Consciousness slammed back, breath tearing free like someone dragged me up from deep water.

  My heart beat against my ribs in wild, uneven bursts, and for a moment, all I could do was clutch my chest and stare out into the dark.

  What was that?

  Who was that dragon?

  A warning?

  Some kind of twisted premonition?

  Another way for the game to whisper in my ear, using dreams the same way it used menus and messages?

  I couldn’t say.

  Only one thing was clear.

  If whatever I saw decided to tear its way into reality, I was not ready for it.

  The room was pitch dark, and the only thing I could make out was the faint outline of the furniture and my companion sleeping in the bed beside me. Dead to the world, his body rose and fell in the steady rhythm of peaceful slumber.

  Believe it or not, my wrist still hurt like hell from the chains that had held me down in the dream. And when I inhaled, the smell of sulfur burned my nose.

  But that sounded ridiculous, right? There was no way I could still feel the effects of a dream while I was awake. It was only my mind, nothing more. A bogus nightmare that I would forget soon enough.

  No need to worry.

  By afternoon, I would forget all about it, and Cashius and I could leave this town and get on with the bigger mission.

  Yawning, I got up, my heartbeat steadying, and walked to the curtains, things already returning to normal.

  Through the narrow slit, a glimpse of light slipped in as the smooth fabric cooled my hand. Pulling the curtains open fully let the sun’s warmth spill into the room.

  I stretched my arms wide and yawned, long and deep. “That’s more like it,” I whispered, trying to shake off that awful nightmare and everything tied to it.

  Behind me, Cashius turned over, grumbling as he shielded his eyes from the sun.

  “Why must you wake so early?” he mumbled. “Unlike Earth, we don’t have jobs or school to attend.”

  I smiled. “And why must you complain so damn much, you old buzzard? Just because you’re practically a fossil doesn’t mean you get to talk shit all the time.”

  He tossed the covers back. “After your battle with Vaelthar, I thought you would still be resting, not crowing at the sky like a damned rooster.”

  “For Christ’s sake, shut your trap and be happy for once. Margaret gave us a generous reward, and we’re leaving this town for good, I hope. Plus, you get to show me more of this wonderful world,” I said, pausing. “Shouldn’t that be enough to wake up happy?”

  “Boneheaded boy. This isn’t a walk in the park,” he said while standing and cracking his back. “Beyond those gates are things that will take real strength and real ingenuity to conquer. And to be honest, I don’t think you have it in you.”

  I frowned. “Why do you say that? I survived having my memories used against me by that damned Sinderling. I killed the twins and beat Vaelthar bloody,” I said, letting the curtain fall and allowing darkness to swallow the room again. “After that, I would say I’m ready for anything.”

  Cashius lit the lamp on the nightstand, and warm light filled the space. He walked toward the bathroom.

  “That was only a side quest, and nowhere near as hard as the main one, which we still haven’t unlocked,” he said with a tired sigh. “Be grateful you survived.” He closed the door behind him.

  When I was alone, I shivered.

  No doubt an aftereffect of the dream that still lingered in the back of my mind.

  A quick shake pushed the thought away as I sat on the bed and opened the inventory.

  Going over the last item I had gotten from Margaret, I equipped it, marveling at the power it promised.

  The Gorton Staff.

  Slick with a metallic surface, it vibrated beneath my palm when I held it.

  Flipping it over, I could feel the powerful energy beneath the sheen of the metal. Holding it as I did, the dream that had tormented me earlier faded into the background, and the icy grip resonating in my palm took over my interest.

  After a few seconds of my arms shaking, the vibration stopped.

  On the heads-up display, a yellow gauge with a white outline appeared beneath my health bar. It read “MP” and was about a quarter the length of my health.

  In the background, the sound of Cashius’s urine could be heard splattering in the toilet. A thing I could’ve done without.

  Giving the staff a whirl, I lowered my arm like some kind of spellcaster, and a white-hot light shot forth and froze the contents of the dresser.

  A fog rose from the freshly chilled lighter.

  That’s when Cashius walked around the corner, complaining yet again.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Put that thing away until you need it. All you’ll do now is freeze things that you don’t need to,” he rushed to his lighter and shook off the ice.

  A quiet chuckle came first, then a trip to the washroom. Dressed and ready, I walked out with Havoc Maker over my shoulder and the new cloak and pants from Margaret’s store.

  My current stats read:

  Level 20

  HP: 6,750

  MP: 1,000

  Strength: 27 (+17)

  Vitality: 20

  Magic: 20

  Defense: 26 (+17)

  Perception: 23

  Speed: 23

  Wisdom: 21

  Knowledge: 22

  Most of the others were in that same range since I’d been focusing on Strength to hit harder with Havoc Maker.

  But from now on, I would start putting a few extra points into Magic and Knowledge so the staff I had acquired would become more powerful.

  When we exited the inn and stepped onto the streets, I inhaled the fresh air deeply.

  In front of me, two low-level thugs approached, taunting me as they always did. Beside them, a new figure sauntered into view, wearing one of those damn tropical Hawaiian shirts and carrying a short sword, completely at odds with the bananas printed on his shirt. Around his waist hung a neon red vial filled with some kind of magic buff, tied with a string, and on his feet were neat shoes with wings, if that makes any sense.

  Muscles bulging and snickering like a fool, he was a clear sign this game wasn’t about to let me leave the gates without a fight.

  “Bitch-boy, I know you see us,” one of them said, stepping forward with an axe. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Knees bent, I leaned into my stance. “Let’s get this over with, ya bums.”

  Cashius stepped to the side and lit his cigar. “Hurry this up, Lamont, because I’m dreadfully tired of this boring ass town.”

