CWD: GA ~ One

“Crave!” Nacho snarled as he yanked himself away from the table, staggered into his bedroom, stumbled across the dirty clothes littering the floor, and crashed into his closet door. He was back in his apartment? Impossible! He would’ve thought it was a hallucination, or some kind of simulation, but no, he could smell his roommate’s dirty socks. This… this was real? He was back in the apartment that he shared with Reuben, within walking distance of the University of Missouri-Kansas City, Volker campus.

He blinked as one particular detail resonated down to his soul. “Reuben!”

“What?” Getting an answer brought on another bout of blinking from Nacho.

That voice, somewhat annoyed, drew a smile on his face that a knife to the heart could never erase. He threw open his door, screaming, “Reuben!”

The concerned response echoed in the small space they shared. “What? Come on, Nach-man, are you okay? What happened?”

Nacho stumbled through their apartment, his eyes roving over the strangest things. There was the couch they had held a party for after they’d pulled it off the street and finally had something to put in the living room. Its cushions were sunken from years of too much use, and it still faced the oversized TV and the PlayStation of questionable ownership.

His muscles seemed to be fighting him, as though he were wading through deep water. He was painfully weak and completely out of shape. Not only that, but all of the assassin skills he had spent hundreds of other people’s lives to acquire were just… gone. Before the Juxtaposition, he had just been a twenty-two-year-old college student heavily into gaming. At the same time, just a few minutes ago, he had been lethal. Fast, strong, invincible to people at his own Tier. Hadn’t he been able to toy with the second-best assassin in the world? Yes. Yes, he had.

“You’re alive!” Nacho yanked open the door to Reuben’s room. “What day is it?”

“It’s May eleventh?” Still in bed, Reuben threw an arm over his eyes. “I see we’re no longer knocking? You play a dangerous game, sir. I happen to have a fresh pair of socks and an untapped bottle of lotion right here.”

“Excuse you.” Brie, Reuben’s fiancée and Nacho’s second-best friend in the universe lifted her head from her pillow, smacking at the man she was lying next to as he chuckled. Her eyes flicked to Nacho, and she whipped her pillow at him. “No. This is not happening. There should be far less yelling and far more knocking. What’s going on, Eli?”

“Probability Vision.” Nacho laughed like a crazy man as he dodged the pillow with ease. “It was only a prophecy! I never had to eat people to survive! Guys. Guys. I was shown the next three years… ah, three years and six months. I know what’s going to happen! We need to get ready!”

“He’s lost it.” Brie pulled the blanket up and covered her head.

“I'll help him find it again.” Reuben heaved himself to his feet. His Sonic the Bedhog t-shirt barely covered his gut, and even then only when he actively pulled it down. “Nacho, if you need help regaining your sanity, I’m your guy. But first, you saw the future? Prove it. What grade do I get in my econ class?”

“A solid C,” Nacho replied instantly, his eyes zeroing in on Reuben’s with an intensity that made his friend flinch. “Your paper is good. Your final isn’t. Also, November eleventh is the worst possible day for your wedding. Believe me. You’ll want to change that date.”

That got Brie motivated and moving. She squirmed upright, keeping the blankets pulled up to her chin. Her blue eyes blazed with fire. “We are not moving that date. Do you realize the raw planning it took to get on everyone’s calendar? No. You don’t. Don’t mess with this, Nacho. Don’t joke about my wedding.”

Both of his best friends in the world were eyeing him with concern on their faces. Right then, Nacho realized that he’d been given a gift, the ultimate gift, but he had to be smart about how he handled things—not only for himself, but for his friends. Best friends.

People that were dead until just now.

He would make sure that never happened again, but he was starting to realize how insane he was sounding. Nacho threw up his hands with a groan. “You’re right. November eleventh is fine. It’s not like the world is going to end exactly at noon Central Standard Time. It’s not like, for example, we’re all going to be finding ourselves in a video game world, with strict rules about food and water, run by psychotic gods. Yeah. Ha. Like that’s gonna happen.”

“You need to stop playing games until five in the morning.” Brie shoved Reuben out of the bed with her foot. “Go deal with him. If you made me coffee at the same time, I’d love you forever.”

