I feel awful when I wake up. Once again, I have no memory of falling asleep and no idea how long I was out. We can’t keep doing this. Sleep deprivation is going to kill us as surely as any monster, but every time we sleep in a random cave or corridor, we risk getting ambushed. Not sleeping enough could kill us, yet sleeping at all could kill us.


    I remove my hopelessly dirty glasses and rub the crust out of my eyes—right, I was crying. Or rather, Allison was. The salty streaks on my cheeks remind me of how much she’s hurting. For a brief moment I entertain the idea of just changing my mind about the magic, but I shake my head.


    What we need most right now is security. Not just food and water, but a safe place to sleep. I have no idea how to accomplish that, but defending ourselves is a close second. It’s only a matter of time before some creature gets the jump on us, and when that happens I need to be able to handle it.


    Allie’s magic idea might be a path towards that, but it’s too risky. Too many unknowns. How does magic work? Is it something that can be learned, or just an intrinsic part of the monsters here? When the [W—the mechanism first initialized us, there was something about templates. Maybe we’ve just got the wrong one.


    Glancing at omnipresent words hovering silently in the back of my mind, I note that there are a few changes to the list of available classes.


    The [Angel] related one is gone, and even though I remember what it was called, I struggle to actually bring it to mind. Part of me is disappointed that we missed out on such a powerful option, but Allison is probably right—it was a trap.


    Not a thing about magic, unfortunately. [Butcher], [Scavenger], and [Cleaner] are new, but they’re mostly focused around recovering food from dead things. I’ve more or less managed that just fine on my own—what I need is a way to make dead things.


    I close my eyes and focus on [Defender]...


    [Tier 0 Defender]*


    A stalwart protector. A shield and spear raised in defense against the enemy.


    Skill - Retaliation: Increased Power and Resilience when fighting to defend someone or something.


    Attribute bonus: Resilience.


    Advancement: Fight to protect things.


    It’s exactly what we need, and there’s no guessing involved. It will make us stronger, and if [Wanderer] fuses into [Unified Collective] the way I’m hoping, then I’ll have stacking Resilience bonuses while I’m in front, plus the extra Power from the skill while I protect Allison.


    Okay, so there’s some guessing. I don’t know for sure that it will work that way, but it feels right. Our shared class is completely synced, and as for the skill, why else would the class even be offered? All of the ones we’ve seen so far have been situational—related to something we’ve seen or done.


    When I first woke up, I protected Allison from that skeleton. I’m certain that’s what made [Defender] available. That means it should count, and from experience, the bonuses from skills are no joke. The Awareness bonus from [Survivalist] let me follow a trail of long-dried snail slime in almost total darkness.


    I sigh as I fruitlessly try to clean my glasses with my dirty cloak. Too bad Awareness can’t fix our eyes. We’re going to be in so much trouble when these get broken. I manage to at least evenly distribute the smudging. It will have to do for now.


    Replacing my glasses, it takes every ounce of my willpower not to shriek in surprise at the laser gecko less than a foot away from me. My heart pounds in my chest, the surge of adrenaline instantly snapping me out of my sleep-deprived grogginess.


    It’s not moving, but it’s so close! I try to remind myself that if it was going to eat us, it would have done it while I was asleep, but it’s a small comfort. I’ve seen how fast these things can move, and what their claws will do.


    How did I miss it?! It’s mottled skin blends in with the cave walls almost perfectly, but in the tight confines of the tunnel, I’m close enough to touch it. With my glasses and the residual light from the candles beneath my cloak, I can even see it breathing.


    It doesn’t emit any body heat, though. With my eyes closed or my glasses off, I’d never even know it was there. It’s a perfect ambush predator and it has me dead to rights.


    So why is it just sitting there?


    I know it’s a predator, and I’ve seen how vicious these things can be, but twice now I’ve gotten caught by one without anything happening. Is it the same one? That seems unlikely, and even if it was, that doesn’t explain why it’s leaving us alone. Why did it stop next to us in the first place?


    I try to inch my away further into the corridor—I know this one loops back to the Twisted Cavern, so if I can just make it to the other entrance I’ll—


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    I freeze as its head twitches in my direction and its gaze settles on me. Okay—so much for that plan. The last one was in some kind of torpor, but this guy is much more alert. I’m a little worried about its eyes on me. It may have taken a while, but I saw them use their gaze to heat up a rock enough to melt it.


    Wait, that’s it! Heat! Everything snaps together in my head—the sluggish lizard near the stream, the wayfinding candles that disappeared while we weren’t looking, the laser eyes, even the way the room got colder when they used their magic. It all makes sense!


    They’re lizards! Cold blooded! They have magic that makes heat, but it uses up the heat around them—or maybe moves it? I’m not sure, but that’s not the point. They need warmth! The candles don’t provide much, but they also don’t seem to ever run out. That’s why the first one we saw was so slow—the stream is freezing cold!


    And if I’m right, that’s where our candles have been disappearing to, as well. Maybe the geckos were eating them, or maybe they are smarter than I thought and they carried some away to furnish their lair. That would explain why this one just cozied up to us instead of eating us in our sleep. With all the candles in my cloak, I’m a big source of warmth.


