"Fuck," Lea muttered. "Seriously, there's no one else. This is bigger than a personal vendetta, Mary."

  "I know," she said.

  All five of them sprang into action.

  Mary summoned her muskets, which floated around her. Lea formed spears of light with her magic, ready to be fired in merciless volleys. It wasn't visible, but with equal skill, she could instantly raise barriers to protect them all.

  Natalia was a mage too, but a fire mage. Jaime fought just like him: sword and shield. Well, James hadn't drawn his shield.

  He considered it for a moment, but instead charged at the zombies, gripping his sword with both hands. It was a waste of time in a way, wasn't it? The best defense was a good offense.

  With both hands, he could swing the sword faster than ever and kill them before they could do him any real damage. A savage image, almost self-destructive, but undeniably appealing. He wanted to unleash his power explosively and go berserk. There was nothing wrong with that.

  It was better than thinking about the dead, about how empty the town was, or what would happen now. Or later, when there were no enemies left to fight. It was definitely much better.

  "No one is coming to help us," Jaime said.

  "Shh, this isn't the time for talk," Mary said.

  But James didn't think he had said it as a mere observation, but rather in resignation to the pain, to the reality of the sheer scale of the catastrophe that had apparently happened, one way or another, while they slept, completely unaware.

  But he didn't want to think about that. Hell no, he didn't. Focusing on slashing through anything that stood in his way was much better, much healthier for body and mind.

  He felt like a wild beast released from its cage. He felt unstoppable.

  Mary probably would have liked to tell him to calm down, to pull back a bit. Because if he kept being reckless, he’d pay for it eventually. But she remained silent and let him work.

  James and the others dispatched the zombies with brutal efficiency, fighting with a coordination that suggested they had been working together for months or even years. The outcome was not unexpected. He had been able to handle two on his own, so a dozen of these things against five of them? They didn't stand a chance. But the coordination part—that was special to him.

  He had spent a long time wandering, feeling like he had no place in the world after all. But here, in this group, he seemed to fit in as if this had always been where he belonged. Well, maybe he was getting his hopes up too much, and anyway, he had other worries he needed to get back to.

  Because soon enough, the asphalt streets were deserted once again. Only motionless corpses lay at their feet. Definitely dead for the second and last time.

  "Can everyone really be dead except us?" Lea murmured, barely daring to pronounce the word "dead," as if saying it out loud would make it more real.

  He understood her. Everyone was feeling the same way. Everyone was paralyzed in the middle of the deserted streets, amidst the blood and guts they had spilled for that very reason.

  Fortunately, they didn't have to be alone with their thoughts for much longer. They didn't have to keep asking themselves something they could never answer without more information. Because the answer came shortly after.

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  A tear in the sky.

  The giant image of a masked person was projected there. The mask was likely unnecessary; something told him that none of them would know who it was anyway. He highly doubted it was Julian or Davis. They wouldn't have caused such an extreme situation.

  "Want to know what's happening?" the stranger asked. "Very simple: you are dreaming."

  James froze. He hadn't expected that. He didn't know what the hell he had expected, but definitely not that. Just like that, his life had switched genres to a fantasy story? Even so, to think that everything that had happened since he woke up this morning was a dream... could he really just accept that? Of course not.

  "Not without information," he muttered.

  What the stranger said next helped him believe it quite a bit.

  "However, that doesn't mean you're safe," he continued. "You must have seen a movie like this, haven't you? Your mind makes it real. If you die in the dream, you die for real."

  It was still hard to believe, but that piece, at least, gave purpose and utility to plunging them into a dream like this. None of the girls were convinced. Neither was he, but Mary least of all. Dreaming? A skill like that couldn't possibly exist.

  You couldn't see his mouth through the mask, but James would bet anything the stranger was laughing. Smirking.

  "Oh, little girl, you have no idea what's possible. This is a whole new industry. Did you really think you all had equal opportunities? Hahahaha," he added dryly, even bitterly. "God, don't make me laugh."

  James felt like he’d been slapped in the face. He was openly mocking his most secret hopes. And the worst part was that James knew it—he had known it deep down from the start—that he was just deluding himself. He understood that perfectly, but James clenched his fists. His hands were shaking.

  "Why reveal yourself, then?" Mary asked.

  That was a good question. A very, very good one. That was what he should have been focusing on, not his wounded pride.

  "Just because," the stranger replied. "Because it doesn't make a difference. Because I just have to keep you asleep long enough for them to come in and slit your throats. And because, honestly... I like it. I really like seeing the fear." James could almost hear him licking his lips. "Anyway."

  It made sense. He hadn't told them anything important after all, like how to escape this dream. So he had been careful; they were still in the same boat. The only difference was that now they knew they didn't have much time left.

  His work done, the stranger vanished without a trace, at least from their sight. He was surely still there watching them. He was the architect of this place, after all.

  As hard as it was to believe, James decided to accept it: this was a dream. There was no point in thinking otherwise, in denying the reality.

  "What do we do now?" said Jaime.

  Mary crossed her arms.

  "I don't know. I have no idea." Her voice trembled slightly. "I don't think they're going to kill us all after what James did in public, the scene he caused with the armor. And his report... how could they make him and four other people disappear? It would be too suspicious."

  That's very logical, James thought. Maybe too logical.

  "If they care about that," he said. "A cornered animal is dangerous."

  Natalia nodded, stepping forward.

  "Is it possible he's lying?"

  "What do you mean?" James asked.

  "If we die in the dream, we die in reality—that's what he said. But why say that? I mean... what if it's a lie? What if that's the way to wake up?"

  James considered it. You didn't have to be a genius to spot the problem; however...

  "It's possible. But do you really want to take that risk?"

  "It's not the first thing I'd try, no," Natalia grimaced. "But if we run out of ideas, I'll do it."

  Mary looked at her. Her expression tried to remain stern, but it softened immediately. She was a very brave girl. It was one thing to think up the plan, but to volunteer... that was like playing Russian roulette where most of the chambers held a bullet.

  He, certainly, wouldn't have volunteered for something like that. Selfishly, he would have thought "let someone else do it," and that was the sanest, healthiest way to live. However, maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be that kind of person—at least, he thought so for a moment.

  "Natalia..." said Mary. She couldn't continue.

  "I'll do it," she repeated. "We only need one person to test it. It's possible that once I'm awake, I can wake the rest of you normally and protect you if they try anything."

  Though with great reluctance, Mary nodded.

  "Let's think of something else first. There has to be something around here, some clue."

  The question was what and how. But they didn't stand around with their arms crossed for long.

  "It might follow dream logic," said Lea. "Killing ourselves is a bit drastic, but we can try the shock of falling first."

  Now that he thought about it, as a child he had often dreamed of falling from a great height—from a building, a plane, wherever. But in the end, he always woke up before hitting the ground. It made sense. It could work.

  Mary didn't think about it much either.

  "Okay, it's worth a try."