How long has it been? It felt like years had passed as I simply tried to make my way across the rock garden. Surely my body, my real body, was flatlined by now? Was this why the sadistic interface warned me to be in a safe place?

I collapsed almost across the garden, my body weight shifting ever so slightly to the side as I tumbled down. I didn’t even blink as I felt the- the objects enter my skin. It was nothing new, this pain of mine. Surely I had felt it hundreds of times as I tried, and failed, to cross silently. It was difficult. Even just the slightest misstep would make me feel this pain and restart.

The fox’s eyes, the beautiful warm eyes met mine. They gloated, and the tips of her snout upturned into what looked to be a smile even as its eyes crinkled. Ah, such a lovely sight. And then I was back to the beginning once more. The fox looked as though she hadn’t even moved as the moonlight continued to shower her.

How long had it been? I stopped counting after three hundred attempts. A period of time after that, maybe a couple hundred more, I started walking into the lightning just to feel something different. It was almost refreshing, energizing even, to feel the coursing strength of the lightning. It was like a caffeine shot after spending weeks only drinking coffee.

That started a pattern. Every couple hundred failures I would bask in the lightning as if it was a warm shower and not electricity five times hotter than the surface of the sun. I don’t know how many times it had been, but I faintly remember bathing in lightning only a hundred or so times. Of course, I had my little mental breakdowns every once in a while, but even those were a distant memory now. At some point, my mental state just declined to the point I wasn't bothered by the learning experience.

I could almost cross the garden every time. It was easy once I learned the tricks. For instance, to even take a step I had to perfectly hold my body weight and only step with the front of my foot, then shift my body weight as the rest of my foot came down. If even a part of my foot prematurely hit the ground, it would be impaled. After hundreds of times dealing with this pain of mine, I no longer even flinched as I would’ve continued. Sadly, if any part of my body became impaled it counted as a failure and I would be teleported back.

I calmly stepped off the deck, my face blank as I walked forward not even thinking about the motion. Muscle memory took over entirely. My steps were silent and I would’ve definitely reached that cute fox if nothing changed. And yet things had to change. Of course, they had to change. It would be too easy otherwise.

An eighth of the way there, the ground began to shift with each movement, changing from sand to wood, back to gravelly sand, and then to concrete. Every single step shifted the materials, causing me to change how I walked across them. There was no discernable pattern either, and the changes were random, causing me to adjust with every movement. Yet it didn’t even break my pace. This? This was child’s play compared to the later stages.

Once I reached a fourth of the way, my feet shifted. Every step from here on out would change what kind of shoe I wore. In turn, it would affect how I needed to step to avoid making noises with the varied shoes. It would not affect the piercing pains though. No, those were able to pierce through anything with little effort.

I took another step, and I was wearing clown shoes. Another, and squeaky chickens. Yet another, and just socks. I continued on, well used to making the calculations. Each step was silent as the last.

Halfway there, my attire began to change with every footfall, causing me to have to shift postures and walking styles. The changes not only affected my center of mass, but they also could make noise. The rain jackets were the worst offenders. If even my clothes made a noise, I would be forced to trip and restart.

Ah, the changing shoes and ground material didn’t stop. No. That would be too easy. The effects stacked with each progression point, making it nearly impossible to actually succeed. And yet thousands of ‘deaths’ had made me capable of crossing. Time seemed to be on my side in this cursed space.

And then I was three-fourths of the way there, passionately staring at the cute fox. She had truly been my only companion in what felt like years I had been moving along. Her gloating smiles and warm looks, which used to make me rage, drove me forward more than the thought of leaving this place. I couldn’t wait to approach her and stroke the soft moonlit fur of my choom.

I barely even noticed as items scattered across my path, causing me to change up my directions to avoid stepping on them and making noise. Everything from shattered bottles to crumpled leaves sat in front of me as I practically glided across the expanse.

And then I was there, at the edge of the rock garden. This was the final part, the final part I had been stuck on for at least eighteen lightning strikes. But I had learned from my failures. I had adapted.

A step forward changed the very gravity, distorting my posture, center of mass, and amount of muscle needed to make a quiet step. And indeed, my next step was quiet. Gravity changed once more, close to doubling what the norm was. I stepped silently. Then it lifted to what felt like a fourth of the norm. Yet my footfall was silent.

I moved, calmly making the calculations until my foot fell against the wood for the first time. I dared not breathe as I stepped onto the deck opposite the rock garden. I moved carefully; I had long learned how to step across wood without noise.

Just when I was there, my hand stretched to that glorious fur; it happened. The fox lifted her head and stared directly at me. A look flashed through her eyes, a look I hadn’t seen before in the years we spent together. Pity, perhaps. And then everything faded to black.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

I awoke, on my bed, with tears silently pooling in my eyes. I had won, and yet I never felt so defeated.

It was a long time before I moved. I just sat there, staring at the roof of my container as I ignored the noises coming from the city. But alas, all things must come to an end. My silent reprieve was shattered by the yearning of my gut and the glass texture across my throat.

I slowly slurped down ramen as I sat at a shop just outside of Viceroy Street. It turned out two real days had passed that I had laid there under the effects of the interface. I figured some kind of time dilation must’ve been in effect. I was sure, so sure I had spent at least a year of constantly failing in that abominable rock garden. I refused to believe that it had only been forty-eight hours. Two days in there just logically didn't make sense. So time dilation was my working theory at the moment.

