Margaret followed her assigned wave of vanguard and warriors onto the battlefield. They were noticeably tired. She was tired. The battle had been going on for two hours, but that was only this battle.

Fight after fight they had been traveling between. The last few weeks had left everyone fatigued, even if leveling made them require less sleep. The pressure, the effort, it had worn them down.

At first, after the bounty message the [System] sent out on Adam, it had been only every two days that she and her battle company were called out. Then it became daily. Within a week, it felt almost constant. Now they were ferried from battlefield to battlefield, required to fight and defend their land.

As tired as Margaret was, she knew the younger men and women in front of her had it worse. They were the ones swinging their swords and raising their shields. Margaret was a support, focused on increasing her people's speed, regeneration, and using barriers that reduced the damage they received.

Truth be told, she didn't really understand all of what her skills did, but she made sure to use them to the best of her ability to keep those around her safe. Unfortunately, even with the amount of effort she put into it, she had still seen many people fall.

It was turning into a hopeless fight. They didn't even have time after battles to honor the dead, to carve names into the Wall of Heroes. The challenges they faced were becoming more dire.

Everyone in the Sentinel Army was fighting. Everyone was wearing down. It was when they were in the midst of combat, the tension and danger at its highest, that she regretted not taking the Warrior or Mage class. The anger she felt towards the home wrecking invaders across the field from her made her want to personally dole out punishment. Even though she knew the Sentinel Army wouldn't be able to last much longer.

It wasn't that humanity was weaker than those they faced. There was a clear attrition to their forces while larger and more frequent invader armies were testing them. Soon, there would be a breech in the human defenders, and then the invaders would have a direct approach to Jackson, where all the non-combatants were.

Margaret threw out her spells, going down the line of those she was assigned to. First her [Haste] buff. Once everyone in range received it, then she would use [Regeneration Boost]. She would follow that with [Damage Reduction Shield] on the protectors. At that point, she would need her mana to come back before she did the whole thing again.

Yet, the Sentinel Army combat knife at her waste and the solid but lightweight mace in her hand made her want to storm the fields herself. The world had just become too painful for her. The understanding of it had passed her by while she hadn't taken the [System] messages seriously.

In her mid-sixties, Margaret should be at home spending time with Eric, her retired husband. Or traveling to Ohio to visit her daughter's family. Michigan trips had also been expected so she could enjoy her son's family there. Her elder son had stayed closer to home, in Memphis, but after the Sentinel Army took over the city, there was no sign of him or her grandchildren there.

When the first [System] message appeared, and it had asked her to choose a class, she had been clueless as to what it meant. It took almost half an hour for her to figure out how to dismiss the message so that it didn't interfere with her view. Only when her grandson in Michigan, Matthew, called did she have any idea of what she should do.

Matthew had been so excited. He was often excited when he called her, which he made sure to do weekly. Margaret felt so blessed to have a dedicated grandchild who was so attached to her and dedicated in calling.

Every week she got to hear how his grades were, straight As except for when the teachers "cheated" him with a B, the games he played, the girls who talked to him, and the clubs he had joined in high school. She didn't understand even half of what Matthew told her, but his joy became her joy as she listened and got to feel like a part of his life, regardless of the distance.

When he had called, doubly excited about the [System] message and class choice, she had listened to him breathlessly explain about video games, stats, theory crafting, min-maxing, and such. While she didn't want to throw cold water on his exuberance, she still tried to temper his feelings. A lot of odd things could happen in life, and she didn't want to see him hurt or let down when this oddness proved to be much ado about nothing.

Truly she had been foolish in her ignorance.

Matthew was the reason she was a support. He had explained all about the classes and the advantages that he expected each to have. Then he suggested, insisted really, that she select Support. Because she was old and wise.

Well, her arthritis meant she wouldn't be able to hold weapons, and Matthew promised that he would protect her and she could heal him. Then he begged her to come to Lansing to be close to him.

Margaret didn't regret turning him down. After all, she had no idea what would happen next. However, she regretted not calling his father and demanding that their family come to Jackson to weather things. There was just no way for her to know how bad it'd get. And that she would probably never get to talk to Matthew or his siblings again.

When word got around that another young man, a high schooler only a year older than her Matthew, was spending a ridiculous amount of money and effort to prepare for some imagined doomsday, she volunteered. Not because she believed in all that nonsense, but because it gave her something to do. Just like how she had wanted to support her grandson, she decided to support the young man giving his all for the community. Even if she thought it wouldn't be a big deal. The young needed encouragement to affect the world.

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She met Adam Clemens when she entered that strange warehouse. That was also when she began to realize that the situation was much bigger than she expected. Joining the canning line, she met the young man.

He had visible scars on his face and often forgot to wear all his clothes. Adam had an odd combination of politeness and rudeness that made her laugh. His appetite was appalling, even knowing growing young men needed more food than others.

There was just something so endearing about him, and she wasn't the only volunteer who enjoyed interacting with him.

Half the times he was a goofball, absentmindedly wandering around doing whatever struck his fancy. Other times he walked rigidly, as if the world rested on his shoulders and monsters were chasing after him.

Which they were. She knew that now, even if back then she never bothered to watch the videos that Matthew excitedly explained to her. Matthew's excitement had ramped even higher when she sent him a picture of her giving Adam, "The General" was what Matthew called him though Margaret would be sure to use his name, a bowl of food.

