Monroe

Chapter Three Hundred and Sixteen. R-Day.

Bob woke up to darkness. The entire group had agreed that no one wanted to run that Dungeon again, so they'd headed home. The hours spent in the Dungeon, plus the trip home had put everyone at close to twenty-four hours on the hoof. Bob had hoped that exhaustion would have allowed him to sleep until dawn, but dawn was still a couple of hours away.

He found Mike relaxing in a chair, a cup of coffee in his hand as he looked up at the stars.

"Morning," Bob greeted the former detective quietly, pushing his mana into the pattern for a persistent effect wrapped summon mana-infused object spell.

"Thirty-three hour days are hard to get used to," Mike grumbled, then shook his head. "Not as hard as they should be though. Something I've noticed is that now that I'm a real tier six, or mostly, I'm somehow more than I was before. Beyond the increased size and being young again." He shook his head again. "We haven't had meeting, but I've talked to everyone, and they feel it too."

"From what I understand, that's to be expected," Bob replied. "It's one of the reasons I've spent so much time using that 'Return to the Beginning' blessing. I didn't like feeling like I was better than the people around me."

Mike snorted. "I get it now. Before, I couldn't understand why you were playing at a handicap, but I get it now." He sighed. "It makes me wonder what we'll be like at tier eight? Or hell, tier ten? How disconnected from humanity will we be?"

"I think that the reason the King of Greenwold spends his time in a lower tier form is to keep in touch with his kingdom," Bob said. "The same thing with Yorrick, who I'm pretty sure is a demon of some sort. They deliberately weaken themselves so they don't lose sight of the people they've taken responsibility for."

"You know what today is, right?" Jessica's voice was quiet as she pulled a folding chair out of her inventory and sat down next to Bob.

"Yeah," Bob nodded.

"How bad do you think it'll be?" She asked.

"I'm going to say that big cities, especially coastal cities, are going to be rubble," Bob replied.

"Rural areas should be better," Mike added. "The thing with cities like New York is that they've got what, eight million people packed into three hundred square miles? When everything gets knocked down, you've got eight million people trying to occupy that space. Out in the country, you knock down all the buildings within three hundred square miles, and its both easier to clean up, and you don't have people stacked on top of each other."

"They're not going to be able to move everyone back at once though, yeah? The PM said it'd probably take half again as long as to get everyone back as it did to get them away," Jessica shook her head.

"I have to keep reminding myself that it's not my problem," Bob admitted. "There's a part of me that wants to load up the Freedom and hop back over to help."

Jessica leaned over and gently tapped his nose with her finger. "Bad Bob," she admonished, "the governments of the world have their plans in place to handle the return."

"I'd like to think that I'm as civic minded as the next guy," Mike added, "but she's right. Let the people who were paid to do the job, do the job. We've got our own troubles."

"Why is it still dark out? Why am I awake?" Amanda complained quietly, summoning a loveseat with summon mana-infused object, and curling up next to Dave when he sat down.

"Because you already slept for eight hours, and if you sleep any longer, you'll be out of sorts," Dave replied gently.

"When it comes to mornings, she's never been super keen," Jessica whispered loudly.

"Shut up, too early," Amanda groaned. "Coffee?"

"How do you not keep coffee in your inventory?" Mike asked, pulling out a black and decker coffee maker and a power station. He plugged in the coffee maker, and poured a pot full of water down the back.

"No space," she grunted then tilted her head, lifting her face away from Dave's shoulder as the smell of freshly brewing coffee reached her.

"How can you not have space?" Mike asked.

"Clothes," Dave replied with a shake of his head. "So many clothes."

"I don't know how quickly the fashion industry is going to recover, so I had to stock up before we left," Amanda replied, now sitting upright, her eyes focused on the coffee pot. "I respect the need for armor, and I know Nikki and Gary did the best they could, but still," she shook her head. "I think Jessi is the only one here who understands just how important the advancement in bra technology has been for us."