  My HUD came to life, showing me the HP of all three and their statuses. When I narrowed my eyes, more info appeared in small translucent boxes hovering behind each one.

  The two goons looked normal, each with a long green bar that would shift to yellow, then red, as they took more damage. But the big guy, the one smiling at me, had a skull next to his health gauge, signaling he was juiced up.

  Taking a few lessons from my fight with Vaelthar, I equipped Viper and Fang, and they materialized in my hands. Before they were fully formed, I hurled them at the two thugs, one after the other.

  Ffft Ffft!

  They sailed through the air like missiles, leaving behind a visible trail.

  As they hit their marks, I called them back to me, their hilts slipping into my hands. I unequipped them and charged forward, now swinging Havoc Maker like a skilled swordsman.

  One downward stroke followed by a quick thrust, and they dropped to their knees, bleeding.

  [Combo] and then [?999] hovered beside their gauges, and they stopped moving.

  The Hawaiian shirt guy bit the vial’s neck like a rabid dog, glass crunching between his teeth. The potion turned his veins neon beneath his skin. A glowing word appeared beneath his health bar, BUFFED, pulsing in bold yellow letters.

  That only pissed me off more.

  His flesh turned the angry red of boiling mercury, veins bulging like live wires, smoke pouring from his feet as if he were standing over a sewer grate. Sweat rolled off his face in buckets, and his fists swelled to twice their size.

  What in the world was this?

  The last time I faced these guys, they didn’t pull this cartoonish stuff. Now it looked like every potion came with some bizarre mutation, each one affecting their bodies differently.

  Before I could process it, he charged at me like a bull, head down, literally steaming mad. His winged shoes allowed him to gain altitude with every step, enabling him to run on air.

  A glance at the Air Michaels on my feet, built for running across walls, sparked an idea to trick him.

  Yeah, what I was about to do would be brutal.

  As he got closer, I waited.

  The smirk on my face was full of deceit.

  Cashius, however, shook his head and blew out a dense cloud of white smoke. Then, I crouched and braced for impact.

  “Come on, you loud-shirt-wearing asshole,” I muttered. “Come get your last aloha.”

  When the brute was just inches away, I turned and planted my feet against the wall.

  Using the power of the shoes, I took my first step upward, scaling the building with little to no effort. It was as if I were weightless, free from the pull of gravity.

  Just pure, unreal motion.

  The muscled thug kept charging forward, unable to stop because of the effects of the potion he had drunk. With no choice but to keep running, his eyes went wide as he barreled headfirst into the side of the inn.

  A loud crash rang out, and the side of the building shook, almost throwing me off balance. I looked down at my feet and kept running as a cloud of smoke erupted below, sending debris flying into the air.

  When I was certain I would be knocked from the building, I pushed off the wall and came down hard, Havoc Maker falling with me, point-first, along with the bastard.

  “You’re dead now, fucker!” I yelled.

  His body was half inside the building, legs planted on the ground, trying to wiggle his way out. Havoc Maker found its home between his vertebrae with a wet crunch.

  I bounced off the ground and did a somersault, ripping the sword free from his body.

  At first, nothing.

  Then a crescendo of blood sprayed into the air as [Exquisite Kill] flashed above his body. The dark red fluid rained down as spectators, who had stopped to watch the carnage, screamed in horror and ran away, clutching their mouths.

  One lady even vomited on her shoes.

  When the show was over, Cashius knelt and smashed his cigar against the man’s bloodstained corpse.

  “About time,” he said. “Now we can leave this place and get on with our business.”

  I stood there, smiling at my work. Proud, even.

  Cashius grinned and walked toward me.

  “For Christ’s sake, are you just gonna keep standing there with that goofy, boneheaded smirk, or are you going to loot their bodies?”

  “Damn it,” I said. “I didn’t get a chance to use the staff, and I really wanted to test it and see what kind of damage it did.” I bent down to check the man’s bloodied corpse.

  “There’ll be plenty of time for that once we get outside these walls and into the wilderness.”

  “I guess you’re right.”

  Pulling the man out of the hole, I inspected the body and found nothing useful. Next, the orb and gold rushed to me.

  Seconds later, I checked the inventory, secured Havoc Maker in its place behind my back, and turned west toward the exit.

  Standing there felt strange for some reason.

  Though I had only been here a few days, I already knew I would miss this place and everything I had been through.

  Especially the atmosphere and the way the game felt like the real world, with all the choices it gave you.

  Whoever designed this had an incredible amount of knowledge to pull off something like this.

  It reminded me of home, not because of how it looked, but because of what I had experienced here.

  Cashius walked up beside me with a strange look on his face, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out how.

  After a few seconds, I turned to him and patted him on the back.

  “Ready to get this done, or should I fight some more of those twerps that keep popping up?”

  “Nah, you’re too advanced to get proper XP from them. There are some more missions available, but to be honest, I need to get away from that damn Jade stuff. Just being around it is almost too much for me. It brings back memories I thought I had buried a long time ago.”

  I hung my head. “Well, let’s get out of here and into the wilderness.”

  And we were off.

  Level 20 brought a load of new abilities and weapons to try out. And Cashius, well, I guess you could say he was stronger too, just in a different way. Stronger for not giving in to his past addiction.

  And when you think about it, we were both smarter and more capable now. Dealing with that trauma, the stuff that had been eating at me for years, made me feel like a new man. One who was ready to face whatever came next.

  Ahead, the gate loomed, stretching on for miles.

  Cashius looked to me, then took a step, and I, a mere rookie, took off, ready to see what this world had in store for me.