Other than the waist-high grass, the area in front of me was relatively open, with only a few hills and small lakes dotting the landscape. The grass itself was more rigid than I had expected, more like tiny stalks of bamboo than anything you would find in your front yard. The ends of each blade of grass were split into multiple thin threads topped by cottony wisps of blue that fluttered and spiraled up into the air as a slight breeze picked up from the east.

The air around me was filled by these small particles as if someone had made a wish by blowing upon a giant dandelion, sending millions of tiny cerulean florets into the sky. I hesitated to enter the cloud, but I was anxious about rejoining my friends, and the substance didn’t immediately appear dangerous. Even my mild pollen allergy was unaffected.

Wait, I thought, do I even still have allergies? I knew the system had changed me at a fundamental level, but it was impossible to know every detail of those changes.

Wading through the field did little to slow me down, most likely due to my strength, or Might, being nearly double what it had been before ‘stats’ were a realistic way of measuring human capabilities.

I started off with a steady walk, carefully taking each step and occasionally stopping to scan for danger. I still had unpleasant memories of when Catayla had revealed a peaceful meadow full of flowers had instead been a trap for a carnivorous monster made of rotating teeth and bone smashing vines. I couldn’t even trust the grass not to kill me.

I missed the blue-scaled scout, she had a quiet competence that I enjoyed having on my side. Still, I was glad she was with Tiller and the others, as she was the main reason I was convinced the group had made it across the river. Without her, none of us would have made it.

My plan to find them was simply to search the area around the riverbank near where they should have landed. I had judged that they were likely in a small range that ran from the remains of the Ravenel Bridge down to Patriots Point, where the Naval monument, the USS Yorktown, was still moored.

If they had crossed back to the downtown side of the river, I would simply make the trip back across to join them. This seemed unlikely, however, as I knew Catayla would have pressed them to continue the mission, with or without me.

I was headed north and slightly east across the golf course, a path I knew should bring me almost directly to where I needed to be.

Navigating through the grass was made difficult due to the terrain changes that blocked my view of any easily identified landmarks. To my east were tall rocky hills and thick forestation that had replaced an area that was once nothing but flat, dusty land containing only a few sparse shrubs and loose pebbles. This blocked my view of the bridge and the Yorktown, forcing me to rely on memory to plan my route.

To the west was an inlet across from which were the ruins of an old residential neighborhood that had been constructed from cookie-cutter McMansions decorated with tacky Greek-style pillars and thin brick facades, now mostly buried in earth and vegetation. Creepers grew up over the crumbled homes as if seeking to drag what little remained of human civilization back into the dirt.

At some point, the neighborhood had been torched. Ash covered the ground like snow, lightly brushing across the dark browns of soil and the vibrant greens of freshly grown plant life. Brittle wooden boards, broken and burnt, stuck up from the earth like blighted teeth cast down into the ruins. A faint whiff of smoke mixed with the smells of soil, decay, and something more metallic.

I could hear the wind as it played across the field, each blade of grass giving off a faint hum as the breeze touched it. As I set a foot down upon the ground I could feel the vibrations as they rose up through my bones and hear them as they spread out into the ground around me.

My hearing and sense of touch, both improved by my Perception stat, combined to give me an acute sense of any vibrations in my immediate area — it was nothing compared to the sonar-sight I had temporarily gained while fused with the Fisher, but it could still be useful for sensing surprise attacks.

My sense of smell had increased in power as clearly as my other senses had, but it would take time for me to learn how to interpret the myriad of information and the cryptic messages that were furiously assaulting my nostrils.

The Fisher flew above me as it scanned for threats. I hadn’t taken over its senses since it had started flying, as I felt it would be too disorienting while trying to move and would slow my reaction if I needed to quickly switch back to my own senses. Instead, I decided I had no choice but to trust it to warn me of any danger.

The thought of its desires slipping into my own gave me a shiver, hairs standing up above my arms. No, it was best to save that trick for emergencies.

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I knew this area and it was a straight shot from here to Patriots Point Road, which I could follow east to quickly reach the area I intended to search. This knowledge tugged at my impatience, but I pushed it down and forced myself to continue my careful pace — at least for a short while.

It didn’t take long before I had abandoned caution and started sprinting at full speed. The ape-like monsters were long behind me, and the lack of apparent danger, combined with my concern for my friends, convinced me that speed was more important than being overly vigilant.

My weight had increased only slightly as Might had grown, my muscles had firmed but not grown noticeably larger. The visible changes might have been due to the lack of Coke and junk food, rather than the system. No amount of exercise or diet, however, accounted for my new strength.