Reuben kissed her head. “You’re gonna love me forever anyway, sugar.”

“Don’t press your luck.” There was a long pause, and she eventually waved dramatically at her blanket to indicate her state of undress. “Get out!”

Nacho wanted to give them the chance at eternal love. Yet, the reality was, if they all didn’t get their act together… ‘forever’ meant only another six months. He turned and ran from the room, grabbed his laptop, and migrated to the table. In the kitchen, Reuben started brewing the best, most college-affordable coffee they had.

By the time the pot was a quarter full, Nacho was already making notes on everything he could remember. He had to make two to-do lists: one for things he had to do before the Juxtaposition, and one for things to accomplish after they transitioned into the Starter World. The afterward list was critical. Nacho scrambled to catalog the brief history of the Starter World. The post-Evaluation chaos. The rise of the Cataclysm-ranked monster, the overwhelming might of the guilds led by Kala and Crave, and yes, Myron finding the MurderSong Blades.

He typed furiously and ceaselessly.

Reuben ambled over as the coffee pot finished percolating, concern writ large after noticing his friend working so intently. “Are you finally starting on the paper for your marketing class? What was your topic? The social impact of the Twitter sale or something equally ‘earth-shattering’?”

Nacho stopped typing and considered his best friend in the world; his alive best friend. He knew that he wasn’t going to bother pursuing his degree; it truly meant nothing to him anymore. But how could he tell Reuben that? How could he convince his friends that most of the people on Earth would be dead in six months?

No one died right away, though that would’ve been a kindness. Not until after the Evaluation… that was the problem, but Nacho had a solution. However, he had to be careful, or his plan would come unraveled. The foundation of his plan, his entire life, relied on the survival of his two best friends. Without them, he had no plan. He had seen where that kind of life took him.

In some ways, the trio of Nacho, Reuben Colby, and Brie McCurdy had been completely random. They’d all come from rough beginnings; some rougher than others. Reuben had lost his parents early, and then his grandparents in his teens. For Nacho, who hadn’t had actual parents for as far back as he could remember, Reuben’s Nana and Papa had been like his parents as well. Then there was Brie, who had her own tragic backstory of a controlling family with an incredible pedigree.

Bottom line, the three were tight; as close-knit as any biological family. Losing the other two had broken Nacho, and subsequently losing himself in the skills of an assassin had been easy. Killing had become effortless.
Reuben took the pot and poured three cups of coffee, adding mocha creamer into his cup as he waited for an answer. “You’re not saying anything, Nacho. Still wondering what the date is? The year? How’s time traveling treating you?”

Brie popped out of the bedroom wearing her running gear and a scowl. Out of the three, she was in the best shape. It wasn’t even close. When it was lacrosse season, she played lacrosse, and all other seasons were lacrosse training seasons. She scooped up her black coffee and drained it, then gave Reuben a peck on the cheek.

Normally, Nacho would have joined in on the mocha creamer, but he intended to start his training right this minute. “Hold up, Brie, I’ll go running with you.”

Brie had retrieved a huge cup from the cupboard and was filling it with water. She froze, as did her fiancé. She slowly turned to face Nacho. “What did you just say?”

“I want to go running with you. I mean, we’ll start off together. You’ll run way ahead of me, and I’ll probably puke. But hey, I want to get into shape.” He turned his focus to Reuben, his eyes full of a killing intent he had been honing for years. It had no effect on his friend whatsoever, bouncing off the steady-minded man without leaving a mark. “You should come with us as well. We both need to take our health seriously.”

“Good lord, he was telling the truth about time traveling! Either that, or he was swapped out with an alien.” Reuben slammed a box of Lucky Charms on the table along with a jug of whole milk. “I’m extremely healthy. My outlook on life is very positive. My cardiovascular system glows with my positivity.”

“Your arteries shouldn’t glow. That’s radiation,” Nacho deadpanned as cereal clattered into the bowl in a sprinkle of marshmallowy goodness.

“He’s right.” Brie caught Reuben’s arm before he could pour the milk. “Don’t eat. Come with us.”

“Don’t you love me for who I am?” Reuben turned puppy-dog eyes to his future bride. “I’m already so handsome.”

