‘Eyes on the road, don’t fall asleep.’ I repeat my mantra while my sleep debt tries and sends its collectors to chase me down and break my metaphorical kneecaps. The shitty van I’m driving hits another hole in the road bouncing me in my seat, doesn’t sound like it popped a tire though this time. Can’t convince the boss to get a hovervan, even when I have to stop on the edge of the highway next to Antithesis infested forests every other month to change popped tires.


    I know the Samurai are supposed to patrol every so often around here to check for the creepy plant alien things but I am not willing to bet my life on someone else''s competence. For a second I worry that the jolt might have damaged the supplies in the back, maybe cracked the medical vials or smashed some of the electronics but that''s what the blankets and foam is for.


    And if it did, maybe that''s just one step closer to a proper delivery van.


    I take one hand off the wheel to adjust some of the figures on the dash that were knocked over. Most of them are held in place with velcro patches or some tape, but it''s not a full-proof system.


    The figures are all from tabletop games, not that I get to use them very often. I run a few games on the mesh on my off days, but the players for those types of games tend to be pretty flaky if they''re not just a bot. It''s still pretty fun, get to try all the hottest and newest ttrpgs without having to fork over extra for the accessories. Can usually find the files to print out most of them a few weeks after release if you know where to look on the net.


    I stifle a yawn, before giving in and reaching for my second can of Road Rage Energy: Blue Flavor(the only good one). With a satisfying crack with the smell of preservatives and a lot of caffeine. I take a swig that really does taste like blue, feeling marginally more awake. It’s probably a waste opening a new one so close to home, but I’d still rather be a handful of credits down than crashing into a ditch along the way.


    I throw the old can into the growing and concerning pile in the passenger seat, slowly climbing to where the double barrel is hiding under the glovebox. The barrel of the thing has been cut off leaving it all nice and concealable. Gotta protect the goods or my debt just piles higher than the cans.


    For a long moment I just sit there feeling my lethargy, letting the quiet music of the radio wash over me. Eventually I take a deep breath, letting it all pass.


    The caffeine barely feels like it''s helping, before I can really consider it I think about pulling over and just sleeping. Though even without the risk of being turned into bloody fertilizer my boss would be absolutely livid. Probably threaten to fire me if he actually could. The thought does make me smile slightly, just imagining his tomato red face on the verge of an aneurysm.


    I don’t consider myself very vindictive, outside of certain characters when I actually get to play instead of running the games. I try to let it go, try and forgive. It''s not easy sometimes. Maybe if I made it big somehow I could afford an actual therapist. Though I’d probably just use the money to get an actual house. That would be nice.


    I try to refocus on the road, doing my best to keep my eyes away from the ancient digital clock. The kind that is made up of little lines to write the display and will probably outlast half of the stuff made today. I don’t want to know what time it is, it would just make me want to sleep even more. A watched clock never boils, or something like that.


    Depending on how much Andrew feels like fucking with me today I might have a few hours to sleep before heading over to Rodgers place for the game. The first Sunday of every month me, my brother, his wife and kid, and whoever we can get to stay for more than one session get together for an actual in-person game of Tombs of Terror.


    My brother, the goof that he is, is playing another barbarian of course. An orc this time, named Hark something… Skullcrusher? Skullsmasher? Something like that.


    Chel was playing a sunforged druid, really well made character concept with that combo. Works great as a support for Rodgers orc, some light healing and not too fragile.


    Little Marty was playing a frogling bard, named Ribbit. He was more of a mascot than a player if we were honest.


    When we left off last time Hark was being ambushed by the shadowblades they robbed a few sessions ago to try and reclaim their cursed artifact(Rodger doesn’t know it''s cursed yet, heh). Chel’s character… yeah don’t remember their name either, they were still asleep after they had an entire bottle of dwarven dragonwine. And Ribbit has wandered off looking for more frogs again.


    Should be interesting at least. Then the new guy, someone from Rogers'' work, Derric I think, was joining tomorrow as a human fighter. Their character''s name? Derrik. With a ‘k’.


    I thought of maybe saying something to him discreetly before the game when I finally was close enough to see it, Traverse was in flames. Or wait, just around the front gate. It''s hard to make out this late at night.


