Apocalypse respawn

Rargnes moved forward without knowing how to convince people of his words, that they were in danger. He did his exercise, then searched the shelves to find a better idea or weapon. He grabbed the handle of a ballet, wrapped it with ropes attached to his knife. He examined the result. The knife swung slightly. He tightened the rope, the knife moving little.

He wanted to prepare another knife, or perhaps several. The three years of his previous life had made him understand the weakness of their arsenal – where he was, it was not uncommon to see two people fighting to the death, their weapons deteriorating as they pierced each other's flesh. And maybe it would be better to use a knife as a projectile.

He arrived at the location and noticed that the larger knives had been taken. He grabbed a small handbag and took about twenty medium-sized knives. He had heard gunshots, so firearms were still working. That could be a good argument.

The group began to wake up, some vomiting the remnants of the old. He went to see one of those who had not partied and sat down next to them.

"Tough, huh?"

The man looked at him with a furrowed brow then withdrew his gaze.

"Uh, for the goblins... it would be good to have firearms."

"Leave me alone."

He began his survey without stopping for his emotions that screamed at him not to move or speak. He managed to elicit from some that indeed firearms would not be a luxury – although there would be too many for everyone to possess one, and strangely, it did not seem wise to some to let the most tyrannical ones armed with a firearm.

Once they were awake, Rargnes gave them a speech. He told them the importance of firearms, and if there was a positive response, no one wanted to follow him. He left the central position he had taken.

"I am not a leader," he thought, "why must we always be governed by feelings and not logic? The world would be so much better if everyone could control their vices and act logically."

He sighed and, seeing people talking among themselves, stress rising within him, thought that it might be good for him to have trustworthy people, or at least to appear stronger in the times ahead.

He found a group with whom the idea of firearms did not seem absurd, and awkwardly tried to make acquaintances. The action made him uncomfortable, but he was now in a small group of five – unfortunately with his former neighbor, Hirtus, who had rolled his eyes and said, "Come on, guys, we're not sleeping tonight."

When night fell, Rargnes said:

"Shouldn't we take turns on guard duty? I can take any shift."

None seemed willing. Rargnes fell asleep with his lance gripped in his hand, finding sleep difficult. He needed walls, protection.

Days passed and the condition of the people deteriorated more and more, more and more people forming communities to try to protect themselves. More and more groups wanted to explore the surroundings and see if there were any goblins left. Rargnes participated, separated from his group.

They arrived at the police station without encountering goblins or people. Someone began to open the door, pushing it with their shoulder, then asking for help.

They took what could better serve as a ram, and began to break down the door. After a few blows, the door gave way in the middle, and they removed the pieces of wood, and a person crossed the threshold.

A gunshot rang out. Rargnes found himself frozen for a moment, seeing the body fall, then rushed backward, in a crowd, until he returned to the supermarket.

Rargnes sat at the same level as the other group – and despite his fatigue, disgust, this feeling of seeing death, a logical thought told him that this would be a good group to stay with. Someone's death would strengthen them, wouldn't it?

"It was a goblin!" someone quickly said, "a damn goblin shot! They know how to use firearms and haven't disappeared!"

Someone rushed to the other groups, asking them to come and explaining, though difficult to believe, but still giving a justification for simply waiting for the arrival of greater scourges. None of them seemed willing to explore the class principle.

As he watched the spectacle, his breath short, he felt an energy emerge from his body.