He had a mop of curly brown hair, dimples in his cheeks, and a charismatic affability. Reuben was the big guy everyone adored. Nacho had always liked that about his friend. Brie had been the driven, ambitious rich girl with a hateful family that tried to dictate her every move. They did not like that Reuben and Nacho had grown up in Wyandotte County. How Brie had met them, let alone managed to maintain friendship despite their social differences, was as mysterious as anything else in life.

Since he was pondering mysterious things, Nacho’s eyes wandered over to the notification still hovering in the bottom right corner of his vision. The boon from Kronos, a Patron named after… the god of time? Probability Vision, time… yeah, that tracked. Unless he was actually crazy, Nacho had been given a window into the future. He had to run that possibility by his friends, but subtly.

First, he couldn’t pass up Lucky Charms; actual cereal with actual milk. It had been a long, long time, and he’d spent so many days hungry. He dove in, crunching and loving every bite.

Brie scowled at him as her hands jumped to her hips. “I thought we were going running!”

Reuben joined Nacho in the cereal feast. “Don’t worry, babe. I can run with a full stomach. That’ll be the least of my worries.”

Nacho took a minute, eyes closed, to really savor the sweet, milky goodness. Then he presented his friends with a very important question. “Hey, guys. What if one day, you woke up crazy? How would you know you were crazy?”

“Aluminum foil hats would be one way. Tell us, Nacho,” Reuben replied lightly, narrowing his eyes as he leaned in closer and lowered his voice, “are they listening right now?”

That was a troubling thought. Were the Patrons watching? Was Kronos? They… well, they might be. Nacho winced as he realized that he couldn’t admit that; he might be a touch paranoid, but they would think he was off his rocker. Brie sipped her coffee, wrinkling her forehead in concentration. “Let’s look at this logically. If, objectively, you couldn’t determine what was real and what wasn’t, I would think that’d be the definition of mental illness—the inability to discern agreed-upon reality.”

Brie, as usual, was the brilliant and rational person in his friends' relationship. That wasn’t to say that Reuben was dim, but he reacted to things with emotions first, jokes second, and seriousness only when the situation had already begun to devolve.

“Objective reality. Sure.” Nacho drank the rest of his coffee, keeping his grimace hidden behind the mug. “I’m going to be doing a little thought experiment for the next few months. If I act weird, it’s only an experiment. I had this… dream about the future. You guys have known me for years, right? Can I ask that you give me a few months of weirdness?”

“How weird?” Reuben polished off his mocha and slowly pushed back from the table, doing his best to procrastinate long enough that a run wouldn’t be feasible. “Are we talking ‘making a mask out of other people’s faces’ strange, or ‘bonus workouts and diet shift’ strange? On that note, why is it so hard to decide which one I’d rather you do…?”

“Nothing dangerous to other people,” Nacho promised as he pushed away as well, though he also remained in his seat. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s real, and… okay, I’ll probably have a tiny obsession with knives.”

“Well, that’s not worrying.” Brie stood up, prompting the other two to get on their feet and move. After Nacho and Reuben got into better gear, they went out into the streets and trotted down the sidewalk on their way to the Bush Creek Trail.

Brie zoomed away in no time flat, leaving the two men to huff and puff on their own. The run was terrible, and both were sick to their stomachs in no time flat, but it was a start. Thanks to the message that was still available for him to call up, Nacho knew for a fact that the Probability Vision was real, the Juxtaposition would happen, and that Kronos had given him the ultimate gift of knowledge.

The run was just the start. For the next few weeks, he kept things as normal as possible, until his friends were no longer questioning his sanity. Not about his ‘dream’, at least. Reuben still wiped away false tears when he saw that Nacho was working out every day. Soon, he started doing the absolute minimum for school. Publicly dropping out now, with less than a month until he graduated, would raise red flags with Reuben and Brie, and he couldn’t have that. Their lives depended on them trusting him, and his sanity depended on their lives.

There were a few things that might have created issues for him if anyone looked too deeply. First, he began applying for credit cards and maxing them out like a madman. Second, Reuben got a C in his economics class in the exact way Nacho had predicted; but by then, the memory of his outburst had faded. Third and finally, Nacho started wearing baggy clothing to hide the fact that he was starting to coat his body in dense muscle.