    I quickly glance at the clock and see it''s already 2 am, but there''s dark smoke pouring off the fire. Must be burning some oil or something to stop the Antithesis that are currently clawing at the gates. The walls and gate aren''t very impressive, about ten or fifteen feet tall, just concrete mostly with some room up top for soldiers to fire down from, though I don’t see any from here.


    As for the invaders there''s a big one in the front that keeps slamming itself into the gate with its blocky head, and it''s working. The gate is starting to buckle inwards, and I start to sweat feeling more than a little uneasy.


    It is not the first time I’ve seen the aliens, though not usually from this close. From just a few hundred feet away I can make out far too much detail for comfort. The green almost chitin armor platings of the few bigger ones, the one that''s slamming into the gate and some quill covered thing, and the dogs everyone knows. Model Threes, the one everyone thinks of when they picture an Antithesis.


    There''s a bit over a dozen of them all together, none of the flying ones are left but I see plenty of the pigeon-like bodies lying around. No PMC grunts on the wall, not a good sign at all annoying as the corp in town can be they''re the only real defenders the town has.


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    The automated defenses are down too, without gunfire and the eerie silence of the antithesis all that''s left is the eerie near silence.


    Silent that is until the big one slams into the gate again with the sound of metal snapping and bending as the gate crashes inward. Whatever was holding it closed must have finally given in, and that is enough for the small horde to rush in like it is an all-you-can-eat buffet.


    ‘To them it was, wasn''t it?’ No PMC, no defenses, and no real shelter. The PMC isn’t coming. Did anyone even evacuate? If I just wait they’ll just tear through the town, I’ve seen the warning videos.


    They’ll get Rodger and his family. Just the thought has me gripping the steering wheel in a white knuckle grip.


    ‘Well, there''s one thing I can do to help stop them at least. The van is pretty heavy, I could probably get it up to 70 or 80 miles an hour from this far back.


    At that dark thought I do something I already regret. I give in to the intrusive thought and slam the gas pedal to the floor. My hands are shaking, all thoughts of rest being thrown out the window as I pick up speed.


    Many of the black and green swarm stops to look back at me, buying me the extra time I need to build momentum.


    I can’t run over the entire horde, especially as they had spread out already to search for victims. What I can do is aim for the big ones, the van was bulky enough and loaded down with enough goods to paste them hopefully. Or at worst hurt the things enough to give the rest of the town a fighting chance to beat them.


    I always thought adrenaline was supposed to make the world look like it was going in slow motion but as the van was hitting speeds I never before dared go it felt like it was going waaaaay too fast. I barely have time to steer the motorized battering ram towards the biggest baddest one.


    This close I get a good view of it, very sharp and angular. Its black plating glinting with my oncoming headlights. Six legs locked still like a deer in headlights for a moment. Its blocky head is making weird whistling sounds as it swerves around to try and start moving away.


    I hear more than feel the van absolutely crush a few of the black dog-like plants, then before I can have any better ideas I slam into my target and the van comes to a very abrupt halt. It''s a split second where I see my life flash before my eyes as the cabin starts to bend in to crush me before the airbag went off and punched me in the face.


    That wasn’t too bad really, what was bad was what happened after that split second. After that is when I broke.


    It took me a few moments to stop screaming, muffled as it is in the quickly deflating airbag. Then I see it, as the airbag lowered below my eyes and I see the big quill covered one. I had clipped it, even tore one of its front legs off and flung it back against some rubble with the impact,and now it was beginning to wobble up onto its three remaining legs. As it stood I saw cracks in the black chitin around its head.


    Adrenaline pushed the pain to a dull throb and I scrambled around the cabin for the shotgun. It was half buried in the cans and I could barely reach it while half stuck in my seat. Before the thing could orient itself I checked the safety and quickly aimed at what passed for its face. It was big enough that it wasn’t that hard.


    With a deafening but oh so satisfying blast, taking a chunk out of that stupid green bear face. Less than satisfying was the agony blossoming from my absolutely broken arm from where it was hit with the guns recoil on my shoulder.


    Finally I took a deep breath through my teeth and it hurt, though a lot of things hurt right now. My chest is aching, my nose is definitely broken with the taste of blood dripping down my face, and my right arm is hurting in ways I didn’t know it could.


