The bed felt, small. Inadequate, when faced with my new bulk.

My feet were hanging a little ways off the mattress while my broadened back took up as much room as two normal-sized people would have.

The blanket also felt wrong.

My usual custom had been to wrap myself tightly with it, until I was as snug as a caterpillar in its cocoon. Yet the large, thick mantle had been made small in proportion to the rest of me. Leading to a rather peculiar predicament where I was tussling around the cushy softness of sheets and pillows without actually finding a sweet spot to relax in.

'Damn it. I should be dead tired after all that running around I did today. I literally fought against two boss monsters, unlocked magic, filled an entire town's sewer system with mutated abominations and healed a bunch of people after the fact. This doesn't make any sense.'

I had to lay there, in the end.

Face up and arms clutching the blanket for about three or four hours. Before my body entered a slightly more relaxed state. One where time seemed to slip by more easily. Its passage bringing a queer and unnatural sense of calmness and relief.

Even then, I was still aware of my surroundings. Still very much actively thinking about what I'd done. About what might have happened to that town if I hadn't done what I did. About the very real possibility that all of them might have died without ever growing cores if I hadn't agreed to Mr. Robertson's proposal.

'But doing it this way means their kids will be weaker than mine. For generations upon generations. They won't be able to use magic to the same degree as me or any children I might have. How will that shape their lives, a hundred years from now? What about two hundred years from now?'

My brain came up with multiple scenarios. None of which I liked.

'No. I shouldn't think about it like that. I saved lives. I know I did. The people in that town will at least have a chance now. That's something, at least. Ah shit. I don't want to be thinking about this. Why can't my brain go to sleep already? Is this a level 1 thing? Is sleep not going to be a thing anymore?'

I hoped not. But couldn't completely rule out the possibility. Drew and Ramji had casually mentioned that they could stay awake for days at a time on multiple occasions. I had assumed they'd meant that they could do it. Not that it was somehow normal around here.

Not being able to rest normally would suck, to say the least.

'But then again, when was anything normal around here?'

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Morning came too soon for my liking. I still hadn't caught a wink of sleep when the first rays of sunshine peeked through my bedroom window. I cursed, briefly considering moving to one of the bigger rooms below and dismissing the notion out of hand.

'Its just a little light. It never killed anyone.'

I got up.

Oddly focused and alert for such an early hour. Then I went to my washroom and had a nice, hot shower. Indulging in the steaming, scalding water as it cleansed my spirit as well as my body. My new muscles groaning with joy as they felt the skin above them warming up.

Yet, as hot as the water was, it didn't burn me. Merely soaking into my skin so that it felt as if I was being tempered. As if I were a sword that needed to be cleansed of impurities.

I'd showered the night before as well, but that had been a quick, utilitarian wash. This was a far more relaxed experience. One that I found more and more pleasant by the second.

'Maybe coach Russell wasn't kidding when he mentioned his hot tub. This feels like heaven.'

I took a deep, calming breath as the steaming droplets crashed against me. My muscles losing more and more tension the longer I stayed in there.

I found my fingers reaching towards the handle on reflex. Looking to turn up the heat just a little bit further. Then I cursed under my breath as I realized that was a hot as it would go.

'Maybe I should demand a sauna for my payment instead? Coach Russell did imply that no amount of luxury was off the table. It wouldn't have to be a big one in any case. Just large enough for me.'

Definitely something to consider for later.

After that, I dressed myself. Or, I tried to.

Only now realizing that the only clothes that fit were the set that Mr. Robertson and coach Russell had given me when I woke up at the hospital after growing my core. And that those had been left in the laundry machine due to the particular musk they'd obtained from the sewers.

'And I don't know how I feel about wearing those ever again. Aunt Cheryl might just decide to burn them if she comes across them. I don't know that I could blame her either. It would be a mercy, considering what the fabrics had been exposed to.'

I'd been outgrowing my shirts already due to my training regiment and this was the final nail in the coffin. Trying to put one of them on felt like I was an adult trying on toddler clothes. They kept ripping in half or tearing open at the seams no matter how gently I tried to guide them. The mundane materials unable to contain my growing mass.

To make matters worse, the same was true for my pants. And my underpants.

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I hadn't noticed until now, but the boxers I'd put on last night were mutilated beyond recognition. Seams and strings giving way at several angles underneath. The stretchy waistband having been pushed far beyond its limits and the rest of the thing was barely hanging on thanks to a mixture of hopes and prayers.

I cursed. Frantically trying to find a solution that didn't involve indecent exposure charges.

'I could use the Analyzer to call someone. Uncle Uter could go into town and bring me back clothes that fit.'

I dismissed the notion as soon as it came up. True, it would be the most logical course of action, but Marco had warned me about the bracelet's monitoring software more than once. Send a message and someone high up in the Robertson household would always be able to pull it up at a later date. It might have seemed silly to some, but I didn't want anyone else knowing about my current predicament.

'Least of all Elsie.'

It was bad enough that she refused to leave me well enough alone. The last thing I needed was another reason for her to harass me.

So, I did the next best thing. Going to the door and loudly knocking on it.

That led to yet another problem for little old me. While the doors leading outside and all the doors in the bunker-style floors were made of solid steel and Dungeon materials, the doors in the normal upstairs sections of the house were made of wood. Thick and solid wood, with solid hinges. Enough to last for a long, long time.

Unless someone of my level hit it without minding their strength.

I hadn't even put that much force into the knocks, but there it was anyway. A big hole, right at what most normal people would consider eye-level.