She hadn't taken all the warnings and the events seriously, and now all she could do to protect her husband and those who were left was to stand in the back and cast weird spells. Margaret wanted nothing more than to rush out there to club those damned monsters.

Magical healing had fixed her arthritis. Those funny stats that Matthew tried to explain had made her stronger, nimbler, and tougher. But she was now stuck in the back. Watching. Waiting. Seeing others struggle to survive the incoming hordes.

What she saw now was not encouraging. Three invader armies had combined. There were creatures that looked like a combination of elephants and giant feral cats. The invaders were spacing them out while others were attaching structures that looked like a combination of fortifications and mesh nets between the creatures. Once they charged, Margaret wasn't sure anyone in front of them would survive.

Moments like this were when she missed Matthew and her family the most. She had affection for Adam, especially once she learned all he went through to keep his family and community safe. Such terrible things he had gone through and kept moving forward. Yet, Adam and the others here couldn't replace her family.

Inside she desperately wanted to believe that Matthew was like Adam, leading a great army in defiance of the monsters. That he and his forces were able to stand their ground in Michigan, setting up a city using alien magic, and keeping as many people safe as he could.

But she knew Matthew was no Adam. No one was. It was unlikely that he had survived. She didn't really understand how Adam, or anyone else really, had survived. Margaret would have cried if she had any tears left. But she didn't. It was all war and spells and fading hope.

She hadn't heard about Adam in two weeks, except for rumors. They said that he had learned how to strength his hand-picked elite. Or that he was in seclusion, cultivating to get stronger. Whatever that meant left Margaret clueless.

In the end, they would fight until they died. Either here, or the next battlefield, or another down the line. Humanity's struggle would come to an end.

She didn't want to see that end. Margaret knew how hard Adam had worked, how much he had suffered, to carry everyone to this point. As hard as they were fighting now, even as she cast spell after spell, she knew that Adam worked himself to the bone. There was no doubt about it.

Yet was there any reason to believe that success lay at the end of this?

After all those thoughts and memories, Margaret tried to focus on her assignments. Buffing all the soldiers. Increasingly she was missing her targets, skipping over some of the fighters. It wasn't intentional. It just showed how exhausted she was from the fighting, sorrow, and loneliness.

Margaret was ready to get this over with and to see her end. Even if that left Eric back in Jackson, on his own.

Still, she didn't give in. For those young men and women shouldering humanity, who deserved a future, she kept going until her mana ran dry. After another 10 minutes, the alert sounded out, telling everyone to pull back to switch with the next wave of fighters. By then, Margaret was breathing heavily and sweating from all the activity.

When she arrived at their defensive position, she was surprised that the next wave wasn't prepared to head out. Instead, 15 people were waiting there. She wasn't sure who they were, or why only fifteen people thought they could do the work of an army.

Then the young man in the lead turned his face towards her. She hadn't recognized him due to the anger and hate in his expression as he looked out upon the invaders setting up their beast carried assault weapons. When the young man noticed her, all the hate left his face and he gave her a beaming smile.

Margaret's heart fluttered and she blushed, not due to romantic feelings, but there was just something about his wholesome smile that made her feel like the grandmother she should still be. Adam left his group and sauntered over to her.

"No peaches today?" he asked mischievously as he bend down and hugged her.

"Are you still hungry?" asked Margaret, remembering his abnormal appetite.

"Not so much anymore, grammy," he responded while warmly putting his arm over her shoulder. Margaret's heart felt both painful and soothed by his familiarity, as if he really was her grandson. "Today, I'm coming for something else."

Then he took a moment and stepped away, eyeing her up and down.

"Huh," he said bemused. "You sure are angry, grammy. Anything bothering you?"

Margaret looked at Adam and then to the distant invaders, waiting for the humans to come out to fight. Then Margaret started to tell Adam about her grandson, and all her children and grandchildren. Adam's eyes looked wetter than hers as she spoke with venom about her loved ones being taken from her.

A crowd had gathered around them. They listened to her story, and even though she didn't cry, many of them did. Everyone had lost family and friends to the invaders. Adam also looked sad as he rubbed her back comfortingly.

When she was finished, he nodded.

"It's time," he said quietly. "They are hemming us in, trying to trap us here while they take our world from us. It's time to get angry."

Adam's voice rose in volume as he spoke, and the heads nodded around him.

"It's time for us to show them [The Power of Our Rage]."

Margaret saw Adam's eyes flash red and gray with the use of the skill. But that wasn't all. She felt her own anger rise. It spread inside of her. When it reached her chest, her heart beat harder. When it spread through her legs, she felt lighter. As it reached her hands, the grip on her mace grew tighter and more powerful.

She brought up her status sheet and saw that her strength, agility, and vitality had soared by 200 points each.

Then she smiled. It wasn't a kind, grandmotherly smile.

Adam saw it and turned. Margaret watched his back for only a moment as he walked away from the soldiers of the Sentinel Army and towards the invaders across the battlefield.

Margaret didn't let him go alone. It only took a single look at those invaders before she sneered and followed Adam. Then she realized everyone else had followed as well.

There were no orders. No roles or formations, just a mob of angry humans, empowered by their angry leader, ready to crush the enemies in front of them.

And with Adam's new skill, they had the strength to do it.

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