I awoke to sunlight streaming through the window. Looking around it took me a second to get situated. Last night I dreamed that I was back in my house and that the events of last night never occurred. Even while I dreamed of the comfortable delusion, a part of me knew it was fake. My family’s house was in ruins along with my neighbors, a rift has ripped the sky asunder and my vision was populated with screens of this system whatever it was.

  Reaching up I rubbed my eyes, freeing them from the grips of sleep. Slowly I began to sit up and look around. The [Louisville Slugger] lent up against the nightstand diligently waiting. As I began to fully get up I heard the frantic stirring of people below. Standing up I approached the window. Looking through it I saw the bustle of my neighbors moving around holding bowls of breakfast. I knew the scouting party had been sent out yesterday evening, and that probably explained the view that people I knew didn't live in our neighborhood or the immediate surrounding ones, although they numbered few from what I saw. Not even a tenth of the population of Cave City were arrayed out in the lawn or the street.

  Sighing, I quickly changed into a new change of clothes, as my current ones were filthy with sweat and ash. I grabbed the baseball bat before making my way to the door, opening it slowly. I was greeted by the sight of Mrs. Johnson holding their toddler. Smiling at her, I closed my door behind me, making my way towards the stairs at the end of the hallway.

  "Good Morning, Kien," she greeted, her smile settling in the grooves of her face, her smile always shining.

  "Good morning to you too, Mrs. Johnson," I responded before looking at the toddler. Who smiled back at me in his mother's arms.

  "Good morning to you, Ryan," I greeted the toddler. Mrs. Johnson smiled before continuing down the stairway.

  "Where Dada?" Ryan asked his mom.

  "He's downstairs in the yard; we're going to see him right now, Baby," Mrs. Johnson replied. I smiled at the pair, it was comforting seeing their normal conversation. As we made it to the bottom floor, Mrs. Johnson distracted Ryan as she made her way to the front door. While the wounded still made for a grim sight, many looked better than they did yesterday. I saw Mrs. Gonzalez bustling around them, she was in her sixties and a retired nurse but still spry and agile by the look of it. However I also took note of thick bags under her eyes that showed she had either gotten little to no sleep caring for her patients.

  "Hey, Mrs Gonzalez, do you need any help?" I asked her, she looked up at me and gave a small smile before walking over to a patient.

  "Nice to see Kien, well I am busy unless you chose the [Apothecary's Apprentice] I can't accept, while I don't know about this System sense this class stuff helps out massively with preparing medicine," she said while she checked who I recognized as Mr. Smith’s bandages.

  Smiling at her, I responded, "No, I didn't choose the [Apothecary's Apprentice] Class—" but then Mrs. Gonzalez cut me off.

  "I hate to be rude, but I am busy Kien, and you don't have the class thingy, and I already have two assistants who are helping me," she said, measuring out a length of gauze.

  "I know, but the Class I chose allows me to know how to do maintenance on gear and apparel and repair a little bit in process," I responded; she looked at me for a second before she looked at the length of the gauze and cut it before fully turning to me.

  "I'll keep that in mind but you sound like you'd be more useful to those outside Mr. Welton has some stuff that could be cleaned up and I'm also sure the Search Team won't mind you cleaning up their stuff of ash and soot, so thank you for the offer but shoo," she said returning to care for Mr. Smith.

  Waving, I made my way out to the front yard, and after I walked out on the porch, I saw a small gathering of around 20-30 people. There was a tent with a few tables out underneath it with a few jugs of water, some food, and a small pile of clothes. Walking up to the pot of porridge, I grabbed a bowl. I poured myself a bowl, and after grabbing a spoon, I walked over to the porch steps, sat down, and began to eat.

  After some time one of the search party members sat down. Looking over at him, I knew he moved to Kentucky recently, so I didn't know much about Mr. Jones. He was 6 '3 and talked with a light accent.

  "How did the search party go Mr. Jones?" I asked him. He looked over at me clearly not recognizing me.

  "It went well especially after I got the [Scouting Initiate] class. It gives a sixth sense for useful stuff, and forgive me but your name is..." He led on, waiting for me to answer.

  "Ah, yeah, my name is Kien, Kien Noble," I said with a flash of recognition in his eyes as I said my last.

  "Ah, you're the Park Rangers Kid. I'm sorry to say, but we didn't see him," he responded, returning to his food. I remembered Mrs Gonzalez's recommendation to help the search party.

  "I was wondering if you or any of the other search party people had any gear you needed cleaning?" I asked him.

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  He took a chew and swallowed thoughtfully before responding.

  "We could mainly wash and stitch clothes; we found guns, but all the ammo exploded at the same time the electricity did, so all we have is knives and a few gardening tools." He said, and after taking another bite he continued.

  "You have a class related to it, right, 'cause right now we're trying to get people to level skills. I know it's risky going along with this game thingy, but we do need the help right now" He said as I locked eyes with him.

