Again. My eyes closed so tightly I imagine I will have permanent wrinkles afterwards.

I pumped a lot of it into my chest and arms when pushing that Hummer up.

It was definitely a heart attack or complete heart failure before.

Without shifting to my arms now, I believe I can squeeze my heart so badly, that it will simply stop working!

Focus. I start to think about it and imagine all the muscle mass shifting towards my chest. I want it to literally choke my heart.

Still laying on the marble ground in the white dust, I start to feel like an elephant is sitting on my chest—and that is a good sign.

After all, I might be able to suicide without pain and whenever I want, thus avoiding any unwanted situation.

A giant trying to squeeze me like a banana? Watching my body melt into goo and then seeing a flathead slurping it off the ground? Getting impaled by a bug's horn and slowly bleeding out? Or even worse, getting stuck somewhere or ending up in some sort of prison?

I can easily pop my heart in any situation and appear at the save point.

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

All these thoughts go through my mind, as a distant ringing in my ears transforms into a monotone, high-pitched whining.

I can hear my heart beating and my blood flowing through my veins. The frequency lowers and lowers.

*Tschk*

I grunt and struggle to push.

A few more seconds of focusing on my goal, the beating stops.

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

Eyes closed, body relaxed in a lying position.

*Inhale manually*

I can still breathe, and I can still feel the hard surface underneath me. It’s not particularly cold; the air is fresh and cozy, the temperature is pleasant, nothing that should catch my attention.

“Wait!” Am I feeling my clothes on?

As I slowly wiggle around, I can feel that my body is back in a healthy condition.

My arms don’t hurt anymore, and I turn my palm down to the hard surface. Rubbing it gently, I quickly understand this is a stone floor or pavement—whatever it is, it's not marble, since the surface feels coarser than glossy.

Refusing to open my eyes yet, I analyze the smell of the air around me. It has definitely changed, becoming more moist and damp. It is still fresh, but now I can smell old buildings.

This is definitely not any of the fire bowls I’ve visited before.

*Blink*

So I finally open my eyes and see an open, cloudy sky. Still not moving my head, I shift my eyes around, seeing only the rectangular sky surrounded by tall walls made of what seems like weathered sandstone.

The stone is old but well maintained.

Wiggling my head from side to side, I notice where I am.

I was either transported to or reborn in this place.

I lay in some sort of natural formation, a rocky rectangular hole like a quarry, but surrounded by castle walls. The castle seems built around and on top of it. I slowly blink to comprehend what I am seeing. The walls are partially covered with ornaments around the edges and rims.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Many windows with arched tops are scattered across the tall walls. It feels surreal, yet cozy. The architecture reminds me of an Arabic style mixed with something medieval, mainly due to the color and material of the stone.

It feels warm and welcoming, despite the lack of music, voices, or even wind.

The cloudy sky hides the true time of day. It might be dusk or nearly night, as the moon and stars occasionally peek through the fast-moving clouds.

This scene might be haunting to some, but not to me.

The quiet, the solitude, and the empty vastness are relaxing.

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

After initially recovering, I sit there and turn around a few times, examining the quarry I’m in.

Finally standing on my feet, I start to examine my body—a wide smile spreads across my face as I see that my body is untouched once again.

My missing pinky finger and almost half of my palm are magically back.

My dirty, sweaty clothes are still on me, but my body is super clean, like I was reborn.

Suddenly, the dirty rags make me uncomfortable, as I feel bad for polluting my newly clean body. Quickly removing my sneakers, which seem to be nearing their end, I check my toes.

“Ah, fuck.” My pinky toe on my right foot is missing after all, but I don’t remember confirming it.

So where the hell am I?

Now I start being good old Mark—speculating and letting my mind spiral into never-ending chaos.

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

The huge pitch-black castle or mansion or whatever it was when I was gliding through the air on Rhinoceros is the first thing that comes to mind. It’s the only similar structure I’ve seen so far.

The sandstone and everything here is orangish-yellow—this must be somewhere in the desert, I quickly assume.

*Inhaling deeply*, I use my arms to support myself from behind as I sit there.

So what happened?

Either I was punished for dying inside the realm of the dead and was randomly spawned in some remote place, or I was reborn in a different world, as it seems I died in the second one.

I keep shaking my head in disbelief.

No, no, no, this can’t be. What if I simply died normally and respawned in the desert? The fire bowl could have been moved or covered in sand, and maybe...

“Are you stupid?” I ask myself, sitting in the rectangular hole about the size of a regular house, gazing up at the sky and letting my eyes wander across the tall sandstone walls, faintly illuminated by the moon and stars.

If this really is another world, I can prove it easily!

*Inhale*

I grunt as I jump to my feet. Once again, I glance at my arms—unscarred and in perfect condition.

“Focus!”

The warm feeling spreads through my arm, and the familiar bloating begins. I quickly halt it, retracting the power.

I want to enjoy my healed arms for as long as possible, knowing I’ll break them again before gaining enough points to enhance them with rough skin and endurance.

“Inventory!”

*Bleep*

“Woohoo! I’m not dead! I’m not dead at all!”

*Fwoosh*

*Thud*

To feel as safe as possible, I grasp my weapon.

The leathery, cold horn handle from the massive bug, with the poorly attached hammerhead, is enough for me.

I swing it a few times before my Focus auto-activates to support my arm.

“Good, good.” The icon of the Hummer sits steadily in the slot right next to where my hammer was.

I already know why I took the hammer out.

There’s only one way up, and the quarry is deep enough that I might not be able to jump and grab the edge with my hands.

But on the other hand, my hammer could be a great asset for climbing out of this hole.

There are two ways to do it—either I smash the stone wall and create footholds, or I jump up to the edge and hook it with my hammerhead, pulling myself up.

I turn to the shortest of the walls, as the quarry is uneven taking a few solid steps forward.

Rubbing the wall with my left palm, I notice how easily the stone sands down.

“This might not be very strong. What do you think?” I raise a corner of my mouth while glancing at my hammer.

Since it’s enchanted and part of it came from a real living creature, I don’t mind talking to it occasionally.

Why not add a spin for extra impact?

*Fwoosh*

*Bonk*

The hammerhead buries itself inside the rocky wall as I smack it.

I wiggle it free, grunting as I try to keep my Focus level low. Crumbs and dust fall out as I unstick it.

*Cough*

The dust I inhale makes me cough immediately.

“Good.” One test done, but do I really need to do it this way? I wonder why I didn’t try the jumping method first.

Probably because if I fail to catch the edge, I’ll fall from three or four meters, right onto the hard surface.

With my luck, I’d probably land on my head, crack my skull, and die, while already dead from dying before.

“Wait!” I look up, raising my eyebrows. There’s one thing I forgot to test—a little jerk.

Without hesitation, I *Snap* my fingers.

*Poof*

I’ve never been so happy to see him, but this might be the first time.

“Meow.”

“Yeah! Meow, meow.” I respond.

“So here I am. Dead while I was dead. What was all that about?” I ask the floating fluff ball.

“Well,” he answers with his funny little voice.

“Well? Now you’re starting sentences properly?”

“Of power.”