Smoke curled off the crushed remains of the monster. Bobby stepped out of the cab, boots hitting cracked stone, wincing slightly as he stretched his sore back.
Betsy purred behind him—runed chrome still glowing faint blue, her engine idling with the same satisfied hum she always made after flattening a deer at 65.
Only this time, the "deer" had thirty eyes and teeth on its stomach.
The survivors—maybe a dozen left—stood frozen in place. Covered in ash, dirt, and blood. One of them dropped his weapon and dropped to one knee.
"An Anchor-Wielder…" he whispered. "A Bound One answered us…"
"That can't be," said another, a woman in torn leather robes. "There were no warnings. No wards were triggered. No Fracture Call was sent."
"Then why is there an Anchor here?" the first man asked, gesturing toward Betsy. "Why did it fall from the sky?"
Bobby stared at them, then at Betsy. Then back at them.
"…Y'all got no clue what a truck is, huh?"
"Nope," Betsy said, appearing in a flicker of light on the cab hood, hands on her hips and lips curled in a smirk. "Congratulations, boss. You're a prophet now."
One of the younger villagers pointed a shaking hand. "It spoke. The Anchor… it has a voice."
Another muttered, "No summoning seal. No ritual circle. He just... willed it down from the sky."
Bobby rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ignore the steady stream of words floating in the corner of his vision.
[SYSTEM NOTICE: Target Eliminated. Anchor Signature Stable.]
[Residual... magical contamination detected nearby. Trail available for cleanup.]
He squinted. "So now it's giving me chores."
"It's not chores," Betsy replied, folding her arms. "It's telling you there's still magical nastiness nearby. Like mold after you kill a rat."
"Then someone else can clean it up. I didn't show up here to do pest control for magical mildew."
[TRANSLATING FOR USER PROFILE: "BOBBY JOE BUCKMAN"]
You ran over the big ugly thing. Good job. But it left behind weird magic gunk in the area. You can ignore it, but if you follow the trail and clean it up, you might get upgrades. Or prevent more bad stuff.
[Would you like to track the trail?]
[Yes/No]
"At least it's tryin'," Bobby muttered. "Still ain't clickin' yes."
He turned and limped toward the front of the truck, where the side of his shirt was hanging on by a thread. Pulling it back, he hissed—a long, nasty scratch ran along his ribs, still bleeding. Probably from one of those tentacles.
A fresh alert popped up.
[SYSTEM TIP: Healing Item Available – First Aid Kit (Basic) – Cost: 50 Stream Energy]
[Current Energy: 400]
He blinked at the glowing text hovering in the air. "Uh. Betsy? Something's tryin' to sell me a medkit in midair."
"Click it."
"What?"
"The glowing thing. Tap it. With your finger."
He reached out like he was poking a microwave for the first time. As soon as his fingertip touched the icon, a blue crate blinked into existence with a hiss and a soft hum.
Bobby jumped back half a step.
"…What in the actual—"
"System delivery," Betsy said, smug. "Ain't Amazon Prime, but it gets the job done."
A few villagers gasped behind him.
"He summons relics from the aether!"
"No chant… no array…"
Bobby crouched, opened the crate, and carefully pulled out the items: gauze, antiseptic spray, and a sealed pill packet. "So what do I do with—?"
"Spray it. Wrap it. Pop the pill."
"That's your professional opinion?"
"I'm a truck, not a doctor—but you're bleeding on my axle zone, so suck it up."
He followed her instructions, wincing as the antiseptic stung, then muttered under his breath while winding the gauze. He swallowed the pill without reading the label.
The relief hit almost instantly.
"…That's... actually kind of nice."
A younger boy stepped forward, wide-eyed.
"You didn't use a Focus Stone…"
Bobby looked up. "I don't even know what that is, son."
"No crystal. No glyph. No magic circle. You just… touched the air and it obeyed."
"I said I don't know what that is," he repeated, louder this time.
The kid backed up, eyes wide like he'd just witnessed forbidden sorcery.
Bobby grumbled and taped down the last corner of the bandage. "Damn fantasy world. I'm gonna need a bigger first aid kit if this is how y'all handle Tuesdays."
Back in the cab, Bobby dropped into his seat with a sigh. Betsy flickered into her usual spot above the dash.
"We're still live, by the way."
"Still what?"
"Stream's still running. Echo Layer feed is online."
Viewer01: how is this guy the main characterViewer02: he ran over a boss with a truck. I'm sold.Viewer03: can I donate to upgrade the horn
Bobby raised an eyebrow. "They're still watching?"
"You've got three loyal fans now. Might not sound like much, but two of them aren't bots."
"Sure. Great. I'll add it to my résumé."
One of the villagers walked forward. Older, beard streaked with ash and blood. He looked like someone who used to be a teacher, or maybe a priest.
"You weren't sent?"
"Nope."
"Then… how did you find us?"
"I didn't," he said simply. "Y'all were gettin' eaten. So I drove. End of story."
The villagers looked around at each other, confused. A few looked toward the sky, where the sickly yellow clouds still swirled above.
someone whispered. "The air's still... off."
Another stepped forward, glancing nervously at the sky. "It always fades when the Fracture ends."
Bobby looked around. Now that they mentioned it… the sky was still gross. The land still crackled with something sour and hot. Like static on the back of his tongue.
"That's what the system was pointing at," Betsy said. "Whatever that thing was, it wasn't working alone. Or it left residue. Either way, the area's still messed up."
"I already killed it," Bobby said.
"And you saved these people. I'm just saying—there might be something else still rotting in the roots."
He grumbled under his breath. "So now I'm a monster exterminator?"
"You are the guy with a six-ton magical battering ram and a system that wants you to kill more things."
He hesitated. Then glanced at the villagers—tired, scared, watching him like he was a god or a weapon.
"Fine," he muttered. "But if something jumps out at me again, I'm running it over in reverse."