A Stranger

The safehouse was 0.6 miles away. Easy to travel, ETA says thirteen minutes.

But the objective didn't mention that I need to do it right away. That was the mistake, really.

Because it gave me time to think.

I wasn't ready for that.

So I walked. Again.

[Side Quests Nearby: 2][Would you like a mindfulness exercise?][Recommended: Smile! It improves mood by 17%.]

"Fuck off," I muttered.

I passed a glass building and caught my reflection. Still me. Or at least something wearing my face. I looked beside me, a figure of my brother, sticking out like a sore thumb. 

"Come on, Jamie. Hallucinations? Really? That's where you've degraded to?" He asked. I knew he was not there. He was just an image made up by my mind. 

[Permission to regain stability over mind?] It asked me.

I shook my head, "Well, that is new." I said, thinking about my brother's mirage.

"So, you gonna go to that new safehouse of yours, Jamie?" He asked. "Nope, I'm just gonna sit around here and waste time some more," I told him.

He frowned. "You've got the invasion to deal with. Remember?" He told me.

I looked at him, dead in the eye. To be honest, I'd forgotten about it. The Chitauri invasion was still in the script. 

"Why should I care? I won't die anyway." I told him. 

He looked at me with a stern look, "Come on, Jamie. Put some thought into the possibilities. You have the power to make an impact, brother, to save lives and be a good man."

"While you may be invulnerable, the people you're here with are not. This isn't just a game to you; it's also reality for them. They're flesh-and-blood individuals, and they don't deserve to be treated as some fictional NPCs."

I looked at my brother's face. Sharp jaw. That stupid cowlick in his hair that never behaved. He looked exactly like he did the last time I saw him. The real him.

I exhaled. "I know they're real," I muttered. "I just… don't feel it yet."

[System Warning: Emotional Desynchronization Detected]

[Stability: Dropping (72% → 61%)]

[Recommended: Grounding Activity or Emotional Anchor]

I ignored it.

My brother crossed his arms—classic I'm Disappointed in You™ stance. "That's not good enough anymore. Not with what you've been given." I clicked my tongue.

"The One Above All, he should've given this to you, my brother. His stupid ass gave it to me."

[Stability: 59%]

[Emotion Flag Detected: Survivor's Guilt]

[New Debuff: Weight of the Unworthy – Speed -2%, Willpower -5%]

"Y'know," I muttered, "if this really is a game, it's got terrible balance issues. 0/10. Would not recommend."

He didn't laugh.

Of course, he didn't.

He wasn't real. But still, I couldn't stop talking to him. Because if I didn't talk to him, I'd have to talk to myself.

"You were always the one who gave a shit," I said. "About people. About me. You'd have done something with these powers. Saved the world. Worn a cape, probably."

He smirked. "Cape would've been red. A nice little logo on the back, maybe." I snorted.

"You always were the dramatic one."

[Emotional Spike Detected: Brief Joy][Stability: +2%][Memory Thread Preserved]

"But you got the powers," he said. "So what now? Are you going to waste them? Wait out the end of the world in some dingy safehouse with your stats turned off?"

"I didn't ask for this," I repeated.

"No one ever does," he replied. "But you're here. And I'm not." "

Do you ever shut up?" I asked, voice thin. "I'm in your head, Jamie. I'll shut up when you're honest with yourself."

I chuckled. "See, this is where it gets obvious. Due to me seeing all those cheesy superhero movies, I'm imagining you giving me a pep-talk, and after this pep-talk, I get ready and save the world, is that it?" I asked him.

He tilted his head. "Would that be so bad?" I scoffed, loud and bitter. "Yes. Because that's not how this works. I'm not going to have a dramatic breakthrough because the hallucination of my dead brother played guidance counselor for five minutes. You're not real. You're just—" I paused, jaw tightening.

"You're just how my brain makes guilt wearable."

 My brother stepped closer, and even though I knew he was just pixels and pain, I felt like I could smell his old deodorant.

"Alright," he said. "Then don't do it for them. Do it for me." I froze.

[System Prompt: Emotional Anchor Candidate – Valid][Stability: 57% → 61% (Temporarily Stabilized)]

"No," I said quietly. "No, you don't get to say that. You don't get to ask that."

"Why not?" he said. "You're the one still breathing."

"And you're not breathing because of me."

"You're wrong," he said. "You didn't kill me, Jamie."

"I wanted to play that fuckass game, and because of that, you died. And you still wanna defend me?"

