I raise my eyebrows so high it almost hurts. “To be honest, I expected you to say everything but this,” I say.


    “When I got here, through the tunnel…”


    “Tunnel or a hole in the ground?” I interrupt him.


    “Yes, you can call it a hole. But the ride was quite long, so more like a tunnel,” he answers.


    “There was a car and a person. I… I made a lot of mistakes. I’m responsible for all the mess that happened. That person and the car fell in right along with me.”


    I see his dead stare as he mentions the person. He’s trying hard to cover it, but I can see right through him.


    It’s so hard for him to open up about this that I decide not to dig any deeper. “Okay, I’ll try to lift your car.”


    His eyes, which were sad just a moment ago, brighten with a smile, contrasting his usual wide grin.


    I pull the gun out of my sweatpants pocket. It even catches on the fabric with the rear sight. If this were loaded, I might have shot off a piece of my leg—or worse.


    How embarrassing. I bet he just thinks I’m clumsy and could be a danger not only to myself but to others. He’s definitely reevaluating his decision to hand it over when we fought the snails.


    I quickly give it back to him, barrel first, while he maintains his poker face.


    “You said after I lift it,” I remind him.


    “Uh, right. Here. If this lever is like this, it’s locked.” He shows me some basics on how to operate the gun...


    <hr>


    “Old man!” We suddenly stop and both turn around at the same time.


    “Come and try to hit me!” Mike challenges Harald, encouraging him to slap.


    “I have my first skill, finally!” he proudly announces.


    What the hell?! Did he choose it while walking behind us? He can’t be over fifty. What the heck? Maybe it''s not fifty. It was all my speculation. Or is it different for different people?


    “Apparently, it’s forty for me!” Mike says with a smirk.


    “Good for you. Which one?” I reply, figuring he had to choose from the default options.


    “Sharpen [Sharpen all senses for a limited time].”


    “Sounds great,” I say. Yep, it''s one of those generic ones.


    Harald looks me over and then rolls up the right sleeve of his black, coarse-knit sweater, revealing a muscular and hairy forearm.


    As he approaches Mike, who seems more than ready, a smile cracks across his face.


    *Slap*


    Astrid bursts into laughter. I chuckle too.


    Dang it. That slapping sound was funny, and how he leaned to the side before springing back like a clown on a spring. Pfff.


    “Mike?” Astrid looks at him.


    “I don''t know. Do I need to activate it somehow?”


    “Mark?” His gaze lands on me.


    “Say, whisper, or just think of the skill name or the skill itself,” I say calmly. I close my fist, stick my left arm in the air, and say out loud, “Focus.”


    The energy and warmth travel instantly from the center of my body to the tips of my fingers.


    *Bwoosh* A fleshy, intimidating sound is produced.


    About half of my hand increases in size. It''s not double, but it is at least fifty percent bigger. Astrid’s eyes widen, and she raises her eyebrows. I see Harald is fascinated.


    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    “Try now!” Mike tells the old guy.


    “Sharpen!” Mike shouts, his left cheek still reddish.


    Astrid backs away a few steps from them.


    *Whoosh*


    The slap lands perfectly, but in the air. Mike manages to dodge it with ease.


    The old man tries again, and the confident boy dodges once more, like a martial arts expert.


    *Whoosh*


    Another perfectly timed dodge. He bonks the old man on his left shoulder afterward.


    “Okay, okay. Great powers! Now stop,” I tell them while approaching.


    But they aren''t listening. Harald closes his fist and tries to hit him harder and faster. He once again dodges with surgical precision and returns the attack, hitting the old man in the chest. Harald narrows his eyes, focusing even more.


    *Bam*


    “Mikey!” Astrid rushes in to catch him as he falls like a bag of potatoes. Harald shakes off his fist and crouches closer to Mike, who’s lying on the ground. Mike opens his eyes, his expression surprised.


    “Young man?” Harald offers his hand to help him up. “You clearly forgot about ‘Sharpen all senses for a LIMITED time.’”


    Mike scoffs, grabbing Harald''s hand and getting back on his feet.


    “So you have a limit too?” he looks at me.


    I shrug. “No idea. I can’t even test it, obviously,” I reply while pulling up my sleeves.


    Harald starts walking toward me again, looking into the distance. This gesture tells us all to continue moving toward the pit.


