Lair by Carl Stubblefield (recommended reading TXT) 📕

finished trudging back to the manor. The day had taken its toll on him, and now he had an even shorter deadline. He just felt weary to his core, wrung out completely. He was still processing what had happened. His whole life he had felt like some insignificant dweeb, and nothing until the crash had showed him anything different. People treated him a certain way, and he felt ever insecure because he knew his life was lackluster and unimpressive.

But there was a part of him that had always hoped things were different, and made him special somehow. Whatever had happened at level ten showed that he was actually right in thinking he was unique. Part of him refused to believe it. The other part chided him on wasting so much time feeling sorry for himself. Am I really destined for great things? For some reason it felt much more foreboding than enlightening. That his burden had increased, now that he wasn’t just the recipient of some lucky accident.

He was set apart. And not knowing for what tickled a part of his brain that made him restless and uncomfortable. A pressing urgency, more than his deadlines, prodded him on. He had to get better, as soon as possible. Moving past simple existence and survival to actually doing something with his life. Gus almost swooned as he was hit with a wave of fatigue, distracting him from his musings.

“Oooh. What is happening? Aren’t my Nth supposed to be absorbing energy now and helping me not be tired?”

“Give them a bit, some things take a little time, Mr. Microwave-burrito-mentality, they’re repairing a ton of stuff after you Hulked out back there.”

The more he travelled down the path, his drowsiness faded, but he still felt oppressively weak. Physical training was probably out, but he still felt a little restless. No more wasted time.

His brain was foggy, and it was hard to focus on anything complicated. He decided that he should try to level Basic Flight at least once before the day ended, and cycle through his MP as much as possible. While he could hover for only three seconds before he had to stop and wait for his MP pool to refill, it was actually soothing to float for a bit. He would take a step and the momentum of his walk would carry him as he drifted down the path. Even the bottoms of Gus’ feet hurt as if bruised. Everything ached, and it was not wearing off as quickly as it usually did. Just before exiting the jungle it finally chimed a level increase.

You have leveled up the skill: Basic Flight to Level 3!

50 XP awarded

100 FP awarded

When he arrived at his suite, he took off his boots and gave his tired feet a rest. Sitting on the ground, he activated Basic Flight and due to his recent leveling event found he could hover now for five seconds. When he attempted to hover over to the table where he had placed various fruits in a bowl, he found that he couldn’t last a second when he tried maintaining a hover and moving. If he was already moving, he could drift, but no flying from a standstill. Damn. Doesn’t look like I’m flying anytime soon.

Deciding to be patient, Gus positioned himself in front of the big panoramic view of the ocean along the side of the suite. Opening the window, he let the evening breeze blow into the room past him as he stared out toward the sea and practiced. The soothing crash of the waves calmed him, and Gus let go of his problems.

Now that he had passed level ten and his Nth had evolved, he had a new lease on life. The guillotine above his neck was gone. Well, one of its blades was gone. He still had to figure out how to manage the volcano situation, but today had been a good day.

The warm breeze blowing past him seemed to carry away the embers of worry and stress that had been burning inside, without him being aware of how they were affecting him deep down. Their insidious damage was now able to heal as Gus relaxed and just focused on floating and breathing.

The tension he didn’t know he was carrying reluctantly released. His muscles were tentative at first, protective, but as he let himself be held aloft, they finally accepted the support the ether was providing. As he floated, he recalled that same sensation so long ago when he was floating in his space suit in the sea. Maybe it was the sedatives, but Gus remembered being totally relaxed. Gus opened himself up to that same level of relaxation and a chime sounded.

You have leveled up the skill: Basic Flight to Level 4!

50 XP awarded

100 FP awarded

Gus blinked away the log and regained his center. It was easier to maintain the skill when you didn’t try to make it happen. Like the difference between a back float and treading water. Both would keep you above the surface, but one took a lot of energy and was unsustainable for long periods of time.

Slowly, he drifted from an upright position and fell prone, supported by a cushion of air and ether. Gus’ eyes grew heavy and he closed them. Handing his subconscious the reins, he fell asleep. Gus didn’t float there the whole night, but he did hover an inch above the plush carpet for much longer than any of his previous attempts. Eventually, the effect faded and he gently settled into the soft material for the night.

Gus awoke early in the morning, a cool breeze brushing his skin, and a beam of light from the morning sunrise playing across his eyelids. His old friend the blue countdown timer greeted him. Gus waved it away in irritation, then closed his eyes again. Though he slept on the floor, Gus felt better than ever. Such a change from the torture of yesterday. Gus cracked his eyes open from where he lay on the