    With a chill, I realize that the first gecko we met might have warmed up next to us while we were sleeping, then returned to its spot before we woke up. Then again, that seems implausible, and we were pretty close to the stream, so maybe it didn’t bother.


    That still leaves me with a conundrum, though. This gecko probably doesn’t want its new basking rock to run off. It hasn’t tried to kill me yet, but that doesn’t mean it’s just going to leave me alone. I’m not ready to start picking fights yet, so that means I need an escape plan.


    Distraction? The snail didn’t care when I tried throwing a candle, but maybe it will be more effective on the gecko...or maybe that spooks it into attacking. Ugh, I don’t know what to do. I hate not having the answer.


    “What did I miss?”


    My anxiety spikes at the sound of Allison’s voice, but the gecko doesn’t move. I relax a bit, remembering that only I can hear her.


    “Oh, sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t realize we had company.”


    I don’t really have a way to answer her, so I just nod slowly.


    “Is it friendly?”


    My first instinct is to shake my head, but instead I offer her a shrug—I don’t actually know.


    “Huh...and it just sort of snuck up on us while we were sleeping?”


    I nod again. I wish I could communicate everything, but I don’t want to make any sudden sounds or movements.


    “Then it probably leaves us alone as long as we don’t bother it, right? Just back away slowly and see if it tries to follow.”


    I make an exasperated face. She can’t see it, but to my surprise, Allie reacts anyway.


    “Don’t give me that look! You’re overthinking this, Vi. Animals don’t just randomly attack unless they’re hungry, and if Mister Gecko was hungry enough to eat us he’d have done it already. Think of it like a wild dog—you’ll be fine as long as you don’t provoke it.”


    I’m not good with dogs. Fine, I’ll try it. Anything is better than just standing here forever. I tighten the grip on my dagger under our cloak, readying myself just in case. Slowly, step by agonizing step, I back away into the corridor. Its eyes follow me the entire time, but it remains stock still.


    Once I’m fully out of its reach, I pick up a bit of speed, but by the time I’m halfway to the first bend, the lizard loses interest and scampers off into the caverns. I lean against the wall of the cave and heave a sigh of relief.


    “Thank you, Allison,” I say. “How are you feeling?”


    “Me?!” she asks incredulously. “How are you feeling? Are you okay? That must have been terrifying.”


    Her concern puts me off balance, and I furrow my brows, unsure how to react.


    “Uh...I’m fine? That was a precarious situation, but you made the right call to get us out of it. Thank you.”


    “You already said that,” she points out. “But you’re welcome! I’ve always been pretty good with animals.”


    Another glaring difference between us. If it wasn’t obvious enough before, there’s no way that we’re just different versions of the same person. The differences in memory and personality are too much to be explained by value drift. I don''t feel like I’m a passenger in her body, though—it’s our body.


    More questions for another time.


    “You’re awfully chipper considering...” I trail off, not sure how to bring up the fact that I made her cry herself to sleep.


    “Oh yeah!” she laughs. “I always feel better after a good cry. Really needed that nap too, dang. This place sucks bones—I hate it, and yeah I’m really disappointed that I have to put off trying to learn magic, but you’re right.”


    “I am?”


    “Yeah. Magic is cool and all, but survival comes first, and you’re a lot better at that than I am. If you say we need to prioritize being able to fight, then I defer to you. I’d rather not go around killing stuff, but I’m not so childish that I’d let us starve to death over some misguided pacifism.”


    I pause, uncertain how to respond to that.


    “That’s...very mature of you.”


    She rolls her eyes—or, our eyes? Wait, how did she—?


    “You don’t need to patronize me, Vi,” Allison chides. “Look, I know I haven’t been a very good friend or...roommate or bodymate or—headmate, I guess? I want to help, and I’m frustrated at how useless I feel.”


    “You made that map,” Violet points out.


    I shake my head. “You could have just done that yourself. And I’m sure you would have, even without my wayfinding class. The gecko just now was a good reminder—we’re not the same person, Violet. We have different things we’re interested in, and different things we’re good at. I can’t let my selfish desire to feel useful hold you back from keeping us alive.”


    “I see,” she says quietly.


    After a beat, I realize she doesn’t have a follow up and sigh. “For now, this is your element—your time to shine. If we ever make it back to civilization, then maybe it will be mine and you’ll feel just as useless.”


    Violet chuckles. “I’ll look forward to it. In the meantime, we should try to finish leveling up your [Wanderer] class as soon as possible.”


    “Good plan,” I agree. “Lead the way!”


    “Um, Allie...you’re in front right now. We switched while you were talking.”


    Wait, we did?! Oh...so we did. I hadn’t even noticed. I reflexively try to look at my status, and—


    [Level up!]


    Unified Collective is now level 10.


    +3 Ego.


    Unified Collective has reached its maximum threshold. [Upgrade] or [Fuse] the class to unlock further progression.


    “Holy moley!”