    “We’re close. Focus on what you see,” Harald stops and tells the group. He looks into the distance, shading his eyes with his hand. It’s not even necessary. This gesture must be a habit, or is he sensitive to light? I noticed how often he does this, even when there are no sun rays blocking his vision.


    A few more steps, and I feel two things: a cold breeze coming from between the tall trees in the distance and an eerie echoing sound from the same direction. The sounds match my imagination exactly. It must be a mix of wind suddenly contending with a deep crater. Not sure if I even want to see this. Deep, bottomless holes are nightmare fuel for me.


    Mike and Astrid quicken their steps forward.


    “There’s no way…” Astrid grabs Mike by the arm, amazed yet terrified as she watches the scenery.


    Weird shivers run down my spine as I approach the forest''s edge. Gigantic? No, humongous? No. The only word that can describe it is gargantuan. A gargantuan crater, about the size of a small neighborhood, appears in front of my eyes.


    Before realizing how deep it is, I comprehend the width first.


    It’s something definitely out of this world. The visible inner walls of the crater are made of solid rock. From the surface, the color gradient changes from brown to gray cobblestone. The brown soil part is rather thin, about the height of a tree. I compare it while watching the scale. We keep walking towards it. The closer I get, the more surreal the experience is. Occasionally, small rocks fall in, making echoes.


    “It can’t be bottomless,” Mike says as he marches toward the crater.


    “Fuck.” He yells. I still see only the rocky side that fades into darkness.


    Harald has gotten completely used to it and doesn’t even flinch. Mike is lifting a heavy stone.


    “Are you stupid? It can pull you down!” Astrid quickly warns him.


    He pushes the stone near the edge, and it falls. Tumbling and cracking echoes until there’s silence again.


    I grab a small stone and approach the edge. By the edge, I mean dozens of meters away from it. My fear of depth does not allow me to step any closer.


    I toss the rock as far as I can, and it’s sucked into the abyss as if it wasn’t even real.


    “Continue over there. We’ll wait until morning,” Harald points toward an open area where he probably had a camp before.


    “It’s not even dusk! I want points!” Mike argues.


    “Do you want to face a swarm of unholy, fast, six-legged wolves on your own?” Harald looks him in the eye, frowning.


    “How come they won’t come for us here at night?” Mike asks.


    “Because they''re afraid of me. Ha ha ha.” Harald smiles, revealing his big, perfect teeth again.


    Mike turns around and starts to unpack. They prepare the camp, and I make my spot farther from theirs. Not from them, but from the crater. I’m constantly shivering.


    <hr>


    Lying on my makeshift bed, I breathe heavily, filled with fear and chaos. I need to consolidate my thoughts.


    You are Markus. Markus Hale.


    You are here and now. There is nothing else. You died yet live. You’ve seen extreme gore, yet you’re fine. You have all the luck in the world—highest level, secret skill, you’ve killed the boss and protected the innocent.


    You have Harald, who is great, kind, and wise. You look up to him, and he likes you. Astrid seems to have the potential to be a good friend. Mike might be one day too.


    And her cat spoke to you. Only you!


    “Yaawn.”


    Hush brain! It was all a dream. I keep yawning, my eyes are closing.


    The cat answers only to her, by the *Snap*


    I snap my fingers, half-asleep, not sure why. I just wanted to know how it feels to her.


    *A discrete poof* Pocco appears in front of my face with a dust cloud.


    “Yep. I’m sleeping. You’re not here. This is a dream.” I gaze at the translucent cat.


    “Meow.”


    “Great. Another super vivid one. At least this is confirmed. I can’t call you with a flick, only your owner, Astrid, so now you''re gonna meow and then talk to me, right? Pfff.” I look at him with one eyebrow raised, completely incredulous.


    “Owner. Meow.”


    “What owner? She is your owner?”


    “Yes. Meow.”


    “So then what? Am I your owner too?” I whisper .


    “Yes. Meow.”


    “So both?” I ask again.


    “Yes. Meow.”


    “Do you even know how to say no?”


    “Yes. Meow.”


    I sigh.


    “Statue. Find,” he continues.


    I frown immediately.


    “Okay, listen here, you little brat. I found the statue! And it squeezed the life out of me! So get the hell out of here and leave me to sleep,” I whisper angrily.


    *Poof*


    He disappears. My eyelids grow heavy and close.


    I finally fall asleep, deeply.


    <hr>


    *Indistinct mumbling* wakes me up.