"Forget about it, kid. You're what, sixteen years old or something like that? I'm ninety-eight years old and I'm barely a quarter of the way there!"
Mikhail looked at him oddly, causing the old fart to snort.
"Don't look at me like that! I'm progressing rather fast compared to most others in my generation… Tch. The Early Metamorphosis Realm is a farcical game of chance, if you ask me…"
"Not like I would know," Mikhail said while rolling his eyes.
Yagnar let out a rather bitter chuckle.
"Trust me runt, you will… Anyway, you understand what an Evolver is now, yeah?"
"I do, yeah. But, why does becoming stronger give anyone the right to murder another person? And over contrived bullshit, no less!"
Yagnar sighed.
"It's not bullshit. Listen, the bottom line is a universal concept that has been around since the dawn of time. It's a person's last nerve. The biggest button you could push. Their limit. Crossing it puts anything on the table."
Yagnar's eyes drifted towards the rocky ground blackened by his fire, illuminated by the lantern hanging behind him.
"Whether it's a no holds barred fight, a devious plot for revenge, murder… Breaking the offending party's ankle… Anything, and I mean anything can be put on the table."
"I heard you the first time, you old fart!"
"Then why do you still have that stupid expression plastered on your face?!"
Mikhail's grimace grew worse.
"Because it's stupid! A person's life shouldn't be such an easy thing to snuff out!"
"And it isn't! For the {Heavens'} sake! It's not like people are murdering each other over benign shit like how their food was cooked!"
"Are you sure?! Mog had no problem killing that asshole over his stupid accusations!"
Yagnar was about to say something but paused. He eyed Mikhail very sternly before shaking his head and drinking some more water, before letting out another, even deeper sigh than before.
"What Murzol did was beyond stupid accusations. It was some of the most disgraceful and disgusting conduct I've seen in my entire life coming from a civilian of one of the six great tribes."
"He disrespected both Kegth, you, and Yargol all at once. You through his ridiculous superstitions. Kegth by saying you were responsible for his death. Yargol for making a mockery of his brother's funeral service."
Yagnar pointed at Mikhail, his voice becoming as stern as his expression.
"You've experienced a lot in only two days. I don't expect you to get everything right away… But you need to catch up quickly, alright? Can you do that for me?"
Now, it was Mikhail's turn to sigh… The world around him seemed to love proving just how different it was from his last life, but it seemed an old lesson he had learned wanted to rear its annoying head once more.
'When in Persia, do as the Persians do… Or, I guess in Ruby's words… You just gotta go with the flow…'
"I can try," Mikhail said halfheartedly.
"That's all anyone can do, kid," Yagnar said before reclining back in his chair with a bit of a wistful expression. "Now, go rest up. We've got a long week of travel ahead of us."
"You got it… One thing though. What does {Heavens} mean?"
Yagnar sighed… He really hated being a teacher.
"The {Heavens} are the creators of the world. Supreme beings that watch over everything that happens."
'Like God? But the phrase is pluralized… Gods, then?'
"Anyway, go. I'm tired. You're tired. Everyone is tired. It's time to sleep, runt."
Mikhail got up with a nod, leaving his empty stone cup behind as he walked over to the tent.
He exchanged one somber atmosphere for another, seeing his friends casually sitting near the entrance, various expressions on their faces. Mog seemed to be rather pensive upon seeing Mikhail.
Yargol was lost in thought, not noticing his return.
Yatur looked drained of energy.
Mikhail gave a half-hearted wave as he reached over to one of the last three sleeping mats, leaving two behind as he walked over the group.
"So… I think I've had enough of today. Good night, fellas."
"G'night," Yargol said absentmindedly.
"Try to sleep well," Yatur said with a sigh, laying down on his back, mirroring Mikhail.
Mog's pensive face grew more tense, but ultimately he repeated Yargol's absentminded well wishes.
***
"Forget about her, you crazy cunt! We have to run!"
The young man shouted angrily at his friend, pulling at his wrist and causing the other man to stumble forwards haphazardly. "I CAN'T LEAVE HER!"
"SHE'S DEAD! MOVE YOUR ASS BEFORE YOU DIE TOO!"
The man who stumbled grit his teeth angrily, tears flowing down his cheeks… And then stopped resisting the pull, following the other man away from the crumbling building behind them. The two had been friends since childhood, all three of them had, in fact.
Yet, unbeknownst to them, in their small college town, a war had broken out across the world. The internet had been out for a few days already, chalked up to the bad weather by most of the local news stations.
Which in reality, was actually the ploy of their nation's enemy. They had cut the nation's flow of information, and with it, their ability to respond to surprise attacks. Surprise attacks like this one, meant to instill fear in the general populace.
Fear meant to corner the people into switching sides. Fear meant to light the embers of chaos into a raging inferno the likes of which no government could ever hope to quell.
The two men ran through the chaos around them, explosions making their ears ring. There was a shelter nearby built for situations like this, though it was mostly used as a shelter from tornados.
The two never would've thought, even in their wildest dreams, that the bomb shelter would be used for its namesake.
"We have to cut through the alleyway! If we stay out here for too long, we're fucked!" said the man leading the sprint. The other meanwhile, seemed to realize something was off. Yet the chaos drowned out his rationality.
The two quickly reached the alleyway between the Athletic Department and the Art Department, both of which had been newly renovated, looking like beacons of the future. They dashed into the alleyway, and suddenly, the man being led through the chaos felt an impending sense of grief.
BOOM!
A bomb exploded directly above them, and at the last second, the man leading the dash stopped and pushed the other away.
Mikhail's eyes widened as the odd sensations clicked.
"No… NO NO! FUCK NO, NOT AGAIN!"
SQUELCH!
He watched with horror as the man who had been leading him through the chaos was crushed to death, his blood and viscera spraying Mikhail's face, some of it landing in his mouth, causing him to wretch violently.
He coughed violently, cursing whatever gods might be watching for having to experience this awful memory so vividly…
***
Mikhail shot up off his sleeping mat, and ran outside, leaving his bewildered group of friends behind.
He ran over to the nearest tree and used it as support before vomiting violently, unable to hold back any longer.
He completely emptied out his stomach, coughing and gripping the bark of the tree so hard it began to splinter.