"I agree," Bailli said as she took a seat with the rest of the group. "That advertisement, the one that said taking off your bra won't be the best part of your day anymore? Very true. I purchased a large supply myself."

Erick, Eddi, Wayna, Harv and Elli joined the group over the next few moments.

"So, another Dungeon today?" Eddi said eagerly, helping himself to a cup of coffee after waiting patiently for Amanda to fill her mug.

"We've got the one a couple of hundred miles to the East," Bob suggested. "Nice and close."

"Also, probably not a frozen hellscape," Elli added.

Elania Hartford, President of the United States of America, had been living her dream. She was, arguably, the most powerful person in the world.

Then Robert Whitman had radically altered her world view. It had taken a few months, and more than a few demonstrations before she was able to accept that what she had wasn't real power, it was perceived power. She'd never taken a firm stance on the second amendment, preferring a more moderate approach than the rest of her party, which was, of course, still a bit too far for the other side of the aisle. She'd worked on enough legislation to have heard the famous quote that 'God created all men, Sam Colt made them equal,' and she'd always been disquieted by it. She'd recently overheard one of the Old Guard reiterate that quote, substituting Sam Colt with the System.

All political power grows from the barrel of a gun. Another quote she'd never liked, but another one she'd also had to admit held more than a kernel of truth. The problem was that the System was ubiquitously available to all, even the type of people that the most ardent of second amendment supporters would agree shouldn't have a weapon. What was worse, was that the calibre of the weapon was only restricted by the work ethic of the wielder.

She'd spent the past three and a half months delving the Dungeons in Glacier Valley. She'd reincarnated, then started leveling all over again. She was level thirty-five, only one level away from her tier cap, but she had a feeling she wouldn't be seeing the inside of a Dungeon for quite a while.

Today was the day that the Tide should have receded on Earth. It was time to go back home and see just how bad things had gotten during the three and a half months they'd been taking refuge on Thayland.

She'd seen a level sixty tier eight monters, and if there had been a horde of those things stomping around for months, rebuilding was going to be herculean task. She'd negotiated with the King of Greenwold to pull ten thousand people out of stasis two months early, with the agreement that they would take paths that lent themselves toward construction. She'd sorted through the database and chosen tradesmen and civil engineers with families. The offer she'd made them was Affinity Crystals for them, and priority for their families, once they'd repaired, or more likely, rebuilt, a city to house them.

The problem was the crystals. Bob's sixth rule, the one about never having enough crystals was true, and it was a bitter pill. She needed to have people delving for crystals to give to the construction teams so they could keep rebuilding, so they could pull more people out of stasis and bring them back home. She also needed to have law enforcement delving for the purposes of leveling up to keep the less civic minded portion of the populace in line. Those people, the anarchists, the criminals, sovereign citizens, they'd focus on leveling up, increasing their power. They wouldn't be contributing any crystals to rebuilding the nation.

That was one headache.

Another was the people who'd been in the Karcerian Empire for the past several months. They hadn't gone into stasis, instead leveling, increasing their tier, and stockpiling crystals for when they returned home. The Empire had volunteered to send them back, which meant that except for the groups who volunteered the information, she had no clue where they were going to be.

She was also aware that every other nation was facing the same issues. The next few months would serve as a referendum for the governments of Earth. It would almost certainly be the final chapter of her political career, and she was determined to go down in history as the President who shepherded the nation through the apocalypse.

Elania shook her head. It was hard to focus when you were just waiting, especially when today was the day she'd been waiting for and working toward.

She stood up as Kellan entered the room. "Your Majesty," she dipped her head respectfully.

She might not always like the King of Greenwold, but she respected him. His deft handling of the High Priest from the next planet over had forced her to reconsider her perception of him. Kellan had laid the groundwork for that eventuality centuries ago.

"Madam President," Kellan replied, his face solemn. "As I suspected, even a tier eight dimensionalist is unable to reach Earth," he shook his head, "however, a dozen of them working together succeeded. This means that transporting your people home is going to take longer than our worst case scenarios. I'm loathe to suggest it, but once the Empire done returning your people to Earth, you may wish to negotiate with them for their aid."