He had been given six months to get fast, strong, and build up his endurance. Not only was he rigorously working out and eating an ideal combination of macros, but he was also focused on martial arts and knife-fighting to the point that he was sure to wind up on a watch list in the near future… or he would have been, if the government had survived moving to a new world.

Silver linings, and all that.

There were still a few major points of frustration for him; namely, the fact that all of the muscle memory he’d established as the elite assassin of the Final Victory Guild had just… vanished. He could remember moves and attacks perfectly, yet he couldn’t perform them. That realization had forced him to start from the beginning once more, making basic motions hundreds of times to carve out a proper receptacle for the skills he needed.

It had been well-established that real-world skills translated into the Juxtaposition’s gaming system. There was one major caveat: only one real-life skill would be turned into a Skill, something recognized by the system. It selected whatever it saw as an individual’s highest proficiency that was viable for translating into use in the new world. That meant that if Nacho generated excellent skills in small blades, then he’d do well during the Evaluation, and he’d do well after it. He already had his sights set on completing the quest for the MurderSong blades.

Myron would start off clueless in the game. Nacho wouldn’t. Even now, months ahead of the evaluation, and years before his rival would become well-known, the thought of messing with the smarmy little creep brought a cheesy grin to Nacho’s face.

Though he focused almost all his efforts into knife work, he did buy a small bow and arrow, then took archery lessons. Having a ranged weapon was a nice option, and while he’d done most of his killing up close, he’d put an arrow through a neck or two during the game. It wasn't a skill to ignore if at all possible, and he had at least a little time to spare.

Eventually, he was caught by his friends and no longer needed to hide his activities as thoroughly. After their initial shock, Reuben and Brie managed to be tolerant of Nacho’s newfound interest in arrows and knives, even if they taunted him by calling him ‘Legolost-his-mind’, or ‘knife boy’. Luckily for the burgeoning assassin, the pair had more important things to do. Specifically, finding careers and planning their wedding.

Nacho, knowing the entire system was about to fail, lived off credit cards, drained his bank account to pay rent, and forced Reuben to keep running. Nacho also bought a high-end weight training set and started lifting weights in the apartment, convincing his friend to join him by continuously mentioning how good he would look during his wedding.

While Reuben got in shape, Nacho got thicker; his dedication began to pay off. Soon he was able to keep up with Brie while running long distances and could even outpace her in wind sprints one out of every three attempts. While the others were training to look or feel good, the returnee had the ultimate motivation—survival. Having trouble due to overworking himself was nothing compared to the fact that in six months, the three of them would be fighting for their lives against any number of nightmares right in broad daylight.

As time began to run out, Nacho started taking loans from anyone—federal, private, or illegal—that would let him, accepting terrible deals and massive penalties in order to afford the survival gear that would keep his trio alive for at least the first few days of the Juxtaposition.

There were times that he doubted himself or yearned to take a long rest, but every time something notable happened, like a political snafu, or outrage over the stock market, Nacho remembered those events unfolding exactly as they had before. That made him feel better and helped him push through: reality was matching his memories.

Finally, the dreaded day that would change everything was approaching. A week before that fateful Saturday in November, Nacho called Reuben and Brie, letting them know that he had gone all-out on a special wedding present for them. After a fair bit of begging and calling in every favor from them that he had—or would ever gather, according to the bride—the couple agreed to meet him at the apartment at eleven-thirty a.m.

They had to be there, together, at noon. That had been the problem in the simulation. They’d been split up.

Reuben and Brie had died from that mistake.

Nacho took a deep breath, slowly letting it out as he forced his thoughts to the fact that he wasn’t going to let that happen again. He knew that this one change would make their lives better, and even though things might suck for a while, they could tackle anything as a team.

A grin appeared on his face as the minutes ticked past: Now that the trial was almost here and he was fairly ready… he could barely wait for it. It felt like replaying a level after playing the game to the end once before. Even though he had experienced a bad ending the first time, now he knew where things were, how to access the system properly, and what sorts of dangers to avoid.

“Practice makes better.”