*Snap*

A second passes, and another *Poof* sounds at the same spot, the old and new dust clouds intersecting.

He's back, and I assume we have only a minute left.

"So, is that you?" I continue questioning the rude cat.

"Yes. Meow."

I can see Mike is visibly uncomfortable with this. His eyes and the grimace on his face make it obvious. Another thing that doesn't bind him and Astrid.

I sigh.

"What should I do with this information?" I shake my head.

"What do you even want from me? Why me?" I ask, looking him directly in his blue-yellow eyes, noticing his long whiskers.

"Meow. Statue. Find." The cat struggles to speak but repeats the words from our second encounter.

"Pocco, what are you up to? What do you need from Mark? Is it the statue of another godling?" Astrid interrupts.

"Time." He responds. I open my eyes wide. What is this?

"Do you need more time?" I'm confused.

"Yes. Meow."

"Time to spend with us?" I ask him directly, then glance at the others.

"Meow." He confirms.

"The smithing godling mentioned one of the brothers and a pet—could it be the godling that has Pocco as a pet? What do you all think?"

Mike leans back against the hood of the yellow Hummer, one leg raised on the front chrome bumper.

Astrid nods, absorbing all the information.

But Harald... I notice he pinches the skin on his left hand with two fingers, likely checking if he's dreaming.

"Why would you want to spend more t.." I stop mid-sentence, realizing my mistake.

"So where is this statue, Pocco?" I ask louder, trying to cover up what I was about to say.

"Sand. Desert." He struggles with the "s" sounds.

*Poof*

He vanishes again, leaving only a dust cloud behind.

Astrid sighs.

"We can discuss this over the soup." The old mentor lightens the mood.

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After a warm discussion around the fire, we decided crossing the desert will be too risky.

Instead, it would be better to visit the settlement I mentioned and look for green berries along the way.

Finally, the usual night routine begins, though I feel an overwhelming discomfort.

I can't stand going a day without a shower or brushing my teeth at least three times. Now, with a scarred, dirty, and smelly body, I bury myself in the pile of leaves I made two days ago—like an animal.

At least the fatty meat soup I drank from the silver pitcher left a good taste in my mouth.

Mike tends to Astrid as she settles into her sleeping bagm yet I feel a bit more fortunate then them, with my ability Focus to generate heat as an extra function.

As the night cools, I release my power calmly, training its fluidity again. The warmth around my feet is just enough to make me feel relaxed.

I imagine myself by a stream, bathing and drinking clear water.

New ideas spark—I should submerge myself in cold water and test my power further. Will my body cool down, letting me use more energy? Will the bandages hold against my expanding skin? Or will the water heat up?

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My thoughts scatter, my mind in chaos. But after the initial excitement about my power and its possibilities, I again remember my only family—my mom.

Am I dead? Is this all just a dream?

What if some drug released in my brain is making me experience my final, hallucinatory trip? Is my body lying in a trench in that forest, rotting away? Or has someone found me?

Well, yeah, definitely. It wasn’t medieval times back there.

I imagine my funeral, hearing my mom—the only family I have—crying out loud. Maybe even classmates or teachers, the ones who liked me at least, attending.

But if I really disappeared without a trace, there must be a massive police search happening. I sigh.

"Okay, just shut up already!"

At this rate, I’ll never get proper rest.

*Deep exhale*

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Now I’m lying in a comfy bed. Looking around, I see the metal tower’s interior, and the sturdy ceiling.

I feel safe and cozy, with a box full of food nearby. My plate armor is on display, my weapon clean and ready on the nearest table.

The lawn I claimed is fenced with custom logs, a stream of water flowing close by into a small pond where I can bathe.

Firewood is neatly stacked, and the area is clean.

The grass is cut, stone pathways lead to outdoor seating and a fireplace.

I have a garden that provides for me, and I go hunting whenever I want.

I keep acid flatheads captive in metal cages, harvesting their acid to make glass bottle bombs.

Terrifying and awesome at the same time.

