Joe vomited on the ground, as he felt reality return. What he had just experienced was not pleasant. One moment he was facing off in a death battle, the next he felt as if he was chewing on his own stomach. Now all he could sense was the bile that still coated his mouth. He spat, attempting to clear the bitterness with his saliva to little avail. As his other senses made themselves known he noticed that the darkness was receding. Beyond his crouched figure, he could just make out some steps in the gloom that led upwards. The steps themselves were concave in the middle, reminding Joe of several castle’s steps he had seen in the past, worn from use. After a flight or two, the steps disappeared into the murk. Behind him, and to his sides were similarly murky. He took a moment to evaluate his situation, bemoaning the fact he was once again thrust into something 'mighty odd'. Forever the pragmatist, his decision was swift. “Well, I guess my path is clear. Onwards and upwards”.

He stood to his feet and then groaned as he wobbled. Dizzy, with nausea rearing its ugly head again, Joe stumbled forwards to sit on the steps to recover. A strange pressure descended on him as he sat on the second step, as if he suddenly weighed an extra 10 kilograms. “A gravity well? Gravity steps?” he groaned as he looked back behind him rubbing his head. “Well, as Yazz says, the only way is up.”

With every step he took, his body felt heavier, each step more laboured, each breath more restricted. It was not too long ago that he was lying in a gutter drunk off some cheap cider, so to think now he was climbing stairs now carrying almost triple his weight was extraordinary. Joe forced a smile, his lips competing with the increasing gravity. ‘This actually feels pretty good, Goku used to train in gravity too.’ Using the fictional character as motivation, he stomped on as sweat drenched his clothes, causing the cut on his arm to sting. On the 20th step Joe felt a rush of endorphins hit him, followed by a horrific odour. “Is that my sweat!?” Joe wiped his hand under his pit and then sniffed his hand for good measure. Almost gagging he whipped his hand away. And then sniffed his hand again to make sure with the same result. ‘Can’t be that I’m sweating out all that booze surely’ he thought, taking another step.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

10 steps later and it happened again, a burst of endorphins, and then a horrid stench. ‘Whatever it may be, after the rush and the stink I definitely feel stronger”. He took another step and then almost collapsed. “Ugh, spoke too soon”. The 31st step was hard, he felt like he was carrying a yoke with 20 other yokes stacked on top. He idly thought about Sherpas and wondered how easily they could manage these steps. ‘Like mountain goats I bet’, He took another step. ‘And worse yet, I think I can hear water.’

Seventeen steps later and three more endorphin bursts of stenchy strength, Joe finally reached a landing of sorts where a small fountain stood off the side surrounded by the gloom. From the fountain, water spew, glistening with a faint glow as it tumbled into the grates beneath the column. The fountain was made from white marble in the likeness of a swan, its neck bent back on itself in the shape of an S, as the water cascaded from its open beak.

Joe looked at the swan and then the glowing water frowning. ‘Radioactive water being vomited by a swan, now I actually feel lost. What on earth is going on here? Hallucinogens in the sphere the greasy fuck threw? Or the fountain of youth? Eat your heart out, Indiana!’ With the same hesitation he showed when drinking from the mysterious amphora, Joe drank to his heart’s content using his cupped hand as an impromptu bowl. Soon he was swiftly reminded how his hands had been used to cleanse his foul armpit earlier as he caught a pungent whiff of his fingers. ‘Huh, might as well have a quick wash too whilst I'm here.’ Feeling pleased with his insight, he took to cleaning off the thick level of grime that had accrued on every inch of his skin. ‘It’s even in my hair for fucks sake’. The ‘radioactive’ water was much better at cleaning the grime off then he anticipated and soon he was feeling fresh, except for his filthy clothes of course.