Blackthorne awoke to darkness, but he was not faced with the calm and serene night-time landscape that he expected. Still partially groggy from the transition, he expected to have a moment to reflect before beginning his adventures. Instead, the first thing that he saw was a bulbous creature flying down at him out of the sky.

He threw his hands up to block his face, but the impact sent pain dancing along his arms. He cried out in panic when he felt a strange tearing sensation. He kicked out with all his might and knocked away another onion that gnawed at his foot.

Desperately, he rolled to the right with all of the strength that he could muster and managed to stagger to his feet. His left foot felt rough and raw. The onion nearly chewed through his boot and he had pressure bruises to deal with now.

Screams of hunger and rage rose up all around him. Blackthorne looked around quickly and realized that he was surrounded by at least twenty of the hungry little bastards. How did this happen? Where did they all come from?

He drew his sword and tried to find a clear avenue of escape. He was happy to chop up onions all night long, but their special nature caused a minor form of blindness. With this many of them attacking him at once, he was at a serious disadvantage.

Three onions leapt toward him and he jumped back to avoid the incoming attacks. They could not leap far, but they hit hard if they managed to land their attack.

Several onions screamed out, “Cry for me!”

Immediately, he was assaulted by the force of their attack. His vision began to grow blurry, and the strength rapidly began to leave his body.

"Damn it!" he snapped. Blackthorne jumped to the side then ran straight toward the smallest concentration of onions. Two of them stood between him and freedom. The closest onion leapt toward him, but he narrowly avoided the attack by swinging his sword hard to the left. He missed the little beast, but his sudden movement caused it to do no more than clip him on the shoulder.

He staggered slightly, but maintained his balance and continued forward. The last onion between him and freedom screamed out, “Cry for me!”

Blackthorne began to cry even more, but he kept running. Soon, he passed the onion encirclement and ran into the grassland at high speed. He never did learn why all those onions appeared so suddenly, but he did make good time toward his next destination.

Several minutes passed before the teary-eyed effect wore off. He was more than a little agitated by having been forced to flee from a bunch of onions, but he was not ready to face that many at once. He would have felt comfortable fighting two or three of them, but twenty at one time was far too many.

After he ran far enough to feel reasonably safe, he checked his status. “Shit! Two hit points left... Life force, whatever!” he snapped.

Those onions must have been chewing on him since before he had woken up! How was that possible, though? He would look into it, later. However, something else caught his eye at the moment.

"World Update Notification?" asked Blackthorne. He clicked on the notifications tab that appeared below his status.

Hello, people of Earth!

You may now rejoice! Your tutorial bodies are now 100% part of the world. No longer will they disappear after you awaken. Instead, they will remain exactly where you left them. This was an important step toward the coming changes to your world and the events set to occur in one standard year.

This makes it much more important to find a safe place to rest, and to socialize with people whom you trust.

There's no need to thank us! We're doing our best to make this transition easier for you all.

Blackthorne frowned. "Are you kidding me? How is this better? Our bodies disappeared before, so to make it more immersive, or whatever, our dream body can die when we're awake on Earth?"

There was still a lot to learn about this world, especially since the way things worked seemed likely to change at the whims of whoever had done this to it in the first place. The first thing he needed to do was to locate the town that he heard about. Sleeping alone in the grasslands again would be a terrible idea.

The forest that the traveler mentioned was in the far distance. He looked to the left, but saw no farms, yet.

“Guess I need to keep walking,” he said. Blackthorne ate an onion then continued onward.

He set out at a quick pace. However, traveling at night in the dream world was dangerous compared to traveling during the day. A few minutes after he began his trip in earnest, the background music shifted from a peaceful travel tune to a more dangerous guitar laden track.

The grass began to sway and tremble. Blackthorne readied his sword. He wanted to make his mark on this world. He would not run again.

The grass parted and a bulky shape leapt upward into the air. Bright red eyes flashed in the moonlight. A rodent the size of a small dog streaked toward him.

Blackthorne dodged to the side while cutting at the air. It was a shallow strike that would have done precious little damage on its own. However, his enchanted blade delivered an additional jolt spell that knocked some of the oversized rat’s health down a bit.

Blade at the ready, Blackthorne faced the fearsome rodent. It landed hard and rolled forward once before hopping back to its feet. Its tail flew upwards slightly and then it bared its fangs.

An aggrieved hiss signaled the beast's anger. Blackthorne sought to attack it, but a sudden sense of alarm rose up from deep within. Dangerous looking motes of light began to form along the edge of the rat's tiny horns.

Answering to sudden instinct, Blackthorne threw himself down toward the ground just before the rat unleashed a jet of flame that would have hit him like a flame thrower. His eyes widened in surprise at the monster’s attack, but he could not let it get its bearings. He needed to make his move, now. There was no way he would be able to dodge those sorts of attacks repeatedly.

