Edge’s body went soaring into the cave half a heartbeat before the world disappeared in an ocean of crackling light.

Boom!

The thunder was so intense that it blew out his eardrums, leaving him deaf before regeneration kicked in. The shockwave sent him rolling along the cavern floor, until he struck the far wall and came to a stop in a jumbled tangle of limbs.

In that moment, he was convinced that he’d been hit. That he’d taken enough damage that he wouldn’t survive. His body burned, and blood ran down both sides of his face.

But then Edge took a ragged breath, followed by another, and realized that he was still alive. He had dodged the reaper’s scythe by the narrowest of margins and leapt to safety with milliseconds to spare.

He lay there panting, stunned and dazed, terrified and exhilarated, as lightning landed in front of the cavern’s mouth time and time again. The thunder rolled through him, roaring like a living being. It sounded frustrated, like a predator denied its prey.

The storm raged outside as Edge crawled deeper into the enclosure. Eventually, the seeker lightning gave up and stopped targeting him. He could see bolts falling all across the plains, inflicting carnage upon the wildlife that had been too slow to find shelter.

Ten minutes later, it was all over.

The deep blue storm clouds retreated into the distance as quickly as they had arrived, leaving warm sunlight shining over the prairie once more. The only way he could tell that the storm had rolled through was the scattered patches of smoke where the grass was ablaze.

The world seemed so quiet in the wake of the cacophony that it felt unnatural. Surreal. Edge was exhausted, scared, and overstressed. He wasn’t in any shape for another confrontation right now, so he decided to stay put for at least a few hours before heading back onto the plains.

He crawled to the back of the cave and shoved his body into a corner where he could face the entrance. Then he lay there for a good long while, recovering from the long run, stress, and sheer intensity of surviving the storm.

Eventually, Edge began to breathe easy, letting him relax a jaw he hadn’t realized was clenched. Come down from the adrenaline-soaked hypervigilance the experience had evoked.

Small change of plan. The next time I cycle-up, I should take a few points of perception. I need to see danger coming before it sees me, especially if I’m too slow to escape.

When he sent his awareness into his core, his reservoir was about two thirds full. He’d spent half of his tank healing the damage from being pummeled by the storm, and it was slowly filling up again. It was a lucky break by any reckoning. If that lightning had landed just a little bit closer, there wouldn’t be anything left of me but dust in the wind.

When his head was clear and his body was free from pain, Edge took a swig from his canteen, then poked his head out of the cave. It was eerily quiet on the prairie, especially compared to the barrage of thunder he’d endured.

Other than the wind stirring the grass, he couldn’t hear anything at all. No buzzing of insects or chirping of birds. Every animal and beast had gone to ground to ride out the storm. Most were still cowering in their burrows, shaken by the experience. Even the mana flowing over the plains seemed timid, like enduring the turbulent weather had wearied the land itself.

Part of him was afraid to step outside again. But Edge pushed past his fear and left the cavern, casting his gaze across the grasslands. He would take a good look around, then decide his next move.

If he was fortunate, the rest of his journey would prove uneventful. He wasn’t counting on it. Except for finding Skill-Eater, his luck had never been that good.

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On that note, when Edge looked outside, he grew quite confused. He kept searching for a familiar landmark, but he simply couldn't find one. He eventually realized what was going on.

The anomaly changed the terrain even more than I thought. The fingers got moved to the southeast too. I’m more than a day away from Puppet Town, if it’s still there at all.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he’d missed dinner, breakfast, and lunch since he had devoured the mushroom. Any way that he looked at it, he was going to have to find something else to eat before long, or he would start growing weak on top of uncomfortable.

While this was a potential shelter, there weren’t many plants growing in the rocky soil around the base of the fingers, and he needed to make it back to civilization as quickly as he could. Worse, the cavern’s stone walls would protect him from the elements, but they would do nothing to shield him if a predator caught wind of his presence.

Safe behind the warded walls of Puppet Town, Edge could plan out his next move, grow more familiar with his new core and the skills that he’d eaten, and purchase proper gear to survive in the wild.

While his lizard brain was terrified that the storm would come back, he knew that his fear was unfounded. Despite their freakishly animate qualities, living storms were formed from mana-laden moisture blown by the breeze. They rode the atmosphere, and always kept moving.

Thanks to his desperate sprint, Edge had made it to the Guide’s Fingers far faster than he’d expected. Even after his rest in the cave, he still had at least three or four hours left before sunset.

As he looked out over the plains, he decided that it was a perfect time to resume his journey. The local wildlife was subdued, providing a bit of extra safety in the wake of unexpected danger. He would have better luck in foraging in the deep grass or another grove too.

A two-hour march would see him to the border of a wooded sub-biome. A place that would meet all his needs. His destination decided, he began walking northeast. He was heading toward the closest grove, planning to spend a second night up in the branches.

The next hour was blessedly uneventful. Edge put some miles beneath his boots with no unpleasant surprises.

He took advantage of the opportunity to start working on his makeshift sword, crafting away as he walked. When he took a closer look, he saw that one claw was better than the other. It was longer, thicker, and sharper than its mate. Hello, new weapon, he ran his fingers across the surface. Pleased to meet you.

First, he found a few sticks that were round, straight, and the right length for a grip. Enough to encircle the base of the reaver’s claw. Then he used his knife to gather stalks of yellow grass, careful not to slice his fingers in the process.

The yellow grass was a lot tougher than the white and wouldn’t break as easily under the strain. He might get a few small cuts while swinging the blade, but regeneration would heal them quickly.

When everything was ready, Edge placed the sticks down first, arranged in a circle around the base of the claw. He bound the makeshift handle tight using long strips of grass and some scraps from his shirt to provide a bit of padding.

He gave the black blade an experimental swing, savoring the way that the weapon tore through the air. It was a temporary solution at best, but it was a lot better than fighting for his life with a utility knife.

Edge had to admit it was a crude job. The craftsmen in town would laugh till they cried if he showed it to them. But it should last a few swings before falling apart, at least when using the strength of his arm. The grip would probably come undone the first time he tried slashing with it, so he would save that option as a last resort.

When he was done, he secured the claw-blade to his pack with an adjustable strap and continued on his way. While he walked, Edge kept the fingers at his back to guide his path, planning out his next move to pass the time. Once he was rested and geared, he would return to the plains to start hunting in earnest, taking his next steps along the myriad paths of power.

He started reviewing every skill that the local beasts used, imagining how each would interact with the powers he already had. Edge had a unique opportunity to plan out his skillset, one with the potential for synergy and variety beyond anyone else on the planet.

It was the chance of a lifetime, and he refused to squander it by making subpar investments. Eating the first skills he came across might be best in the short-term, but it would bottleneck his advancement in the long.

Fantasizing about the various powers he might one day call his own was a pleasant pastime, but he didn’t let it distract him. He kept a careful eye on his surroundings, doing his best to make sure that nothing dangerous was lurking nearby.

Edge found a small bush not long after, with a few ripe berries hanging from the branches. They were tasty and sweet, and he thoroughly enjoyed them. It was barely a snack, but still far better than nothing.

Three hours and twenty miles later, he still couldn’t spot the grove. He must have veered a few degrees to one side or the other, despite his best efforts. While the fingers were a perfect navigational tool when he was heading straight toward them, it wasn’t nearly as precise when heading away.

Ok then, time for plan B. Look around and take the best option offered.