"You didn't kill me, Jamie," he said, quiet but firm.

"It was a car crash." I shook my head. "Because I called you. I told you to come home. I wanted to play Mortal Kombat like we were kids again. Like everything was normal. And you—"

My throat closed up. "You died on the way back."

[Stability: 61% → 55%][Warning: Emotional Feedback Loop Intensifying]

"Some woman came onto the road, unaware where she was going, that's not your fault, bro."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I shouted. "Not your fault, not your fault. I'm tired of this bullshit." I ran my hand through my hair, grasping it in frustration.

[Permission to regain stability over mind?] It asked again. "YES!" I shouted.

My brother's image faded out, leaving me alone. I looked beside me again, a roadside beggar, looking at me, a look on his face that I couldn't quite read.

"Honey, if we compare our bank accounts, we're in almost the same economic state," I told him.

He still looked at me with the same unreadable expression. Well, in his defense, I was talking to a ghost just a minute ago.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" I said, my tone a bit harsh.

He stayed silent.

I stood there for a moment, looking at the beggar who was still staring at me.

"Sorry," I muttered. "Long day." He nodded slowly, like he understood. Maybe he did. Street life probably gave you a PhD in recognizing crazy when you saw it.

I took out $100 and gave it to him. "Hope that helps you in any way. Don't spend it on cigarettes... if you have that habit." I told him. I didn't need the money now, I'll do something for myself. He looked like he hadn't eaten for days.

He looked at the money and then at me, before folding the money and putting it in his pocket. "Thank you," He said, his voice rough and deep.

[Morality: + 2 for doing a good deed.]

I looked at the notification. 'Is everything I do classified as grinding?' I thought as I dismissed it.

"You okay, son?" He asked me.

I hesitated for a moment, "Yeah-yeah, I'm fine." 

"What's troubling you? You were talking to someone, but no one was there." He told me.

"I know that," I responded.

"Who were you talking to?" He asked me.

"My brother. Well, he's dead." I told him.

He stood silent for a moment. 

"He died in a car accident a year ago," I said.

He took some time before responding, "He is in a better place now."

Ah, the standard set of dialogues.

"That, he is. But it's I who is stuck in this place. I would've loved this gift if they had given it to me a few years before. Now, I wish I could die."

"Life is a gift, son. A miracle. And what you think you've done is not worth dying for." He told me.

I chuckled. "And how would you know what I've done. You got spy cameras on my life or something?" I asked.

He smiled, his long hair blowing in the wind. 

He smiled, his long hair blowing in the wind, and there was something about that smile that made me pause. It wasn't the kind of smile you'd expect from someone who'd been living on the streets.

"Spy cameras?" he repeated, chuckling. "No, nothing like that. But you'd be surprised what you can learn just by watching people."

I frowned. Something felt off about this whole interaction, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"You gave me a hundred dollars," he continued, pocketing the money. "Most people would give five, maybe ten if they're feeling generous. But you gave me a hundred without thinking twice. That tells me something about who you are."

"Or it tells you I'm bad with money."

"Maybe." He shrugged. "But I don't think so. You're carrying guilt about something that wasn't your fault, and you're trying to balance the scales by being generous to strangers."

I stared at him. "You figured all that out from one conversation?"

"Like I said, you learn to read people." He gestured to the space where my brother's hallucination had been standing. "You were talking to him pretty intensely. Must have been important."

"Just working through some stuff."

"Car accident, you said. A year ago." He nodded thoughtfully. "And you think it's your fault because you called him to come home."

"I don't think—I know it is."

"Mm." He picked up a small stone from the ground, turning it over in his weathered hands. "Tell me, if your brother had called you to come over, and you'd gotten in an accident on the way, would you blame him?"

I opened my mouth to say yes, then stopped. "That's different."

"How?"

"Because..." I trailed off, realizing I didn't have a good answer.

"Because it's easier to blame yourself than to accept that sometimes bad things just happen," he said quietly. "Random drunk drivers don't check their schedules against your phone calls."

[Stability: 55% →62%]

I looked at him more carefully. He was probably in his sixties, with kind eyes and calloused hands. His clothes were worn but clean, and despite living on the streets, he carried himself with a certain dignity.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Stan," he said simply.

"Stan," I repeated. "You don't talk like most homeless people I've met."

"And how many homeless people have you met?"

"Fair point." I sat down on the curb next to him. "So what's your story, Stan? How'd you end up out here?"

He was quiet for a moment, still turning that stone over in his hands. "Made some bad choices. Lost some good people. Spent a long time thinking I deserved to be punished for it."

