“ABSOLUTE POWEEEEER!” Patrick yelled as he bore deep into the mountain like a nuclear-powered drill and quoted a line from his favorite Disney movie - Aladdin. He swung his pick with enough force that it threatened to break. In fact, he had been lucky to find a rarer pickaxe, since all the lower rarity ones broke whenever he tried to use them now. He was becoming stronger and stronger by the minute. Everything was coming together. He would be ready for his big reveal any day now.

I used to be a fat little caterpillar, but soon I will emerge from my furry red cocoon, Patrick thought excitedly as the rock of the ancient mountain melted to his whim as if it were the brown sugar his mom used to simmer in a butter-filled pan when she baked him cookies. I will be a beautiful, powerful, muscle filled, butterfly.

Truth be told, Patrick wasn’t sure what he would look like after the reveal. He had a vague idea he would become slightly taller than any Martyr. He hoped he would be as big as Dreng, or as close to it as any of the other humans could ever get. But he hadn’t really put much thought into that part. His mind was preoccupied with the reveal. He contemplated going into the dungeon and challenging, ‘his mom’ to a one on one fight. Everyone would cheer him and watch him transform into a battle machine that had enough hit points and armor to withstand any attack, even one from a large rock creature. Afterward, everyone would try to carry him away in celebration of his dedication to protecting the village, but they would fail, because he was too heavy to carry, even for a large crowd of people. The only problem with that plan was that James and Torunn would definitely stop him from letting villagers into the dungeon to watch his show, so he would have to find another enemy to defeat and demonstrate his new power when he got it. He wanted to activate the ability mid-fight, so the onlookers could see the difference in him - like the before and after pictures he took that one time he went on the Atkin’s diet. This time though, the difference would be visible, because this time he was dedicated, and there were no brown sugar cookies to break his determination. So there was only one thing left for him to do… well, there was two. He had to find an enemy powerful enough to kill him, and he had to actually level up enough to get the new class.

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Grats! Your mining skill got better. Choose one;

- More muscles

- Faster rock breaking

“Oh!” Patrick exclaimed like a fat kid in a cake shop. He choose to increase his strength since he had already increased his rock breaking speed so high that he could barely use any pickaxes. Patrick felt his muscles become even bulgier and his shoulders even broadier. Just when his head hit the ceiling of the tunnel he was in, he grew some more.

Oh, wow, that must of been a big increase, Patrick thought, still growing.

When he finally stopped growing, he barely had enough room to move within the tunnel. His head was bent against the rough ceiling and his shoulders were scraping against the walls. As Patrick stood there contemplating what to do, he quoted another line from his favorite Disney movie, this time from the good genie instead of the evil one.

“PHENOMENAL COSMIC POWER,” He bellowed before channeling his squeakiest voice, “Itty bitty living space.”

Patrick chuckled at himself, moments before the the lack of space started to bother him. He pushed against the rock above him with his head. It felt malleable. The muscles in his neck tightened and he pressed his head harder into the ceiling. It gave way and rock crumbled to his feet. Patrick pushed his head to the left, forward, backward, and to the right to mine himself some additional headspace.

“Ah,” he sighed, “that’s better.”

Then Patrick gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. The rock walls felt malleable to him as well. He took in a deep breath and puffed up his chest as wide as it could go. His shoulders pushed up against the rock.

“Just...A… Little,” Patrick said between inhales, “bit more,” he finished, just as the rock walls crumbled under the pressure of his impenetrable skin.

Freedoooom! Patrick thought, finally having enough room to bend over and grab his pickaxe, Whelp, back to work, back to work.