"How long will it take to get things started?" She asked.

"Once we had the portal open, we sent a team through to build the Anchor," Kellan replied. "Once the Dimensional Anchor is in place and active, we can open a much larger portal and start moving your people through. I expect that we'll be able to begin in another three hours."

He smiled and laid a hand on her shoulder. "While you've been wonderful guests, I know how you must yearn for your home. Today, you'll return."

Yorrick leaned against the crenelations of the tower and looked out over the city with a smile.

It wasn't large when compared to Karce, barely more than ten square miles, but it was built with the combined experience of the Karcerian Empire, and the depth of knowledge offered by Earth and some of its finest civil engineers.

The walls soared a hundred feet into the sky, and although it wasn't visible, were sunk two hundred feet into the soil, resting on bedrock. They offered protection from the worst that a tide could throw against them.

The boulevards that ran in neat, even lines from the wall to the tower in the center were broader than he'd expected, but the city planners had shown him the math for how much space was needed for a given number of people to travel the streets without crowding each other to the degree that it slowed everyone else down.

They'd then recalculated those numbers when he asked about higher tier individuals. The boulevards were now separated into eight separate lanes, four going in either direction. The first, and smallest, was for tier five humans. The second, slightly wider, was for tier six individuals, then another for tier seven. The final lane was equal to the previous three combined, and was meant for groups and vehicles. Each was separated by a narrow strip of soil, which they'd called a median, where shade trees had been grown.

The buildings, which reached slightly above the walls, all sported tall columns of green, verticle planters, spaced to ensure that they didn't present a solid wall and maximizing the sunlight received by each. The construction crews had actually been complaining about the fruit and vegetables that they'd had to clean up.

In retrospect, they could have held off growing those until today, a mistake they hadn't made with the other six sister cities.

Yorrick could see people rushing down the boulevards now, looking the maps in their hands that also held their housing assignments. The city had been designed to hold five hundred thousand people, but it would begin with one percent of that.

He knew that Kar'Noct would fill up quickly as Earth's refugees returned to find their world changed. They would gather to take shelter under the Empire's blackened wings, and Yorrick's Aegis.

He couldn't help but laugh. "Mor'Noctum bless you, Bob, wherever you are," he pulled a flask from his belt and saluted the sky before taking a long drink. He'd never imagined that he'd see the day when the Empire was finally free of the threat posed by Parceus. In the end it had all come down to one man and his determination to rescue his cat.

Queen Elizabeth shook her head as she looked at what was left of London.

"Well, I suppose this affords us the opportunity to repair the streets," Charles murmured from her side.

She fought back a smile. Charles had always been able to lift her spirits.

The only thing standing more than a single story in height were the piles of rubble.

"We will have our vanguard attend to the museums and libraries immediately," she decided. "We must rescue what can be salvaged, with the knowledge that anything damaged after the System integration can be returned to it's state at that time with a repair ritual. Once we've saved our heritage, we can begin repairing homes and buildings."

"I don't suppose we can accidently fail to complete the ritual for the Walkie Talkie?" Charles asked.

Elizabeth didn't suppress her smile this time.

Thidwell shook his head. "We shouldn't be sending anyone to Glacier Valley," he rumbled. "Holmstead is thriving, but it's doing so because of our people and our infrastructure. Glacier Valley has a degree of infrastructure as well, but lacks the human resources we've cultivated. If we need more housing, then let's build more housing."

Kelli nodded, tapping his tablet.

"The Adventurers Academy is doing well, those 'virtual lectures' Bob recorded for us are drawing freshers in, and they're sticking around," Kelli reported. "Casualties in the Dungeon are below one percent for graduates of the Academy."

"It looks like we are going to lose less than a hundred people back to Earth," Kelli continued. "We have almost a thousand that plan to visit, but they've declared that this is there home now."

"Any word from Bob?" Thidwell asked.

"No," Kelli shook his head. "He and his friends are still missing."

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