Blackthorne hopped up and launched himself forward to unleash a powerful overhand swing. The motes of light began to form between the rat’s horns once more, but it did not manage to fully fire off its attack before the blade crashed down atop its head.

Blackthorne screamed in agony as a tiny gout of flame, a mere fraction of what the beast intended to unleash, seared his flesh. He fell heavily to the ground and rolled around in a panic as his clothing and hair began to burn.

However, the situation proved truly dire for the rodent. The rat fiend’s skull split open with great force and the creature dropped to the ground immediately. It spasmed once when the jolt spell arced through its body, but that was merely overkill. There was no death cry, no feeble kicking of its rodent feet. It was crushed completely with that strike.

The would-be dark knight cried out in panic as a sudden sense of weakness overtook him. He lost nearly all control of his body and went limp. He blacked out for a brief moment, but soon awoke to a terrible truth.

"Can't move..." he tried to say, only for it to come out as a harsh whisper.

The pain of his wounds reached him a moment later. Tears welled up in his eyes as his body sent him mixed signals from several locations where his flesh had been slightly seared by the flames. Had the attack gone longer, it would have been a far worse situation. As things stood, his life force soaked up most of the damage before the rest made it through.

Panting shallowly, Blackthorne struggled to move. Each attempt brought both pain, and a growing sense of frustration.

Progress toward recovery took quite a while. Blackthorne was certain that several minutes had passed before things changed for the better. Slowly, much like the trickle of water dripping from a leaky faucet, he began to regain a little strength.

Once he found the energy to move his body a bit, he sat up a little and pulled an onion from his bag. Eating did not fill him with immediately strength or vitality as it once did. He checked his status then cringed when he noticed that his life force was at zero. Next to his status line he saw that he was considered lightly injured.

"That much was obvious," he said with little energy. He did not need to check his status to know that he was injured.

Several minutes passed while he recovered. Barely able to move well enough to fish an onion from his bag, there was little else he could do but wait. Strangely, however, even after all that time passed he barely noticed any difference.

He checked his status then frowned. "Still zero life force..."

Staring at his status menu for a moment allowed him to discover a barely noticeable mark next to his body condition. Curious, he focused on it and a new screen appeared.

Body Status: Lightly Injured

Status Effects

-Burned [Light]

Damage: 5.75

Regeneration Time: 34.5 Hours

-Poisoned [Slight]

Damage: 0.25

Regeneration Time: 1.5 Hours

Regeneration Rate: 1 Point | 6 Hours

"What is this?" asked Blackthorne. The information shown was confusing at first. Over time, however, the information he'd gained from the books during the first dream began to make its presence known.

Piece-by-piece, he began to understand what the screen tried to relate to him. In order to fully convince himself of his newfound understanding, he spoke it aloud. "So, a normal person with standard vigor heals at a rate of one point of damage point per day..."

Taking that into account, he guessed that his body had taken six points of damage. His vigor modifier was plus three. He healed at four times the rate of the standard human. "If it was me from before this all happened, this would take nearly a weak to heal, but now it's a day and a half?"

"I won't regenerate my life force until my injuries drop to at least four points. If I get attacked again, it could be a serious problem..." said Blackthorne thoughtfully. Four points was considerably better than the standard one point a normal person dealt with, however.

"Gotta avoid getting injured for at least ten and a half hours? Is that what it means?" he asked rhetorically. He expected no answers, but it would have been nice to get one.

The way his body would heal from injuries now seemed a bit odd to him. The regeneration effect applied individually to each status effect. Every six hours, one point of damage from each issue would be healed. His poisoned status would be long gone by then, but he still would not be able to regenerate his life force until after his burned status dropped to four points. All damage combined needed to be at four points or lower for life force to be generated.

Blackthorne was not certain what to do now. Some of his strength began to return to him over time, but he felt shaky. Standing up seemed like it would be a serious chore. Further, there was the matter of the rat bastard that put him in this predicament in the first place.

"My injuries aren't particularly bad, I guess," said Blackthorne. Admittedly, he could not see himself to tell the difference. However, given the time frame the status window cited for his healing, he doubted that he looked like he'd been barbecued.

"Yeah, probably just first degree burns maybe something bordering on second?" he asked to himself. There was no way that he had a third degree burn. He knew enough to know that those took months, if not years, to heal and usually required skin grafts to even have a chance at regaining a semblance of the poor bastard's previous quality of life.

"Guess it's a bit like when you burn your finger with a match, but all over my body..." he decided in the end. The only way he would know for sure would be to find a mirror and check. Briefly he wondered if regeneration time included perfect regeneration or if his wounds would leave permanent scarring.