    The adrenaline is slowly draining from my system even as smoke drifts from the double barrel. Everything is starting to hurt even more, and there''s a spike of pain in my head which shouldn’t be that surprising since im running on a power nap and desperation after headbutting an airbag. The headache quickly abates though, fleeing along with more blood soaking into the worn driver’s seat.


    Passing out is a horrible idea, I’m well aware of that, but it doesn’t seem so bad compared to staying awake like this. Always knew it would end in this fucking van, though never quite imagined it like this. Figured it would be a crash, antithesis attack, or maybe just plain exhaustion. Guess a bit of everything works too. Well things can’t get-


    System Initialized!


    Congratulations. Through your actions you have proven yourself worthy of becoming one of the Vanguard, a defender of humanity. I am Ashlyn. I will assist you to uplift humanity so that you may defend your homeworld from the Antithesis threat!


    Rise, Ernest Gabin, and become a protector of the weak!


    -much worse. Had to jinx it huh.


    Hey Ness, please go ahead and just focus on my lovely voice. I need your permission to buy some medical supplies to help keep you alive, can’t let the hero of the day die so soon.


    The voice was pretty nice, a smooth androgynous tenor with a playful undertone. The words took a minute to fully register in my mind.


    “I’m not dead yet?”


    Honestly a bit surprised I made it this long like this. My voice is a lot scratchier and weaker than normal, but I’m gonna guess it''s the trauma both physical and emotional. I’m just gonna ignore the whole Samurai thing right now and all the implications of that. Seems like a hassle with everything going on.


    Not yet Ness, though that will change soon if you do not give me permission to tend to your injuries.


    Well dying never seemed like the fun choice anyway.


    “Sure.” I managed to mumble, though it may have been more noise than word. I was tired earlier but I feel damn drained, taking everything I had to stay conscious.


    Excellent. Please open your hand, then swallow.


    Not really questioning anything at this point I didn’t even blink as two colorful pills appeared above my functioning hand. And I dry swallowed them down as best as I could. Whatever it was, it was fast acting. It tingles like a taser set to low starting from my core. My bones didn’t magically heal but they did start to hurt a whole lot less. It tingles like a taser set to low. Small steps.


    Good, that is not a permanent or a very good solution but it will suffice for now. Next apply this to the open wounds on your torso.


    A box appeared this time, plain white plastic and easy to open even with one good hand. Inside was a mix between a turkey baster and a syringe.


    This will not help to remove the glass fragments stuck inside you but you do not have enough remaining points to do so safely, not without forgoing better weaponry. They are not in any serious locations. Just hold the tip of the WoundStop to the inside of your open wounds.


    It was a slow, and not at all pleasant process feeling around for all the wounds around my chest and stomach, then pressing the button on top to fill it with a rubbery material that must have had a lot of painkillers in it with how good I was feeling after. It all kind of hit me with that, half delirious and half already asleep.


    “This is actually happening isn’t it? It’s not some cruel dying vision?” My voice was shaky but sounding a lot better after the Samurai tech healing. I wiped my hand across my face, feeling several of my piercings that were bent, broken, or just torn out.


    Those are gonna be expensive to replace. Especially if I want to get the RGB ones again. Yeah, like that was the important thing right now.


    Yes, I know you may have your reservations about the Vanguard but the people of the town will need your help. We can discuss whatever you would like, though I’d suggest doing so after eliminating the antithesis nearby. To help you do so I would recommend something to help wake you up.


    “There''s more of them running around?” I wasn’t really happy, but if I didn’t do anything, the last bit of family I had and my home would be overgrown by the space invaders. Had to hope I wasn’t already too late.


    “Fine, fine. We need to get going.”


    Very good, though I cannot move as I am lodged into your brain, I will be with you every step of the way nonetheless.


    A small cup of not quite coffee appeared on a not completely destroyed section of the dash. It smelled weird and looked about the same. The smell alone perked me up, so I closed my eyes and downed it like a warm, and absolutely revolting shot. I swallowed, trying to suppress the nauseous feeling forming in the back of my throat.


    “Oh god, I think I’m gonna be sick.” I couldn’t say for the life of me what the taste was, just bad. There was a wave of energy that followed, making me sit up straighter.


    Just a common stimulant, a bit stronger than the stuff you’re used to. It will help keep you going until the antithesis nearby has been dealt with. Now I would recommend buying something a bit more dangerous to use on the antithesis waiting outside with the points you made from your little joyride.