair of all-too-brief kisses.

“Missed you, love,” Chloe says.

“Me too. Do you need me to carry you, or are you good to fly on your own?”

Chloe smiles softly, sprouting her wings. “I’m good.”

“I figured you’d relish any chance to be in my arms.”

“Oh.” Chloe pouts, then giggles. “I guess I’m even more tired than I thought if I turned down that opportunity without proper consideration.”

Her wings fade as she jumps into my outstretched arms, and the two of us depart back to the Jacobs residence for dinner and a long sleep. Once we’re airborne, Chloe nuzzles into my armored chest with the most contented smile on her face.

“I’m a little surprised you still haven’t seen Nicholas and given him a piece of your mind about his little cannon?”

“I wanted to, but honestly, it won’t do either of us any good. And I’m pretty sure I know exactly how the conversation will play out already.”

“Oh?”

“I’ll come in, indignant about how such weapons are too dangerous to be in the hands of the military, and about the damage that they could cause if used irresponsibly. He’ll point out that such weapons are necessary to combat the threats the System has and will continue to throw at us, citing last week as a prime example. I’ll mention the horrors of having those weapons handed out to the militaries of the world, and he’ll point out that that cat’s long out of the bag. Probably a reference to the doctrine of mutually-assured destruction will follow. Then I’ll mention the dangers of such weapons being turned on civilians, and he’ll tell me that the two of us are basically a walking nuke, and that the government has a responsibility to protect people from all threats, even if those threats are a couple of eighteen year-old girls who don’t look like they could together level a small city.”

“You’ve really thought that all through?”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about things this past week. The truth is, I don’t like it. I really, really don’t like it, not one bit. But I’m not going to convince Nicholas, and trying is probably not going to do anything but piss me off. Might as well save us both the trouble and just… not have that conversation.”

Chloe wraps her arms a little more snugly around my waist. “This has all… matured you a little, hasn’t it, Sera?”

I stare incredulously for a moment. “Are you one to speak of my maturity?” I ask out loud. “You’re barely a month older than I am.”

Chloe giggles. “Maybe I’m not. But still, Sera, these experiences have changed you. I think this past week especially has changed you a lot. You’re not just barging in and trying to make demands, nor are you assuming that everyone who is associated with the government is pure evil.”

“I guess. I still don’t like the idea of that cannon. It’s just too easily turned on people, or used as a weapon for terror. But…”

“I know.”

And I know that she knows, even without us saying or thinking a word to each other. There’s no judgement in her mood, just love and caring and acceptance. Of me, of what I’ve done, of who and what I am, down to the very core of my being. And like I always seem to do in her presence these days, I melt.

“Can we go into the Tower tomorrow? I–”

“Yeah,” Chloe replies before I can finish the rest of the thought. Then her smile turns mischievous. “In exchange, can we have some fun tonight? I’m feeling extremely pent up after this week.”

I grin. “Yes. Yes we absolutely can.”