Making my way downtown, running fast, emojis pass, and I'm feeling murder bound, da na na na na na I'm gonna kill you....
As the morbid song rang through my head, I squatted down in a hidden corner alleyway, pressing my eyes in frustration.
It had been about 3 hours of trekking around the city while searching for an acceptable new home, and every single one had been a dud.
I had gone to apartment buildings, hotels, motels, hostels, churches, libraries, and everything in between, only to be rejected by message after message.
[❌No Entry Allowed❌]
[😜Try Again!😜]
[❌It's Not Quite Right❌]
[😜Try Again!😜]
[❌It's A Bit Lacking❌]
[😜Try Again!😜]
[❌This Casa is not your Casa❌]
[😜Try Again!😜]
Was I angry that I had wasted three hours avoiding the patrolling military, starving my ass off, and getting trolled by a bilingual textbox while wearing stinky, dirty, blood-soaked clothing?
Of course not.
Why get mad when you can get even later?
I planned on properly implementing the new and improved code of Hammurabi: an eye for an (eye + leg + arm).
When I catch you, H.E.L.P Apocalypse Co. CEO….when I catch you, I'll make sure this employee handbook flies into your forehead.
Shelving that thought for later, I stared up at the full moon that had risen before I knew it while contemplating my circumstances.
Although I had dealt with tricky situations while growing up, I…had never been homeless before.
I had never gone camping due to personal circumstances or slept in the streets, and I really didn't want to try it out now.
Even if I ignored the military troops wandering around, it was dark and cold, and there seemed to be a strange shift in the air.
More and more people were filling the streets, clumping in groups of 3 or more, and since every building I tried to enter refused me, I couldn't find any information, food, or water.
The only thing I had were my cupcakes.
Additionally, with the shady expressions of people, as they eyed me up and down while touching the black bands on their wrists, the tension in the air was a bit too much for me to risk approaching anyone for help.
If they had abilities like the amateur teenage surgeon who used me for dissection practice, wouldn't I have to feel that unbearable pain again?
Pass.
Fortunately, it seemed my bloody clothing and face were steering people away from me, but I could hear the sounds of animals howling and screeching that I had never heard before in a city.
It was unnerving, to say the least.
I hadn't seen any animals, including the pigeons that were usually visible, but I was a bit afraid to find out if animals had gotten the same abilities as their human counterparts and what would happen if they, the regular people, and the military clashed.
I already saw one head blown off today, and I had directly experienced being split in two.
I felt my practical experience was enough, and I needed to find the skip button to this situation.
I really needed to use this brain of mine.
Sanctuary Spark.
Almost absentmindedly, I tapped the band on my left wrist, grabbed the iridescent feather with vibrant hues of red, yellows, and greens, and waved it around.
It was beautiful and seemed unreal with how it glowed and reflected light.
Like a mini rainbow.
Truly stunning.
And very dangerous.
It almost felt like I could stare at it for hours, wholly hypnotized into staying still eternally. My eyes locked with the object, which felt like a warm peace of home.
Shaking off the compulsion, I tapped it against the black band on my wrist and slowly shoved it in, even though it seemed to be pushing back in refusal.
Cyril: ಠ_ಠ
"Properly enter, or I'll use you to wipe where the sun doesn't shine. You know what I mean, right?"
At my whispered threat, the feather shook a little before obediently entering my wrist, although I got the sensation that it was shaking a fist at me.
"Good job."
Sanctuary…Sanctuary.
Let's take a step back.
A sanctuary spark meant to make me a home.
By definition, a sanctuary is a safe haven, a truly neutral area of refuge and protection.
Religious buildings like churches, mosques, and temples usually fall into this category.
Was H.E.L.P. Apocalypse Co secretly a cult?
...
Well, with how coercive the messaging had been, I could definitely see that.
But, I had gone to different denominations of churches and anything that traditionally fit the definition with no luck, so maybe it was time to change my way of thinking.
The task said I needed to find a work/living space that suited my needs.
Personally, I NEEDED wifi, electricity, hot water, plumbing, a comfy bed, and tasty food.
I NEEDED security to keep crazy people away.
I NEEDED to live near public transportation, grocery stores, and the city center for work and play.
These were all things that could have been provided by my previous home, which I was unlawfully locked out of, and all the establishments that I visited.
But if I thought more primitively, especially using the descriptor on the employee ID card, 'Waystation Intern,' what was actually needed?
As far as I knew, a waystation functioned similarly to an inn or hotel, providing food, water, and shelter as a core offering and other services to guests.
I had already tried entering hotels/motels with no luck, but if I assumed the overarching goal was similar and factored in the Life Preservation Team listed on this stupid, bullshit, unwanted employee ID, then a common goal was formed.
What did humans need to preserve their lives?
Food, water, and shelter.
These had to be produced self-sufficiently or paid for with someone else rendering the service.
These were the core tenets of human survival.
The bare minimum needed to live for more than 3 days.
Again, my previous home fit these descriptions, but if I assumed those things might cease to exist from the way people were acting….
Self-sufficiency or something like that was needed.
In this large city, was there a location where those three things existed together and at least worked semi-functionally?
The answer was a resounding YES.
One of the perks of living in the capital city of the country is that it offers a little bit of everything you are looking for.
And with this line of thinking, there were two viable locations.
The first location actually wasn't too far.
Historical reenactments were a big tourist draw, and there was a very functional one located not too far away in the largest park in the city.
It came complete with a well, a lake, a mini garden, a petting zoo with a barn and functional farm animals, and a historically built tavern and house.
To keep the historic vibe, they still used oil lanterns and even had an outhouse for visitors to use.
