Fred made her way to the cafeteria carefully, Emily stepping beside her. The school was utterly empty. The garden paths and tiled halls were devoid of not only NPCs or anomalies, but the Battlefront as well.

Upon reaching the cafeteria doors, she sniffed suspiciously. Something tickled the back of her throat. She glanced at Emily. Emily nodded encouragingly. Taking a breath, Fred pushed the door open.

Fred never did figure out how the Student Body President had managed it. The cafeteria ladies had all recently been gunned down in their new role as monsters of the system. It was possible that Emily had created every dish that Fred now saw. If that was the case, then Emily had the abilities of Mary Poppins, besides being able to take an aircraft carrier one-on-one.

Perhaps even more miraculous, was that she had somehow convinced the entire Battlefront to try the massive quantities of Chupacabra curry that she had prepared. The steaming plates of chicken and rice were arranged on very table, surrounded by members of the Battlefront.

And they were eating it. Faces red and sweating, lungs gasping for air.

"How is it so hot," she heard Emmanuel pant as she walked in.

Richie sat next to him, and was chewing thoughtfully. "Yes… but the aftertaste, it's strangely satisfying."

Emmanuel's eyes widened as he swallowed. "Hey, you're right. This is actually pretty good!"

Emily laughed as she led Fred to an empty seat. "I knew they'd like it! Chupa curry is my favorite food," she confided, sitting beside Fred. "Would you like a plate?"

Fred received the platter of sizzling food hesitantly. Oh-Sheesh, she was bad with spicy food… "Well, I…" Fred trailed off, her heart swelling as a familiar face turned toward her.

"Elliot? Elliot! Dude, are you all right?"

Across the table from her, Elly fished a fork around his bowl. He huffed, and tried to rub the blush out of cheeks. "Um… Well, apparently, I became an NPC for a bit. Which is totally not okay."

"How'd you get out?" Fred asked quietly.

Elly huffed again. "Well, for the longest time I didn't even know what had happened. I was still me, but… confined. Then, after class yesterday, I saw some jerks picking on a freshman. Used to happen to me all the time as a kid. So, I just started to get really angry. And, well-

"So, he turned into the hulk," Emm chuckled, leaning over. "When me and TK found him, the punks were running for their lives. It was epic."

"Once I reached the point where I was feeling more than I ever would at school normally, I just sort off slipped back." Elliot pushed up his glasses. "Also, I understand that you'd destroyed the system that regulated the human-to-program application. That probably made the transition easier."

Fred leaned across the table for a fist bump. "You rock, man. Something like that is never easy." Leaning back, she noticed the person on her other side. Mike was grinning at her gently. She raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you smiling about, moron?"

He stood up. "Just glad to see you so happy, Winnie. You know, I don't think I've ever seen you so relaxed. There's nothing here to fight, but you're still happy. Listen, I'll be right back. I promised TK I'd sing a duet with him."

Fred watched him go, fingers rapping the table. "He can really get under my skin, you know that?"

Emm guffawed. "Yeah, but a week ago, you would have shot him in the head for a comment like that. You really have mellowed."

Fred didn't respond. She found her gaze drawn to fingernails. They were worn and ripped from constant use and the occasional nibbling. She really should take better care of them. Wait, hold on.

She could still remember her stay as Winifred Washington, student of Elihu the Young Acadamy. Relaxed, knowledgeable about issues such as dating, and a social friend. Fred knew that that person was a part of her. And, there's nothing wrong with being like that, Fred thought.

But I'm more than that. I am who I am, even if I am a bit crusty at the edges. Still, it's nice to know I could like that part of Winifred Washington. If I choose to.

A round of cheers and laughter rocked the cafeteria as the boys began their routine. TK's familiar voice sounded husky and rich, with Mike following behind.

"It's the end, of the world, as we know it. And I feel fine."

She grunted, prodding a piece of chicken with her fork. She took a sip of water. "Mike's off key."

"Yes, he sounds very silly. I think that I why so many are smiling," Emily laughed. "Did you know that Michael shares his name with one of God's archangels? Michael is the commander of the Lord's army, a champion."

Fred snorted, water backfiring in her throat. "Seriously? That's hilarious. Mike can't fight for beans." She watched her friend for a few moments. TK had grabbed Mike's wrists, and the two were waltzing between the tables. As the duo passed, Mike mouthed S.O.S. When Fred continued, her voice was softer. "Sometimes, I wonder why someone like Mike even ended up here."

"I think Mike is a better fighter then you realize," Emily replied softly. "The Lord fights different battles then what we are used to. And for his champions, he picks the most unlikely people."

As the song ended, Fred noticed Mike and TK go to join a crowd of people forming around one of the far tables. She glanced at Emily, and nodded over towards the commotion. Emily made an insistent gesture towards the plate of curry. Groaning, Fred scooped a bite into her mouth, and they set off to see what was going on.

As she joined the crowd of others, Fred couldn't see what was going on. This was because her eyes were clamped shut in shock, as tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt like steam was bursting from her ears. She could feel Emily patting her back. Finally, her vision cleared enough to understand what was occurring.

Luke and Hannah were locked in a no-holds-bared, fight to the death eat-off. Squeaky clean plates were stacked at the left side of each of the combatants as they eaters dove into the curry, wolfing down carbs with the intensity born of trained resolve, and a perpetually empty stomach.

The onlookers gasped in amazement as the duo finished their plates simultaneously, and slapped the table for another.

"The contestants have now reached their seventh plate," Bridget announced from the head of the table, voice sweeping the room. "This is a new record for the amount of infamous, deadly-hot Chupa curry to be consumed in one sitting. Though technically, I doubt if anyone else has ever managed more than a mouthful before now."

Hannah winked at Luke from across the table as the next plates arrived, before diving right back in.

The onlookers' mouths grew progressively closer to the floor as more and more food vanished into the skinny frames of Hannah and Luke. But everyone has their limit.

Hannah slowed. Her eyes traveled down from her fork, to the pile of saucy rice remaining on her plate. She slumped back into her chair, burping gently. Across from her, Luke energetically slid the rest of the food down his yawing gullet, before he noticed the fate of his competitor.

"Hannah! Are you all right? Do you need some water?"

"I don't think I can move," she muttered, "without sloshing. And I would prefer not to slosh. But yes, I'd really love some water."

"And the winner," Bridget roared, raising Luke's fist high, "is old' bottomless pit Luke!"

Fred clapped along with the rest, face pale with sincere awe. It was beyond her how anyone could handle that much spiciness. "Hey, everyone?" she called as the applause died. "Once you're done eating, meet me outside in the courtyard. There's something I need to talk to you all about."