Hiro dropped to the ground as the bear-faced gauntlet forming over his hand hacked up a bit of bronze that shot toward Ben. It struck his arm and metastasized, black smoke forming and veins bubbling as Ben’s arm was also covered by the material.

  “What the hell!?” Hiro gasped, gripping his arm as the gauntlet twitched and flexed on its own, the bear’s gaping maw opening and closing like it was breathing.

  Ben staggered back, his helmeted head shifting toward his arm as the bronze spread. He shook his arm violently, but the gauntlet clamped down, the bear’s snarling face forming over his knuckles.

  Then the two gauntlets roared in unison, a description appearing as they settled.

  Roulette Accessory: {Bear Claw}

  Grade: B

  Description: Marcus Aurelius couldn’t wait to share the video on his social media feed.

  In it, he sat in bed, forehead damp with sweat after a morning-wood-induced nightmare. Marcus looked straight into his phone’s camera and began his observation in a deep Cajun accent: “Y’all, trauma don’t wait ‘til the sun’s a-settin’. Naw, that sonofabitch hits you square in the jaw first thang in the mornin’—soon as you open your eyes and remember who the hell you damn well are and how the hell you done got here.”

  Marcus posted it, and immediately got a single like from his girlfriend, followed by a heart emoji. Noo… The realization hit Marcus. It was Valentine’s Day—he’d been so busy thinking up social media content and counting his followers that he’d completely forgotten to get her something!

  Marcus hastily placed his feet on the bearskin rug he’d picked up in the Barbarian Content Creators War as his mind raced with options for his girlfriend. Think, Marcus, think! Okay, okay… Yes. Yes! She likes bears. She likes gloves. She also likes fighting. She likes bears, gloves, and fighting. Yes!

  An idea struck—something last-minute but legendary. All it would take is a little magic, A quick visit to the closest oracle who just so happened to hang out at a dumpster near the Food and Geaux, and a goat sacrifice. Naturally, he’d film the whole process, add some dramatic music, and slap on a title like “Forge the Ultimate Valentine’s Day Gift—What Happens Next Will Shock You.”

  This will be perfect, Marcus thought as he stood there, erection yet again taking shape. I’ll call them, Bear Claws.

  Bear Claws are exactly what they sound like, Survivor. Your hand is now both a fist and a bear’s mouth. It sounds ridiculous because it is, but it’s deadly as hell.

  Ben flexed his fingers, watching the bronze veins pulse beneath the surface of the gauntlet. He gave his arm another shake, the bear’s mouth snapping open and shut like it was testing its own jaw. “Welp, no jerking off this Interim.”

  “Eeewww,” Bianca said, still rocking Mishka. “That is not an image I needed.”

  Hiro looked down at the bear covering his left arm and hand. The face had since retreated somewhat, its snout resting just above his wrist, its open maw framing his knuckles. He flexed his fingers, feeling the strange weight of it, the way the gauntlet seemed to breathe against his skin. He thrust his fist forward on instinct. The bear’s mouth shot outward, tripling in size as it snapped its teeth shut on empty air. “This is fucked.”

  Ben whistled, then did the same, throwing a punch. His bear’s mouth surged forward, biting at the air before retracting like it was on a leash. “Tomato, toe-mato. Another tool in our arsenal, if you ask me. Never had me a weapon that could literally bite back before.” His bear’s jaw snapped shut again. “It’s sort of cool.”

  Hiro exhaled, shaking out his own gauntlet. It wasn’t just a weapon—it wanted to attack. He could feel it urging him forward, like some primal, half-asleep instinct waiting to wake up.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  “Anyway,” Ben continued, unbothered by the new accessory, “I dunno about you, but I got a boatload of followers and soul cash, or whatever. We can either hit a merchant here in Brooklyn, or… Have you visited a merchant yet?”

  “Briefly. Near Midtown.”

  “Did you buy a level?”

  “I did not.”

  “That’s what we should be doing. I’m not gonna lie, that last fight was tough.” Ben knocked on his motorcycle helmet. “It’s telling me that I need to start levelin’ up, and before anywhere near the same level, you probably should too. I ain’t asking here or nothin’, but—”

  “Level Nine,” Hiro said.