This is my tower, my lawn, my domain. I can do whatever I want—train, explore, get stronger.

If I ever want a woman, at least I have something to offer.

With these wonderful, unrealistic thoughts, I finally fall asleep.

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*Intense screams and cries from a woman* wake me up with my heart racing.

"What the..." I open my eyes, seeing nothing but darkness. Harald is gone, and Mike is crouched over Astrid, who’s screaming so loudly her cries echo through the sinkhole.

I gather myself and rush over.

"Where the heck is the old man?"

*Slam* I hear a loud car door slam.

"What’s going on?" Harald yells, sounding groggy.

"Oh boy, it must be the acid. I knew it from the beginning."

Reacting quickly is one of my strengths.

With my inventory open, I carefully retrieve the acid bottle, stored near my clear water supply.

Using my dirty shirt, I pop the cork.

"Hold her, Mike!" Harald orders, doing something unexpected—he yanks off one of Astrid’s socks from her stump.

She screams so loudly, tears streak her face, and then faints on the spot.

It seems the flesh had stuck to the fabric, and he accidentally pulled on the nerves.

The sight of the dangling pieces of flesh horrifies me.

Searching for the right spot, I prepare to apply the acid.

Her almost lifeless body makes Harald panic, and Mike starts freaking out too.

He gently slaps her face, calling her name.

"Move aside," I tell them, holding the bottle like it’s a live grenade.

I try to pour a tiny amount, extremely carefully, onto one piece of flesh.

But before I make a drop, she jolts back to life.

Her eyes shoot open in pure panic, realizing what’s happening. She sees all three of us leaning over her and starts screaming in agony again.

In the chaos, I pour about a bottle cap’s worth onto her messy stump. It starts bubbling and hissing immediately, the smell of rotting flesh filling the air.

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Suddenly, she stops screaming and exhales in relief.

Everything seems to settle.

She sits up, rolling up her dirty sock, staring into the abyss.

"I can’t do this again," she says, exhausted from the pain, her face expressionless.

"Either pour it on me earlier or just kill me. Sigh."

"Harald, don’t you have a stopwatch or something?" I ask, frowning at the situation.

"Ugh, yes. I’ve got a digital watch. The time is off, but it might help us count." He answers sadly.

"Astrid, my girl, we’ll need you to go through this one more time. It says it’s 3 o’clock now."

"How long we’ve slept, I don’t know, but it seems the acid’s painkiller effect lasted about half a day."

"I’m up next, guys," I announce, holding the acid bottle.

"Harald, what about the watch battery? Can you set an alarm?" I ask.

"Aah, I think I changed the battery half a year ago. Should be good for another half a year or more."

Phew, at least there’s that, I think, sitting tightly with the open bottle in hand.

----------------------------------------

"It should happen soon, any moment now. I can feel it." I gaze at my burnt flesh and missing finger, searching for a spot to sacrifice.

Now! Come on! I can feel it already!

Looking at the rotten, burnt flesh, a burning sensation overtakes me.

Is this real pain or just a placebo? Damn it!

My right hand begins to shake. This is it! I don’t know if it’s heat or cold—I can’t distinguish pain from anxiety anymore.

----------------------------------------

It finally kicks in.

"Aaaargh!" I scream.

All I can do is yell at the top of my lungs.

Despite my body being rested from hours of deep sleep, I know it’s too damaged to not hurt all over.

I had gotten used to feeling numb, without pain or discomfort, but now I feel alive—in turmoil and despair.

My shaking hand drips the liquid onto the piece of flesh.

It melts instantly, evaporating, and the stench of rotting meat hits my nose.

My pain intensifies, but I know I have to endure.

"Mark! Let me take the bottle!" Harald offers, extending a helping hand. Shaking from the pain, I barely manage to hand him the bottle.

"Fuck! Just make it stop!" I scream through clenched teeth.

This feels like an eternity! There’s no way Astrid’s lasted this long.

"Tsk!"

I even start coughing while grunting.

My body shakes violently, and the pain isn't going anywhere.