"Uh, Boss?" Sal whispered, his voice cracking. He was looking at the heat lamp. "Are those... Buffalo wings?"

  Stephen didn't look up from the barcode scanner he was cleaning with a rag. "Eight for sixteen stones. Bone in only."

  Sal didn't wait for a second invitation and moved with a desperate hunger toward the back of the store. I watched him grab a giant cardboard bucket and a pair of tongs, his eyes wide as he approached the slurpee machine. He began layering blue and green ice, the mechanical whir of the machine the only sound in the store besides the jazz playing over the speakers.

  I stayed where I was. My hand didn't leave the hilt of my Verdant Jade sword.

  Stephen finally looked at me. "You getting something, or just standing in my light?"

  "I’m not hungry," I said.

  Stephen set the scanner down on the counter and leaned back, crossing his arms over his vest. He looked like he was waiting for a bus that was three hours late.

  I felt a surge of irritation. I was a Sprout Stage cultivator. I had killed countless monsters with a flick of my wrist. I had survived a war with a superpower. And this clerk was treating me like a teenager loitering in the parking lot.

  I stepped forward, the floor tiles clicking under my boots and I drew my sword, leveling the point at Stephen’s throat.

  "If that food is poison," I snarled, "you will pay dearly."

  Stephen looked at the blade, then back at me. "Produce isn't in my job description. Take it up with corporate."

  Suddenly, the floor beneath my feet ceased to exist.

  I plummeted and my stomach lurched into my throat as the lights of the mart vanished, replaced by an abyss.

  Reflex saved me as I had slammed my sword horizontally, the jade blade biting into the edge of a solid tile. I dangled there, my legs kicking into an infinite void. I looked down, and my blood turned to ice. There was no bottom or ground. Just a darkness that felt like it went to the center of the earth.

  Above me, Sal was still at the wing station, humming to himself as he shook a bottle of ranch dressing. He hadn't noticed a thing.

  Stephen leaned over the counter, peering down at me with a disinterested expression.

  "In this store, I am God," Stephen said. His voice was lacking any boastful heat, which made it a thousand times more terrifying. "Everything in here is my domain. The air you breathe, the gravity holding you up, the heart in your chest—I own the lease on all of it. If I wanted to kill you or your friend, I would have done it when you touched my door handle."

  I looked up at him, my knuckles tight as I gripped the hilt of my sword and I felt my Dao of Growth pulsing, trying to knit my strength together, but it felt muffled and distant.

  "Not even your little plant tricks can save you in here," Stephen continued. "I can aim right for the heart. I won't give you the chance to regrow."

  I realized with terror that he was a mirror that had the same absolute authority over this square footage that I had over my backyard. I was a Heavenly Gardener; he was a Heavenly Manager.

  "I... I apologize," I wheezed. "Bring me up. Please."

  The tile reappeared instantly and I scrambled onto the solid floor, sheathing my sword with shaking hands. I stood up, smoothing my clothes, trying to find a shred of the 'President' persona I had been building.

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  "How?" I asked, my voice still thin. "How have you survived out here?"

  "I was on my break when it happened," Stephen said. "Manager of this branch pre-Collapse. The System gave me the Apocalyptic Bodega path and I’ve been here ever since. If I leave the store, I'm just a guy in a vest. But as long as I'm in here, I'm the judge, jury, and executioner."

  I smiled. He is lying about being totally powerless outside—it's likely just a heavy nerf. Just like I found a way to export my power via weapons/armor, Stephen probably has "Delivery Boy" mechanics or "Franchise" skills. The System is predictable. He is intentionally downplaying his abilities to me to lower my guard.

  I looked around the shelves. Everything was so pristine. "We built a settlement directly outside here and thought this place was abandoned so we came to loot. I hope you don't mind"

  "Looting carries a heavy surcharge," Stephen muttered. "I do not mind paying customers however. One can never go wrong with more customers."

  "More?" I asked. "You mean the ragged locals?"

  Stephen gave a snort. "No, I mean the inhabitants of the various settlements and even a couple of the larger factions.

  “Factions?” I responded. “In the Wilds?”

  “You thought factions only existed inside your safe zones?” said Stephen. “There are a hundred times more people outside those walls than inside. The real monsters are out here.”

  My skin crawled. I had seen the Wilds as a playground—a blank canvas for me to expand upon. But if there were organized powers out here, powers so close to Southfield, with law and order... then Rushfall is no anomaly but an insignificant singularity.

  Sal walked back to the counter, his face glowing with grease. He had a bucket of wings in one hand and a tall slurpee in the other.

  Stephen raised the scanner.

  Sal’s phone chimed in his pocket and he pulled it out and laughed. "Twenty-five stones! That’s cheaper than the food court at home! Boss, we gotta come here every Friday."

  The moment the transaction cleared, the automatic doors opened. I turned back to ask him about the factions he deals with, but the space behind the counter was empty.

  "Let’s go, Sal," I said, my voice urgent.

  We stepped back outside. Behind us, the 24/7 Mart looked like a rusted shell again.

  I headed to the Town Hall and held a debriefing.

  "The gas station is occupied," I told the gathered settlers. "By an independent power named Stephen. However, he isn't a threat as long as you pay your tab, and do not—under any circumstances—attempt to loot the store. He is a potential ally so treat him with respect."

  I left them to their work and slept for a couple hours in one of the new residences that were built. At dawn, we continued.

  The walk to Adam was twelve hours of grueling labor. Every mile, we anchored the Green Corridor into the bedrock.

  When Adam finally appeared on the horizon, I stopped.

  The colony I had left was a mining camp. The city I was looking at was a fortress. The buildings were higher, the watchtowers sturdier, and the square was bustling.

  Mayah met us at the gate.

  "Adam has grown, Mr. President," she said, a smirk playing on her lips.

  "Thirty-five thousand," She whispered, looking at the crowds moving through the streets.

  "How?" I said.

  "I did what you told me to do," Mayah said. "I sent scouts into the Wilds and I found the diamonds in the rough. Or rather the Wilds. The professionals, the specialists, the elite who were living amongst the savages."

  “Savages?” I said to myself rolling my eyes. “Just a year or so ago Mayah was a savage. She has completely forgotten where she has come from.”

  I looked at the massive population of savages and an idea took root.

  "Sal," I said. "Start the foundation for a Supermarket. Right here in the center of the city."

  "Another one?" Sal asked.

  "Yes," I said, turning to Mayah. "Listen to me. Seaside, White Hill, The Cove... they are all fighting for the top one percent. They want the rich, the elite, the cultivators with the biggest auras. They want the 'High Impact' zones. They’re fighting over the penthouse and ignoring the rest of the building."

  I pointed to the thousands of people in the streets of Adam—ordinary people with dirty faces and calloused hands.

  "Eden will be the nation for the other ninety nine percent. We are the Bargain store of the apocalypse. We will provide the standard of living. Cheap, stat boosting food, furniture that doesn't break, walls that don't fall, and clean water for all. If you live under the Eden flag, you don't freeze nor starve."

  I looked at the Green Corridor stretching back toward Southfield.

  "We don't need their elites," I said. "We have the labor, the mines and the food."

  "Route One is complete," I whispered. "The Green Corridor is open. Now, let’s see what the elite do when they realize the middle class has returned."