  "Yeah, I have a class skill [Arms Maintenance] that makes it so I know how to do maintenance on basic gear and repairs minor scratches and stuff," I responded.

  He nodded his head and started to say, "Alright then, I'll go tell the other guys, and I think Mr. Welton, or is it Mr. Welson, has a water basin to do laundry and the like." He took a couple bites and finished off his bowl before he stood up, nodded to me, and made his way over to the group where Mr Johnson and Mr. Brown were.

  ...

  An hour later, I had rolled up myself and started to do the whole group's laundry and let me tell you, washing stuff by hand was terrible, but with my skill, I was the best at it. I had noticed any faded clothes or jeans regained small amounts of their original color after I had washed them. Whilst I had washed them I also separated them if they had holes or loose strings so that I could repair them later.

  After I had gotten through half the laundry I received a Notification from the System.

  …

  [Alert!]

  Your skill-[Arm’s Maintenance] has gained Experience.

  Skill Xp: 10%

  …

  So it did help me out for my current task so I carried on. The skill helped me out in regards to speed too, as the Ash and Soot came off way easier when I did it versus someone else and I soon had a helper to string them up to dry, Mr. Brown's son Jack became my helper as he was tall enough to string them up and hadn't been able to pick a class, locked out by the system until he reached a chronological age of 16. He and I finished washing them by noon. Mr. Welton came by briefly and congratulated us with some of his hidden stash of cookies.

  Smiling, I went over to the tent where Mrs. Smith helped make a sandwich spread. I made myself a PB&J sandwich, biting down. I ate the sandwich in relish as I didn't realize how much I had burnt off washing clothes. Mrs Johnson soon came out of the house with a jar of lemonade from some powder they had found in the wreckage. While it wasn't ice cold it was still divine. Soon my helper Jack went to help someone else as I began to clean some of the knives and goggles for the search party.

  I soon finished the cleaning part when my skill whispered to me as I went to find a proper rock. It took a while to find a rough and flat rock. It took me fifteen minutes to find a suitable one. Then I asked around and found some mineral oil that the Old Man had stashed away in the basement. Going down there I saw him tinkering with some of his antiques.

  My mind flashed back to the fact he had a rare class [Antique Collector]. As I stepped on a squeaky stair as I was entering the Basement he looked up for a second and saw me.

  "If you're looking for more cookies, you're fresh outta luck," he said, returning to polishing an ornate wooden table.

  "No, I didn't come here to take your cookies, Old Man; I came down here to get some mineral oil to sharpen some knives," I said, finishing my descent down the ladder.

  He looked up and pointed to a cupboard on a wall opposite the staircase. "It's in there," he said.

  Nodding, I made my way towards it weaving around the furniture.

  "How are you liking your class?" I asked him as he moved on to a grandfather clock.

  "It's amazing. It gives me an in-depth explanation of everything. A hundred years or older background stories, and a good chunk of them have abilities like that Baseball you got, mind ya. They're not that useful right now, but still, it's nice," he said, smiling at his precious items.

  As I grabbed the Mineral from the cupboard and began to make my way back to the stairs the Old Man asked me a question.

  "What class did ya pick, Laundry Maid or Chore Master," he asked, looking at me a shit-eating grin splitting his face .

  "Neither of those two I chose [Squire] jackass. It gives me knowledge on how to fix things, basically," I said as I walked up the stairs and waved goodbye before walking back up the stairs. As I went to close the door, I heard the mutter, 'Same thing,' probably knowing I would hear him.

  I quickly cleared the makeshift medical area and back to my little station in the yard.

  Weaving between people sorting through the newest haul of stuff I arrived at the area where the knives were. Thankfully Mrs. Johnson took up the task to watch the kids, sitting criss-cross applesauce. I began to apply the mineral oil to the stone. Then I grabbed the first knife, a repurposed chef's knife. My skill guided me softly as I started pulling the knife edge along the flattest area of the makeshift whetstone.

  Eventually, after my 3rd knife, the skill stopped whispering to me, and I saw notification.

  ...

  [Alert!]

  Your skill [Arm’s Maintenance] has leveled up!

  …

  -Arm’s Maintenance

  Skill Level 2 | Skill Xp: 0%

  Level 2 Augmentation: After using this skill to help salvage/repair scavenged apparel and weapons this skill grants its user an increased ability to maintain damaged tools and equipment.

  …

  The revelation about skill levels granting additional abilities related to how you use them was massive. It would encourage specialization over generalization for sure. Right now depending on the strength of the effect it would be massively helpful. Although more so the knowledge from it would be more valuable so I stood up from the spot where the newly shined knives gleamed on the ground, and then I moved towards Mr. Johnson.

  “Hey, Mr. Johnson I got a system message!” I said and the tall blonde family man turned search party leader turned towards a tired smile on his face.