'Oh man. This sucks so much. I swear, Mr. Robertson better be ready to pay up that mansion he talked about. I'm gonna need a whole slew of custom-made furniture. And heavy-duty washing machines. And clothes. And workout equipment while I'm at it. If I'm going to be some shady tycoon's henchman from now on, then I'll at least be sure to receive adequate compensation.'

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Lighter than uncle Uter's. Not as light as Eva's.

"Cecil!? Cecil are you okay!? I heard a crash!"

"I'm okay auntie. Just, had a little accident that's all. Also I need you to get me..."

"AAAAAAAAAGH!"

I cringed and peeked through the recently-made aperture.

The face aunt Cheryl made when she first laid eyes on me could have served as a horror movie poster. Her mouth frozen solid mid-shriek while her hands cradled the sided of her face.

"Who the fuck are you!? What have you done with my nephew!?"

"Language auntie! Eva might hear you. Its me. Look at my face. Didn't uncle Uter tell you anything?"

She blinked. Several times in quick succession. Her expressions resembling that of a startled cat that hadn't yet decided whether to flee or to rake the offending party with its claws. Her mascara only adding to the surreal atmosphere.

She swallowed a breath before regaining her composure. Her frame still shaking slightly as she addressed me once more.

"He said you'd undergone a growth spurt yesterday. Because of the magic." Her right eye twitched with what might have been irritation. Or barely-suppressed rage.

"I see that he and I need to have a long conversation about what qualifies as a growth spurt and about the values of proper communication."

'Sorry uncle.' I thought to myself. Already imagining how that particular conversation was going to go.

"Never mind that now. What happened to the door?"

"I, opened a hole. By accident. I was trying to call you or uncle Uter over. I, uh. Need new clothes."

"Yeah. I can imagine. What were you wearing yesterday?"

"Some clothes from the hospital. I put them in the wash last night because they smelled. I, didn't think of what would happen in the morning."

"Clearly." She said. Rubbing her temple with a hand.

"Well, you're young and going though a lot. I guess forgetting about something like this is normal. I'll bring you your breakfast today so just wait here until Uter comes back with new clothes."

She gave me an assessing look.

"I'm guessing your new size is something along the lines of 4XL or 5XL. We might have to get some 6XL ones too. In case you keep growing. As for the door … I don't know. I'll bring a cardboard box and tape it over the hole. That'll have to do until we can get the door repaired or replaced. You might have to move down to the basement floors if we can't get a contractor though."

"That's fine. Thank you auntie."

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Breakfast was decent that day. Sunny-side eggs with toast and butter. I gobbled up a whole plate and was surprised to find myself hungry for more. Aunt Cheryl was nice enough to give me a healthy helping of seconds. And later and even more generous helping of thirds.

After that, she said she'd need what was left for Eva's breakfast.

"You'll have to make do until lunch. The fridge is almost empty and I can't fix you up anything decent with what's left right now. In fact, I might send you out for groceries as soon as you're dressed. I'll give you some spending money so you can eat on the way if you want."

"Thanks aunt Cheryl."

Her features smoothened out at that. Her face donning an expression that was filled with melancholy.

"No problem honey. And, I'm sorry I can't do more right now."

I sighed.

"No worries. I know its not something that happens every day."

I went back to bed after that. Trying once more to nap. If only for a few minutes.

No such luck.

So, I went over to my PC and tried to boot up a game.

Nothing that relied on reflexes of course. Those had been the first games to lose their appeal as my stats got higher.

Instead, I booted up an RTS. Sending waves of self-replicating drones over to the fungal marines in Psychic Rampart 2. It was entertaining.

For a while.

Until the simulated battles started reminding me of my own monsters. The ones I'd grown and shaped down in the cold sewers. While I hadn't been controlling them, there had been a connection between them and I. A rage we both shared. A hatred towards weakness. Both within and without.

A certain indescribable... hunger.

A pulse that seemed to come from the pit of my stomach and the back of my head at the same time.

My stomach roiled right on cue and I found myself pressing the keys a little too quickly. With a little bit too much force.

And just like that, I needed a new keyboard. Great.

I leaned back on the chair. Groaning with frustration.

Then I looked at my right hand. Contemplating last night's events once more.

'Those people might have been able to get even stronger. If my monsters were stronger. If I had more control over them. I could, I don't know. Form them up into more precise arrangements. Send them in with pre-programmed orders and carefully considered instructions. Like units in the game. Real Time Strategy.'

It would require a way to give them orders. A step further from the violent stunning effects Mr. Robertson could pull off. That power was purely a hypothetical, but it somehow didn't feel out of reach.

I poured magic into my right hand then. Feeling the warmth spread out from my core and over to the limb.

I focused on growing claws and sure enough, my fingertips lengthened and calcified. Re-constructing themselves into natural weapons.

I focused on turning it back after that and wasn't disappointed as the changes undid themselves.

Then I took it one step further. Growing a vine from the palm of my hand.

The plant grew right from the middle. As if it had always been there, waiting for the right amount of moisture and sunshine.

"Talk to me." I commanded.

Confused signals returned to me. Vague impressions of undefined needs and wants. Like the cries of a babe in need of attention.

"What do you need?" I asked it.

More confusion. More nonsensical feedback.

I was talking to it, of that there could be no doubt. The issue was that my new creation was far too basic and undeveloped. It couldn't process what I was saying. Never mind a response.

'Its a start though.' I thought to myself. A smug smile making its way across my face.

'Its the start of something great.'