FSE

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The boss stood alone in a room that afternoon with various guns lining the walls and several large boxes of ammunition. They kept their stash by the city's east end, miles away from the entrance, to reduce the chance of anyone breaking into it.

He was in deep thought about the base. His men weren't equipped to go up against a small army, but today's scouting proved effective and had given him an idea. The three he'd sent on the mission reported countless bodies in front of all the base's entrances, implying a large-scale attack from the infected. That could be used to their advantage if carried out properly.

He'd call a meeting now to explain the plan's execution, which was now more likely to work.

He left the room and locked the door with a thick padlock, speaking into his talkie and radioing another impromptu meeting at the city hall while leaving the building. He took a cigar and torch lighter from his jeans' pocket and lit it, putting it in his mouth and huffing several times while thin, silky smoke dissipated in the air.

It helped relieve stress while keeping him sober and allowing him to maintain clarity, which he had a lot of after dealing with his group. While he sometimes wished for a more competent team, his men would do anything he asked. They abandoned what identity they held to follow a greater position of power, as the mind was conditioned. They were order followers focused only on getting their next meal.

All except for one.

He heard a noise nearby while on the way and took his pistol out its holster, stopping and aiming it in the direction before speaking while pushing his cigar aside. "Show yourself!"

Ben emerged from around a corner with his hands up upon seeing the weapon. "I was... going to the meeting."

He put his weapon back, beckoning Ben with his hand and continuing the walk. He pulled out the cigar momentarily to blow smoke. "Just who I wanted to see."

Ben followed and wondered why he had to walk to the meeting with him. He wasn't fond of his boss in the slightest, and he always radiated this unsettling aura.

"I find your stubbornness intriguing. Occasionally, you must do things you don't enjoy in life, but even with yours at stake, you refuse to comply and travel in numbers."

Now was a perfect time for Ben to tell the truth, even though it could very well backfire on him. "I'm... not like your men, sir."

He nodded and coughed. "Then why the fuck are you still here?"

"T-To survive." Ben swallowed. The same reason Peter had.

"I'd assume you'd do anything told of you not to be banished, in that case. I don't house freeloaders."

Ben saw the contradiction but couldn't help how he felt. It seemed the boss wasn't fond of his decision after all, seeing as he was now being semi-threatened.

"Here are your options, Ben." He stopped. "You either don't participate, you find a group, or continue with what you're attempting currently, but here's the catch... your mission must yield the same or at least very similar results as if you were a team of three. If you aren't useful, there is no sense in wasting a valuable day." He stopped before the packed hall and put his cigar out. "Because I'm putting you up tomorrow. You have until then to decide."

He left Ben standing at the entrance and walked in, the chatter among his men falling silent as he passed. "Everyone must pay close attention to my words. What I am about to explain will result from our tireless scouting."

He stopped a distance ahead of them. "Realistically, we do not have enough bodies to overtake a fortified base, but I have a plan we can use to compensate for that. Apparently, this base was attacked by hordes recently. Now, the hordes aren't on our side by any means, but that doesn't mean they can't aid us." He crouched and smirked. "We could lead them and find a way for them to target the base once more, in turn causing enough of a distraction for us to strike with less pushback."

Listen closely. If and when we get inside, we will not be killing civilians. Group them so they don't try anything, but do not kill unless they pose a threat. We will, however, kill every guard on sight. Most of them will die trying to defend that base, and we cannot take chances. Once we're in the clear, we begin searching for and taking supplies. Grab anything we might need-- food, water, weapons, ammo... Questions, issues with this approach?"

"I'm sure Ben has all of 'em. He's too pussy to put a bullet in anyone," one in the crowd said, which brought snickering from others.

The boss glared, making the room fall silent again. "Okay. Let's see then. Ben, stand."

He did, tense. His eyes shot around nervously, and he felt humiliated. Why was the boss entertaining these guys?

