A Gamer's Guide To Beating The Tutorial

By the time the ambulance arrives, Moleman has snapped out of it—mostly, I think. He healed Mitt, helped get the kids into the ambulance, and then… Well, I thought that since we found them and the kids were clearly in shock, Moleman might want to come with them to the hospital. But he looked at me like I was crazy, told me that we still had like a dozen houses left to visit, and… Sure, that’s true, but…

No buts. We continued. Moleman seemed like himself. Too much so.

The rest of the houses went okay. We found a dead body in one, but Moleman didn’t react as badly. Maybe it was the putrefaction, not the actual being-a-dead-body thing? Unsure. I want to ask him, but I don’t think this is the right time, and, honestly… I don’t think there will ever be a right time.

We returned to the hospital at around noon, at which point Moleman, without taking a single break, went straight to do another round through the hospital, healing patients again. I want to admire his fighting spirit, but I’m starting to question if it’s actually a strength to begin with.

Mitt and her brother had apparently been lucky enough to get their own room, which we visited. The toddler didn’t make the ride there. Moleman didn’t seem to mind. He smiled at them and made jokes and healed them and then we left the room.

“Midnight,” I mumble. Moleman keeps walking, smiling lightly. I clench my hands into fists. A little louder, I say, again, “Midnight. He’ll be gone by—”

“I know!” His fiery eyes turn to me. “I know. I get it. You don’t need to tell me every time. Or do you want me to—to…” His smile grows tighter, thinner; downright strained. “Just write it down and hand it to Benevil later. I don’t want to… I don’t need to know. Can’t you do that much, Kitty?”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I was only…” I don’t know what I was only anymore, so I hold my tongue. “Sorry.”

“Sometimes, you can be so…” He draws a sharp breath. “No, nothing. Nothing. Let’s keep going. We still have people to heal.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

We continue. Noon rolls into evening and for the first time in hours, Moleman pauses—though only to skim through a personal message asking when he’ll be home for dinner. He writes something quick and then sends it off. I glance at the time.

<18:20:11

Day 1 007>

14:03:39:49>

Yeah, it’s dinner time alright. Well, if it’s time to go home, then I guess it’s about time to wash up and change out of this apron.

“What are you doing?” Moleman asks.

I pause, the loop of my apron halfway over my head. “I’m, uh… Getting ready to go home for dinner?” He gives me a strange look. “That… that is what we’re doing, isn’t it?”

His face twitches down into a frown, and all of a sudden he looks so confused that I can’t help but feel a twinge of shame. But then he catches himself and looks down at his own feet, brow furrowing at himself, not at me, as though his own actions have left him speechless. He shakes his head, lifting his head to face me again. He looks strangely mournful. “I’m sorry, I was… I told them I can’t make it, there’s so much work, and if something happens, we really need one of us to be here, and I’m the leader, so…” He wrings his hands. “If you want, I can tell them that you’ll come on your own.” A smile wiggles its way onto his face, but his eyes still look weary. “Don’t worry—they’re nice. I know they’ve been a bit withdrawn today, but if you get to know them a bit, then…”

“No—no,” I say. Shoot. I do not like this. I mean, look at him! He’s barely staying on his feet, and his face is almost worse off than the patients. Oh, and I saw him sneakily using healing spells on himself, just to keep moving. He needs to get some rest—some proper food and good company. He needs… He needs someone to talk to about what happened today—someone who isn’t me. “Moleman, I really think you should—”

He stares at me. In the evening darkness, with the cramped room lit by only the glowing disk of magical light he summoned, I can only barely see his eyes—his strained, desperate smile. “What is it, Kitty?”

I shrink back a little. “No, it’s… It’s nothing.” I try to smile, but I can’t match it to whatever it is he’s wearing, so I have no idea if that’s the expression I’m actually making. My hand is trembling, so I grip it hard, my claws sinking a little into my skin. “I’ll stay here. You can tell them I won’t be coming either.” There’s a chuckle, and I realize after a moment that it’s mine. “I mean, what would I even say to them? ‘Ah, yeah, sorry, your friend couldn’t make it, so you’ll have to make do with—”

He hugs me. Tightly. Even with only one arm, he holds me tight enough to almost choke the air out of me. “Thank you,” I hear him whisper. He draws out again, wiping his face with his shoulder. His voice is heavy and quivering as he says, “Thank you. It means… It means a lot.” He pats my shoulder affectionately. “I’m glad to know you.”