  “Level Seven. So you got me there. In that case, let’s head across this here bridge, and hopefully, get over to Manhattan in one piece.” Saliva dripped from his bear gauntlet onto the pavement. Ben looked down at it. “Nope, not gonna let it faze me.”

  ###

  Aside from barcode babies, the Manhattan Bridge was surprisingly quiet, its towering cables and framework casting long, eerie shadows over the path. The relative calm allowed Hiro and Ben to further discuss their experiences with the Doom System, and changes they had already seen in the Second Interim.

  “The advertisements are crazy,” Hiro said, recalling Times Square.

  “I haven’t partook, especially not that bodyguard shit. Got met by one of the Hunters I had a hell of a time with back in the First Interim, this guy with hooked whip-arms with Goodyear Tire-like armor. Couldn’t stab him with my pen, is what I’m saying. But I declined. Ain’t no way I’m teaming up the enemy.”

  “What was your Roulette Skill last Interim?”

  “The one the system gave me allowed me to phase in and out of objects. That’s how I got the bastard in the end. He took off his helmet, was just crouched there looking at something, I phased in behind him and bam, pen to the back of his skull.”

  “The same helmet you’re wearing now?” Hiro asked.

  “Yup. I stashed it away in my spot, which was where I bunkered down at the start of the Second Interim. With my eye sensitivity, it made sense. Nothing else special about it though. You?”

  “I could morph into a werewolf. It wasn’t pleasant.”

  “I’ll bet. It will make the arm easier to manage,” Ben said as he once again examined his bear guantlet.

  “Maybe so.”

  They reached the end of the bridge and Bianca, who had been hunting barcode babies, returned. “That’s what I was telling you about.” Hiro motioned to a roaming pile of objects lurching through the streets below, the amorphous mass of discarded goods grinding together as it moved with an unsettling, almost deliberate will. It heaved forward in fits and starts, sometimes rolling, sometimes dragging itself like a wounded beast, the Doom System’s grotesque interpretation of conspicuous consumption given terrifying, unnatural life.

  “Dang. And if you get caught up in all that?” Ben brought his phone out of his pocket and read the message from his Companion. “Not good, then.”

  “Nope.” Hiro located the first golden beam, an indication of a merchant somewhere near a departmment store from what he could tell. “That’s the closest one.”

  “Then let’s do it and…” Ben shrugged.

  “Yeah?”

  “You know, the merchant I already visited said that we could now use our phones like phones. Heh. Saying it like that sounds stupid. What I’m saying here is use them more like walkie talkies. But he said they all can activate it for the right price. I would have done it, but everyone I know from the First Interim is dead. When them gates opened…” His voice hitched.

  “I lost a few friends then as well,” Hiro said, thinking of Juan and Rena. “Was yours a giant spider?”

  “Sure was. I hit it with a One Hit Wonder called {Goblin Mode}, a last resort sort of thing. The damn spider went crazy and killed itself through all the shit it had attached to its spider body, whatever that’s called. I got lucky as hell that this was how it played out. But…” Ben sighed. “Others were in the way. I mean, they weren’t at first. I would have never used it if that had been the case, but like I said, it went wild, and… anyway. Our phones. All that to say, we should link them.”

  “We absolutely should.”

  Bianca slid onto Hiro’s shoulder. “So we can start texting again?” she asked. She quickly examined her fuzzy tentacle arms. “I don’t know how useful these will be with a phone screen. Ugh. Shitty shield body. I was such a fast texter.”

  “Would it allow us to text?” Hiro asked Ben, who had just been looking at his bear gauntlet.

  “Nope, just works like a walkie talkie.” He showed Hiro the gauntlet, the bear’s teeth snapping. “It might be hard to text with this one, anyway.”

  “But we could get a network going.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking. Fight fire with… the fire given to us by the firestarter,” Ben said with a grim smile.

  “I know two others,” Hiro said, thinking of Valeria and Sam. “They would be good to link up with.” While Hiro had left on somewhat bad terms with Valeria, he had a feeling Sam had calmed her down by now. He turned back toward the golden beacon, the path through the streets now clear now that the roaming pile of trash had moved on. The ruins of post-apocalyptic New York stretched before him—crumbling skyscrapers jutting into the sky like broken teeth, streets littered with abandoned vehicles rusted in place, and flickering neon signs illuminating pockets of the gloom. “Let’s see what the merchant has to offer.”