"Would you take a person's life? Be honest with us. No one's going to laugh because they'll be working your shift for a week if they do."

Ben looked down for a moment before replying, feeling his head warm. Here goes. "...No, sir."

"Why is that?"

"It's wrong... I don't get to decide who lives or dies."

The boss shrugged. "Fair... but if taking a life is wrong, why is it so easy to do? I could kill you as easily as you could me." He stood. "But I don't take pleasure in it. Some of you may, and that's none of my concern, but I take when I need. The night I took out that woman was to defend our city. We cannot let anyone think they can enter and leave alive. That threatens us.

That's what survival is, is it not? We had civilization and a robust economy months ago. No one had to kill for survival. We had law and the lingering virtues of compassion and empathy... They held us back from acting on the unspeakable thoughts many have, but what is law based on-- this world based on?" he looked at Ben. "Why don't you tell me, Ben."

"Uh..." He had to think about one. He had always wanted to bring positivity to the table, but that's more of what he'd always wished society to be. He couldn't very much argue with the boss's perception.

"Violence, yeah?" He stood. "War is how major issues are solved between regions when it's tense enough. No man in power will bend to another, and they all believe their views are just. Tension rises, everyone dies except for the man who cares not of his citizens when his pride and power is threatened. It's rinse repeat."

"We all behaved because of the prospect of violence. You commit a crime down to a misdemeanor, and the authority will be on their way, armed and unafraid to use brute force. You get something as simple a parking ticket and refuse to pay for long enough, you get arrested, and it's far from pleasant behind bars. If you fail to behave at all, often violent consequences or something close is threatened. People that wouldn't enact it themselves run to authorities that will.

It's a cycle, and now, there is no more civility, no more trust... nothing that allows us to pretend we're much different from feral pokémon. When situations are dire and resources are scarce, we return to basics and are terrifying individuals. Our capability is terrifying when things get bad enough. Emotion matters little in this reality. There is only what one must do and what one's limit is... to what lengths one will go. Our group is still here for a reason."

He looked at Ben. "No one's forcing you to break your precious morals, but how long do you think you would survive alone out there? Some bastard would shoot you in the back without thought, take what's on your body, and leave you to bleed out. You're dead, and so are your morals. Most of us have adapted to this life and know that we can't afford to feel anymore. So, Ben, if you are unfit for this mission, say it now."

The room was utterly silent. Ben shut his eyes briefly and opened his mouth, struggling to voice the following words. "I'll... do it."

"Dismissed."

---

A few hours from midnight, Ben was hand washing clothes in his restroom sink while wearing pajamas. His parents and brother were asleep, and Ben would be in bed himself after dealing with this load.

He shut off the water, wrung out the clothing, and was about to leave the bathroom but froze. Ben heard a loud bang source from what had to be the front door, as if someone had kicked it in. His heart dropped, but he couldn't hide and leave his family vulnerable to whatever that may have been, although he wanted to curl and shrivel up. He entered the dark hall and saw his father standing over by his door with a pistol.

"What is it?" Ben whispered but saw his father put a finger to his mouth, signaling Ben to keep quiet. As much as he didn't want to believe it, the night arrived that he hoped would never come to be.

A flashlight shined down the hall and blinded them both, two gunshots following, which caused Ben to stumble back into the bathroom. The back of his head hit the corner of the sink, which disoriented him. He fell over and winced while holding his injury, seeing two figures rush past the doorway and stop where his father was lying, then heard more gunfire.

"Check the rooms."

Ben struggled to get up after hearing a man's voice, stumbling multiple times and nearly falling into the shower while rubbing his head, feeling warm blood. He grabbed the doorframe and looked down the hall. His father was on his back with bullet holes in his chest and head. They'd killed him and were in the bedroom with his mother.