And still, somehow, for some reason, it feels like I chose the wrong dialogue option.

So, as expected, we worked through the evening. We did take a dinner break, spent in the small scrub we call the break room. It consisted of sandwiches, fruit, and a muffin each. Somehow, despite being so quaint and calming, it didn’t shake the feeling that something was off. We continued working into the night, also healing the patients Jazz took care of earlier in the day. They were happy to see him, unless they were asleep, in which case the gentle magic let them sleep just a smidge easier.

Towards nine in the evening, we meet the last patient for me to tally. They, much like most of the people in the building, have pretty good chances of surviving; and with their symptoms mild and the infection abating, Moleman allows me the pleasure of telling them that if they keep this up, they’ll be fully recovered in a week or so. And same as the other times I’ve done this, the patient beams up, and Moleman smiles, the shadows banished from his face for the coming… five minutes or so. Then, we’ll meet the next patient and his disposition will fall again. As it has done all the other times.

We leave the patient, and I write the time until recovery into the draft in my messages. Moleman sent me the full patient list earlier in a message, which I’ve been annotating for the past day. Looks good! I turn to Moleman where we walk in the hallway. “So, what do I do now? Do I just send it to you, or…?”

He twitches. “Yeah, send it to me and I’ll forward it to my party.” And there it is—that shadow’s over his face again. Didn’t even take a minute. Damn it. Completely subconsciously, he begins to quicken his pace a bit. “We should really inform Benevil somehow… I didn’t even tell him we’re doing this… If only I’d seen him sometime during the day, but he seems to have been busy with other patients, so…”

I sniff the air. “He’s in his office right now. Maybe we could…” No, wrong option—his lip’s trembling. I backtrack mentally. “But you still have patients, and… And I’ve done my work, technically speaking,” after all, there’s nothing else he lets me do, “so, if you want…” I frown a bit. I have no idea if this is okay according to those rules Moleman told me. “I could go there myself, tell him in person… Or, I guess, write it down in person.”

Moleman nods absently. “That would be good, yeah. Even if something happens, I can just send you a message, so there’s no issue there,” he mutters thoughtfully. He slows to a stop in the middle of the hallway, turning around to face me. “You’ll be okay, right?”

“Of course,” I say, even though it feels like he’s fussing a bit too much. It’s not like he’ll kill me or anything. At least, I think so… I shoot him an uncertain look. “Will you?”

The question takes him aback. “Absolutely,” he says, and he almost seems as though he wants to ask why I think he wouldn’t be, but in the end, he keeps his silence. “And, I, uh… Benevil’s office is down the hall, to the right, and…” I catch his gaze. He chuckles weakly. “And—you knew that already. Of course. Sorry, I’m…” He steps backwards, away. “Good luck, Kitty. Try not to… I don’t know. I’m just…”

I lean in and pat him on the shoulder. “I’ll be back shortly, don’t you worry.”

He smiles meekly. “Yeah. Alright.”

I leave him. It takes a moment for him to turn his back on me to leave as well. Soon, the light of his magic fades into the hallway, and I’m left in shadow. Sighing lightly, I head towards Benevil’s office. Now, the silence feels suffocating. Even though Moleman and I didn’t talk all the time, the silence still didn’t come across as true silence. Not like this.

I’m alone.

As I walk, my bare feet make no sound against the wooden floor. My skin doesn’t smell like anything. When I glance into a passing window—at my faint, dark reflection—even though I’m looking right at me, I can barely see myself. My body is nothing but a murky outline, the features of my face shadowy and twisted—save for my eyes. But even they don’t feel quite there. It’s like I’m not entirely real.

But Moleman can see me. He looks straight at me, into my eyes, without a shadow of fear. Now, though… It’s less that the silence and darkness surround me, and more so that I’m melding back into it.

I’m nothing.

I continue walking. Down the end of a hallway, I find Benevil’s office. I lift my hand to rap at it, only for a voice to come from the other side, saying, “Come on in, Kitty!”

I enter.