The poison was a bit worrying as well, but he assumed it was something to do with those damned onions making him cry earlier. That bullshit counted as a biological attack, so it made sense for the lingering effects to be considered poisonous in nature. At least, it made sense from a game-like standpoint.

He put those thoughts aside quickly, however. It was best not to think about such things for now.

There were more important things to consider, the dead rat for example. Did he just leave the corpse there? He doubted that it would fit in his bag. He struggled with his exhaustion for a time, but eventually he did manage to pick up the rodent’s corpse. Sadly, when he tried to stuff it in his bag, it refused to fit.

There was not much space left in there so he had to make a choice. He stared at the corpse for a moment, much like he did with the first onion that he defeated. It took a moment, but tidbits of information started to appear all around it.

Rat Fiend Corpse

Skin: Yes

Forage: Yes

“Skin and forage? Why didn't I have to do that to the onions?” Blackthorne asked the empty air. No helpful screens popped up to allow him to do such things automatically. The only thing he could come up with was that he must do it manually. He glanced at the sword in his hand and then to the corpse on the ground.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust then went to work. He hadn't hunted or fished much since his father died. Harry was not much for activities that involved getting off the couch, not that Blackthorne had wanted anything to do with the man. Juvenile Hall also did not lend itself well to giving kids firearms or bows.

Blackthorne tried to recall what he learned from his father. First, he hacked off the rat's head. His blade worked well for hacking, but it did not work well for finer cutting work. He worked at the corpse as best he could. In the end, several bloody chunks of meat, a somewhat decent piece of fur, two horns, and several rat fiend fangs were acquired. He also cut off the tail and the paws just in case.

He spent a moment looking through each item then sighed. He already knew what he would have to do. Blackthorne read through the description for the rat meat once more.

Rodent Ribs

Class: F

Quality: Low

Nutrition Value:

- Increases rate of health regeneration [+0.20] for 24 hours.

- Restores [2] life force.

- Restores [1] life force per [3] minutes for [30] total minutes.

Blackthorne was injured and possessed no protective life force cushion. He did not want to risk dying. There was nothing to indicate that the meat was poisonous or toxic in any way. While the onion did nothing for his regeneration rate, there was something to be said for the fact that this item automatically granted two points of life force. Could that help?

He stared at the chunk of rat-rib in his hand. There was no way to start a fire, and he could not carry everything anyway. A lot was said about death in this world, but he still did not know the truth. Risking it would be foolish if there was another way of getting out of this situation.

Slowly, he opened his mouth and closed his eyes tight. Disgusted beyond words, he bit into the raw piece of rat. Immediately, he felt like spitting it out. It was possibly the most disturbing thing that he ever tasted in his life. However, he persevered. Blackthorne chewed and then swallowed the first chunk and then forced himself to go back for another.

He finished off his unsettling meal then growled. This was nothing, nothing! He had eaten worse before... The times that he escaped from that hellhole that he was forced to call home he and his sister ate far worse. It wasn’t even the first time he had eaten a rat. Though, at least those times it was cooked.

“At least this guy isn’t rotten like the stuff in that dumpster...” He tossed aside the rib bones then steeled his courage. Blackthorne reached for the other set of rodent ribs. It was time to see if certain benefits would stack.

He stared at the bloody hunk of rat then started to close his eyes again. However, he stopped himself halfway. “No, if I can’t even do this much... It’s just meat.”

Becoming stronger was important to him on many levels. Had he been stronger as a child, his sister might still be alive. That was what he told himself every day. It was also what he told himself while he forced down another helping of raw rodent.

He checked his status a short time later and grinned. There was a section at the bottom of his body condition status that showed his regeneration boosts. Quickly he ate the rest of his gathered ribs, not that there was much meat on the rat in the first place, and checked once more. "Good, that's an extra point. Should knock a few hours off my healing time."

“If I can do this much, I can do more... Maybe even when I’m awake...” said Blackthorne, before stuffing the leftover items into his bag. There were pieces of meat other than the ribs, such as rat rump but they did not provide regeneration benefits. Those could be saved for a while in case he found a way to cook them, or he reached town.

Blackthorne stood up from his crouched position then nodded. His exhaustion was still evident in his face, but he'd regained a bit of strength and acquired more than a little resolve in the process. No matter what, he would not allow himself to die because of something as stupid as not wanting to eat a rat. Let the monsters come. He would eat them all if it meant he would stay alive long enough to see how strong he could truly become.

However, as he walked away, he reminded himself that he should make decent meals in the real world. There was no reason to eat crap like this all night, and eat garbage during the day as well.

Blackthorne continued on his way. He was momentarily nauseous not long after that, but he managed to hold in his dinner. He could not afford to lose that bit of nutrition after all.