"And now?"

"Now I know that punishment and growth aren't the same thing." He looked at me sideways. "You got something important to do today, don't you?"

I checked my phone. Thirty-five minutes until the invasion. "Yeah, I do."

"But you're sitting here on a curb instead of doing it."

"I'm... taking a moment to think."

"Thinking's good. Overthinking's not." He stood up, brushing dust off his pants. "Mind if I give you some advice?"

"Shoot."

"Whatever you're planning to do, don't do it because you think you owe the world something. Do it because you choose to. There's a difference."

[New Trait Available: Self-Determination]

I felt something shift in my chest. Not the dramatic breakthrough I'd been avoiding, just a quiet settling, like puzzle pieces clicking into place.

"Thanks, Stan."

"Don't mention it." He shouldered his pack. "You take care of yourself, son. And remember—your brother wouldn't want you to carry this forever."

He started walking away, then paused and looked back. "Oh, and Jamie? When you get where you're going, remember that everyone's making it up as they go along. Even the ones who look like they know what they're doing. Don't end your journey too soon, I hope to see it grow."

I watched him disappear into the crowd. Well, that was.. pleasant. 'What did he say his name was?' I thought as I scratched my head.

"Stan?" I muttered. That name felt oddly familiar. 

Status

Name: Jamie Walker Race: Human (Variant)

Title: "Bodega Regular" 

HP: ∞

Mana: 51/51

Exp Bar: 5/10

Morality: Neutral [+2] » Decent

Stats:

Dexterity [DEX]: 38 (34+4)Increases speed, precision, and reaction time. Good for not dying, not tripping, and maybe looking cool while doing it.

Intelligence [INT]: 57 (51+6)Boosts processing speed, pattern recognition, and memory retention. Basically, your brain runs cold and fast. Still no common sense though. Also, improves your magical talent.

Available Stat Points: 0

Traits: Self-determination [highly increases focus and determination in whatever the player is doing.]

Status effects: None

Current Debuffs (Cleared): Weight of the Unworthy (Recently removed)Speed -2%, Willpower -5%

[Side Quests Nearby: 2]

[Main Objective: Reach Safehouse 23-B]

[Event Trigger: Chitauri Invasion – T-minus 00:05:12]

[System Suggestion: Mindfulness Exercise Available]

I let out a heavy sigh. Five minutes. That's all the time we had left before the invasion. I watched my surroundings. Everyone was just...living. They rushed about, completely unaware, with a careless disregard for the death that was mere minutes away. In just a few short moments, everything they knew would be gone.

I glanced at a nearby toy store. 'Benny's Toy Store' was its name. It may have an item that I needed now.

I strolled to the toy store, my hands tucked into my pockets, with $20 still to spend. As I stepped inside, I clenched the cash in my fist.

"How can I help you, sir?" the man who runs the store asked me.

I paused for a moment, "I need a mask, a nice one to cover my entire face. My nephew's birthday is coming up and I need a mask to... y'know, to surprise him."

The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow at the oddly specific request, but he nodded politely and led me down a narrow aisle.

Masks lined the walls—cheap plastic superheroes, neon monster faces, a few knockoff Power Rangers that looked like they'd sued each other into obscurity.

He gestured to a shelf. "All our full-face ones are here. Pick any. They're ten bucks each."

I scanned the options. A grinning skull. An astronaut helmet. A ridiculously buff cartoon wolf. My fingers hovered over a silver metallic mask—no features, just smooth chrome, like a mannequin head trying to forget who it used to be.

That one. That felt right.

I picked it up, weighed it in my hands. It wasn't high-tech, it didn't come with voice modulators or augmented HUDs—but it did the job. It hid me. That's what I needed.

"Nice choice," the shopkeeper said. "Creepy in a minimalist sort of way."

"Thanks," I muttered, pulling out the twenty and handing it over. "Keep the change."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's more than double."

"Call it an early Halloween donation," I said, grabbing the mask and walking out.

[Inventory Update: Faceless Mask (Common) – No bonuses, just vibes]

I stepped outside and held the mask up. The reflection in its surface was warped, but not unfamiliar. I slipped it on.

[New Visual Trait: Masked (Identity Concealed – Civilian Suspicion: -30%)]

The world felt quieter behind it. Like I'd put a wall between me and everything else. A little distance between me and Jamie Walker. 

...

...

...

Well, no one here even knows me, so, I guess that's an entirely different thing.