This allowed each one of my steps to send me forward in great bounding leaps that carried me above the blades of grass before gravity would pull me down. It was almost like floating, with only brief stops to push off against the earth before flying once more.

I applied one of my newest feats, Focused Min, to poor of all of my focus into the repetitive task. It might have been something like a ‘runner’s high.’ I had heard about the phenomenon but had never achieved it for myself. Each step became more fluid and precise. Each movement seemed exact and measured with an almost machine-like efficiency, and there was none of the boredom or discomfort I normally associated with running.

It was exhilarating, almost to the point that I had forgotten why I was running – or to where. Within minutes I had cleared at least half the distance across the golf course. My focus began to wane, and I decided to stop on a small hill that poked up above the sea of grass.

The experiencing of running under such an effect had been exhilarating, endorphins and adrenaline had flooded my system leaving me with a faint glow of pleasure. I was so much faster than before.

I quickly realized that I had blocked off everything outside of what was necessary for the run itself. Instead, I had been focusing solely on running and the feeling of wind across my face and rhythm of the earth beneath my feet. It had felt freeing and euphoric but was foolish.

The Fisher had been screaming in the back of mind, warning me. As I came to a stop, I could feel its frantic pleading as it called out to me, but it took me a moment to regain my senses. What is it bugging me about now? I thought.

I called out to the creature, but it returned only feelings of excitement and fear. A desire to run overwhelmed with a sense of battle lust. A fight was coming, but all I could see was grass dancing in the gentle breeze.

I was vaguely aware of a rustling sound when something large and heavy struck the back of my knees. I collapsed, and my shoulders struck the ground with a heavy thump that drove the wind from my lungs. My legs were the only part of me remaining airborne when something long and tensile wrapped around my left calf before tightening and dragging me into the air to dangle only a few feet above the ground.

Two beady black eyes stared at me from above a mouth full of multiple rows of tiny, razor-sharp teeth. Enormous buck teeth poked out from beneath the snout of the creature, giving the otherwise razor filled maw an awkward appearance. Its ‘fur’ was green and mangy, like patches of grass growing out of diseased and putrid flesh.

On its back was a large growth, much like the bulb of a flower. Thick black vines grew from the wilting top of the bulb and thrashed around the creature as they pounded at my ribs and limbs.

I immediately activated my Arcane Shield and conjured a bladed staff of eldritch energy in my left hand. I lashed out at the appendage while grasping my leg, but I found myself being swung around and thrust into the ground. My head rang, and my stomach lurched as I tried to move. Bright flashes of light swam through my vision, accompanied by a symphony of tinnitus.

The mild confusion and nausea quickly passed, and my shield had protected me from the worst of the damage — even my mana was mostly untouched. I was once more tugged into the air as I struck wildly with my conjured staff. Energy crackled as I began to create eldritch spikes in the air above me. Each was as long as a flagpole and pointed downward at my enemy.

This proved to be overkill, however, when I heard the screech of a giant bird of prey piercing through the sky. The vine holding me fell to the ground, releasing me to roll into the sea of grass.

“Dammit,” I cried out. “What the hell was that thing.”

I sat up and looked at the creature. A large hole had been drilled through its head, and a giant kingfisher sat upon its shattered skull pulling long strips of flesh from the creature’s back.

“Nice save, but I’m not sure you should be eating that.”

The bird gave no response, so I walked over to the creature and gave it a closer examination. It had the general shape of a large rat, and the two buck teeth reinforced my theory. A large, green bulb grew from the center of the creature’s back, and thin, branching tendrils of plant matter grew down into the rat’s flesh — fusing plant and animal.

The bulb itself was made of four large leaves that closed into a point at the crest. The top of the bulb was slightly open, revealing red and gold petals. Thick black vines still grew from the center of the bulb but were beginning to liquefy and seep into the ground beneath the creature.

I closed my eyes, readying myself to use the Eye of Madness to gather more information about the rat but a sharp chirp interrupted my concentration. I looked up at the bird, still feasting on the body, and I saw it shake its head slightly as if it to warn me.

Instead, the Companion sent me an image of several more creatures around us. Bulbs, just like the one atop the giant rat, were hidden beneath the grass and spread around us at even intervals. I counted at least seven, but it was impossible to be sure.

“So, what do you suggest?”

It looked up at me once more, before sucking down a strip of flesh in one gulp as if it were eating spaghetti. Images once more invaded my mind, outlining its plan.

“Okay,” I said, “we’ll do it your way this time.”