Having visited the place on a yearly field trip from elementary school until my high school graduation, I knew it like the back of my hand and could probably wander around with my eyes closed.
As for the second location.
Mmmm.
Well… I could approach it if I were ready to take a first-class express ticket to the afterlife.
It was located where the commander in chief, leader of the nation, and president of the free nation resided—the president's home.
It was developed around 20 years ago due to the previous president's obsession with the good old days, and he had started the tradition of spending holidays like Thanksgiving there.
As someone who wasn't particularly attached to life but hated the thought of pain, I would have to respectfully decline to approach a booby-trapped warzone filled with crazed military officials, snipers, overachieving secret service members, and more, especially since one had already tried to arrest me based on martial law.
Yes.
Let's head to the historical reenactment exhibit.
If that doesn't work...let's steal a motorcycle and leave the city.
If I were still alive after the task time ran out, I would take the opportunity to change my name to McDonald, find a proper farm far away from everybody else, and raise some hopefully normal animals.
Shaking away the random thoughts, I began running toward the south-central park with a random baseball bat in hand.
Even with the supposed martial law, lots of people were filling up the park while chattering.
Someone was chanting something, there were torches, and it looked like a protest or all-out brawl might happen as people began getting riled up.
The crowd was mainly rowdy college-age boys and men, with a few women scattered here and there.
A couple of men in construction outfits with fierce looks in their eyes glare at me.
I arched my brow while waving my bat while pointing to my blood colored clothing, daring them to do something, and they flinched before turning away.
Stupid old geezers. Starting something without the will to back it up.
Satisfied, I skirted the crowd as best as possible and continued at a slow jog.
Honestly, my stamina was shot, and I was so hungry.
Still, as I ran deeper into the park, I noticed a group of four boys jogging after me.
They were not coming too close, but they were still trailing behind me.
"I don't have any money or a phone!" I yelled as I saw they had increased their speed.
"Oh, don't worry!"
"You're worth at least 100!"
"Nah bro, his clothes are hella bloody, meaning he murked several people. It's at least double that!"
I was worth what?
These little bastards.
Ignoring my aching sides, I turned down the left path and began putting on my last bursts of speed as I spotted the tall metal fence that surrounded the 2 story tavern and home that was the entrance to the exhibit.
It was a simple white building with a wrap-around porch.
On the lawn surrounding it were things used during the tour, like an old-style butter churner, a washboard and bucket, a loom, and a stone-lined well with several buckets around it.
Clearing the fence with ease, I grabbed the butter churner that I saw, made sure the pointed end was facing away from me, and flung it at the head of one of the boys getting boosted by his friends up top.
Fucking amateurs.
Bang!
"You bastar ahh!"
It hit his face dead center, and he screamed before crashing down on the rest of them, and they began screaming and trying to escape the mass of flailing limbs.
Rather than watch this mess, I removed the feather from my wrist while running toward the door, fully expecting to run into a barrier, but surprisingly….
It began floating in the air, wrapping everything in its rainbow iridescence and then disappearing.
[🔔Ding!🔔]
[🎉👏👏👏👏👏🎉WOW🎉👏👏👏👏👏🎉]
[✅This Place Is Not The Worst!✅]
[Would you like to use the Sanctuary Spark to Claim This Location? It cannot be moved unless you pay for it with employee points in the future.]
"Yep, yes, yes. Claim it!" I stared at the men attempting to climb the fence again before looking for something to throw at them.
[🆗Understood... the area 2 miles east to west, 4 miles north to south has been nominally claimed as your Sanctuary. Please name your Sanctuary.]
"Let's call it, I want to quit." I calmly reported.
[❌Rejected❌]
[😜Try Again!😜]
Cyril: ಠ_ಠ
"Free me from my misery?"
[❌Rejected❌]
[😜Try Again!😜]
"I hate this job"
[❌Rejected❌]
[😜Try Again!😜]
"Forceful employment is a human rights violation. Legally, I'm allowed to quit."
[❌Rejected❌]
[😜Try Again!😜]
"Do you know who my mother is?"
[❌Rejected❌]
[😜Try Again!😜]
Cyril: ಠ_ಠ
Finally, one of the boys made it over the fence and began sprinting toward me while yelling angrily.
He shot his arms outward, and some of the objects on the grass started unsteadily rising in the air before falling to the ground.
As they rose up once again, I began mentally cursing the chat box.
A telekinetic? Bro, where the hell were my abilities? What the hell was I supposed to do with a class called Waystation Intern??
I sighed before hiding behind a wooden lounge chair.
The butter churner I had previously thrown launched forward like a bullet and shattered three feet away from my head, causing me to cover my head from the shrapnel.
….
Well…
At least his aim was terrible.
Sighing, I came up with something that was reasonable.
"Let's name it Oasis?"
This means a nice haven for me but hopefully a brutal death by sandstorm, heat stroke, and poisonous animals for you.
[🔔Ding!🔔]
[✅Your Sanctuary is now named Oasis✅]
[🔔Ding!🔔]
[Intern Remote Orientation Task 1: Find A New Home Base Within 6 Hours🏠 is complete.]
[🎉👏👏👏👏👏🎉WOW🎉👏👏👏👏👏🎉]
"Woooow." I mocked it before narrowing my eyes. "Where's my reward?"
As if in response to my question, the door opened slowly, and I quickly crawled in and slammed the door shut before collapsing on the floor beside my box of cupcakes and bat.
It was dark and smelled musty.
I couldn't see anything at all.
I was tired.
And hungry.
But first.
I glanced at the three glowing items slowly emerging from my wrist and floating in the air.