The noodles tasted bland, as did everything else I snacked on on my way here. And snacked I did. I awoke with an insatiable hunger and thirst after waking up from two days of idleness. Unfortunately, everything tasted flavorless. Even the world looked bland, muted in its once radiant neon colors. The usual sounds and scents felt distant as if a filter was welded over my head. It was oddly nice considering how bad everything typically reeked, but very worrying. It was like I was sitting at a terminal, where everything was at an arms distance away.

With a thought the interface pulled up, showing the results of my long-time suffering.

「Name: Shiro Tsukuyomi

Traits: Fox’s Grace, Quick Healing, Insight

Stealth - 6

* Fox’s Paw

Perception 2

Data Pending - Duration Five Days」

Was it worth it? I dunno. Would I be forever traumatized by rock gardens? Most definitely. What did I learn? I learned that the fluffiness of a fox was a force that few could stand a chance against. I also finally gained a long-term goal; adopt a fox. Even if I had to fork over millions of Rayn to get one biogenetically made by the Agrican Foundation, I would. Just the though of petting luxurious fox fur put my heart at ease. Probably Stockholm Syndrome if I had to guess.

But that was a long time coming considering how broke I was. For now? Absolom Clinic. I really, really needed Nael to take a look at me. I most definitely had something wrong with my head. Things wouldn’t be so- so muted otherwise. That, and he had texted me yesterday about checking on my wrist. It felt like so long ago that I was injured.

I had actually gotten several texts over the past two days, which was weird. Usually, it was just radio silence. One of them had been from Ishimaru; he thanked me for a job well done and told me the Matriarch sent her regards. It was a worrying message. Or at least it would’ve been, but I just couldn’t bring myself to care about much of anything anymore.

My best choom also reached out, asking to meet up. She was in town for a couple of weeks and wanted to hang out while she could. Something even poked through the fog holding my heart captive: guilt. She must’ve texted just after I entered that weird pavilion and it had been two days of no reply. I texted her back and told her we could meet up later tomorrow. Still waiting on a reply, but that was fine. I made her wait, so it's only right I waited.

Of course, I also received a couple dozen spam and scam that arrived on the daily. Most of them were instantly deleted, but there were a few I took the time to appreciate the creativity of. For instance, one person had sent me a message about a trove of uncovered Aetherium in the Eye Sea. He just needed some funding to go and retrieve it. Creative, yes, but entirely bullshit. Everyone knows Aetherium stopped existing on this planet back during the Aetherial Concourse. What a gonk.

A low-pitched rumble skipped along the streets, causing me to look up. Up so far above, a flying vehicle the size of a bus flitted above the buildings as it flew south. I didn’t recognize its model, but I did recognize the spear and shield logo of Sentinel Corp. It chugged along, swiftly making its way further to the south.

Now, if this was Downtown or Portside I wouldn’t think anything of it. Flyers of all kinds were down over there, probably as a show of strength or something else having to do with politics. Here though? This was Little Yukoto. The only flyers here were the occasional Medevacs from Medtech Solutions. Even those weren’t all that common considering the price for a single trip.

I finished off my bowl and paid the chef before walking down Viceroy Street. The right alley appeared under the neon glare and I slunk my way through. Even now, free from that cursed garden, I couldn’t bring myself to make a noise. It was almost as if my muscles refused to even acknowledge the command to step loudly.

I startled a kid as I walked beside him and came across the aged willow tree in the courtyard. I moved over to Absolom Clinic. Somehow, as silent as I was now, Nael seemed to immediately know I was there as his head shot up. “Hey, kid! You uh- you okay? You look a little shell shocked…”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just a bit shaken.” I tried to smile. It took far more effort than I remember to simply crease my lips. Did it even used to take effort? It was a natural expression, and yet my muscles felt half paralyzed by phantom pains.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Nael sat his book down and slid over to the surgical chair. He really was the best Medech; able to spot an injury even if it wasn't physical.

“Thanks.” I sat down and simply just stared at his concerned face. This was dumb. What would I even say? I got sucked into a mystical realm and tortured for years? Oh, but I love foxes now, so it's all okay! And don't worry, it's likely to happen again in the future!

“You don’t have to speak, kid. I understand.” He leaned back into his chair and looked up to the roof. “I’ve seen something similar in my long years in the Medech field. I won’t ask you what happened, but if you ever need someone to talk to, my door is open.” He paused for a moment. ”Or my DMs, as the kids say.”

I chuckled at his joke. Everyone knows ‘DMs’ died with the K-10 convention back in ‘44. His infectious chuckle joined mine, and soon I began laughing harder, tears coming to my eyes as I just laughed and laughed. It was relieving in a way, releasing the tension built up. It wasn’t even a funny joke, and yet mirth snuck out into bouts of guffaws.

My chuckles faded, though my smile remained without the effort it took to put it up. “Thanks, doc. I needed that.”

He ruffled my hair. “Don’t mention it, kid. Now then, why don’t I check on that wrist of yours? It looked to be doing well. Oh, and you still have that bug?”

I settled down as he gave me a checkup. I still wasn’t a hundred percent, but I was feeling far better than I had been.