Ben leaned against the wall and took a knife from his pocket that he always kept on him. It wasn't much, but it would have to do. He flinched upon hearing more gunshots and walked quickly into the room. His mother was sitting up on the bed, and a female intruder was on the floor, convulsing and trying to reach for her pistol that she'd dropped.

"No, no, damn it!" The standing intruder, in return, shot Ben's mother multiple times without hesitance.

Ben watched her fall back and, in a fit of shock and anger, tackled the man and was able to push him onto the bed, stabbing him repeatedly in the side and back. However, it didn't do much other than bring grunts out of him.

In his dazed state, Ben was thrown off and against the wall. He looked up and saw the man's rugged face and full beard as he stood and held his side, slightly hunched.

He trained his pistol on Ben but was interrupted by yet another gunshot. "Dah!" He dropped the pistol and knelt while holding his hand.

Ben looked over and saw his younger brother in the doorway holding his father's pistol. He had to get them out of here, but he didn't know how. Ben still felt dizzy but slowly stood, and as he did, saw another man approach from behind his brother and press the barrel of a shotgun to the back of his head.

Ben awoke in a cold sweat and sat up, working to catch his breath while his heart raced. He glanced around and realized he was in his room in Sunyshore, unfortunately. He'd recently gotten off his shift and had taken a nap.

The night he dreamed of haunted him often. Ben had managed to escape by climbing through the window and pacing to Route 210, where they lived nearby. He narrowly avoided getting shot several times and passed out in bushes and tall grass, which saved his life.

Ben hadn't become cold even after that event and honestly wished he had. It'd make life during such times bearable. Perhaps it would have been best if he'd died that night with his family.

He got up and grabbed one of the bottles of water stored under his bed to wash his face over the restroom sink, unscrewing the top and pouring some in his palm.

What was he living for, honestly? He had no purpose and couldn't make one. There was no society to create something out of and no people to meet, so Ben couldn't attempt to start over. He had to live through the same useless routine daily with recycled thoughts. He worked directly with men unlike him and spent all his free time either in his room or out walking, which he did enough of on shift.

He threw the water on his face, and while rubbing it in, he heard a knock at the door and sighed. "Any time but now..." He exited after drying with a towel. "You can open!"

What difference did it make? The door couldn't lock.

Ben saw the door swing open and the boss behind it. He knew why he was here. The situation grew tedious, and Ben didn't want to deal with it.

He lowered his foot and stared. "Decision?"

Ben took a breath. He hadn't and wouldn't change his mind. He would just have to make this work somehow. "I'm... going alone tomorrow, sir. I'll put in work."

He chuckled, "well, this will certainly be interesting. I'll be impressed solely by you making it back alive. See you at dawn." With that, he left Ben's sight.

"Ugh." Ben shut the door. At least there wasn't a lecture this time. He'd live to prove him and everyone else wrong, although it wouldn't do much. They'll just come up with something else to tease him about the next day.

He couldn't go back to sleep after that vivid nightmare, and he wasn't going for a stroll after spending all morning on foot, but he'd end up sitting and staring into space otherwise. Ben wished he would have caught a pokémon before life flipped. He had nothing but silence with him, and he was never one to require a social life, but it was different when he had no options. He still missed Peter.

Even before everything collapsed, Ben didn't have friends and preferred solitude. He never kept any that he made for more than a few weeks as he preferred staying in his room, reading books, or using his laptop and whatnot, but Ben always helped those he came across in need, even wild pokémon. He once carried one he found injured severely on a route after a predator attacked it to a nearby Pokémon Center, waiting an hour until the nurse could confirm it would survive.

The least he could do was ensure he was prepared for tomorrow. Ben went to his room, opened the closet, pulled out a medium-sized backpack, and put his remaining three waters inside from under the bed. He would fill the bag's compartments with any snacks or drinks he came across in Celestic and try his best to hide it from everyone.

He'd preserve most of the items he found in case he had to leave or got kicked out of Sunyshore in the near future by chance, which he didn't doubt anymore.