“Aww, man, I’m hungry!” John roared, pushing up to a seat. It was still dark, but he could see the bent light of sunrise on the way.

Glancing around, John noticed his spot next to the creek looked like a proper campsite. Hell, he even had a basic lean-to shelter built right over him where he’d slept. There was a campfire to his left. A rack with fish strung up to his right. And another lean-to off to the side.

Peeking out from his lean-to, Xanhilt looked back.

“You built all of this?” John asked.

Xanhilt flicked his tongue at the air. “Yes. You were asleep for a day and two nights. Our safe harbor has ten more hours left.”

John’s eyes widened. “What? For real?”

“Check it yourself.”

He did just that, using identify on the shimmering barrier above.

Safe Harbor: 10 hrs, 3 minutes, 12 seconds.

“What the hell, man?” John gawked. “I’ve been tired before, but never like this. I slept for damn near 40 hours.”

“I have a theory that you’ve pushed yourself extremely hard during the battle at the tower. Thus, you must’ve overused the energies the [Soul] dictates despite the use of magic stones.”

“But what about you?” John asked.

“I didn’t overexert myself as much compared to you,” Xanhilt said, chuckling. “When I went to sleep, I came back to after eighteen hours.”

“Huh, well, that sure is something,” John said. “I do feel a lot better, [Soul]-wise, now. But, uh, are any of those fish labeled with my name on them.”

Xanhilt smiled. “Please, go ahead, and eat. It’s the least I can offer.”

John grabbed a couple of fish, stuck them on some sticks, and roasted them over the fire. Then he feasted heartily before drinking some creek water. Still feeling hungry, he asked Xanhilt if he could have seconds, and the saurian urged him to enjoy. John was more than happy that he had helped out his new companion at the tower. He got a feast out of it.

Sitting by the fire, John watched in silence with Xanhilt as the sun rose. The barrier warped their view, splaying morning sunbeams over its shimmering surface like rippling waves made of pure light. It was a beautiful sight to behold. It was a fantastic sight to behold. It gave their area a sense of heavenly tranquility as John listened to the burbling creek and splashing fish.

“This is all real,” John said. “It’s not a dream. We’re really experiencing this.”

“In saurian society, we’ve debated what it truly means to experience something,” Xanhilt said. “Are we experiencing this because we perceive it all through our various senses? Or are we experiencing this because we think we are experiencing?”

“Nope. Nuh-uh. That’s way too deep for me. I’m not going down that rabbit hole with you.”

Xanhilt quirked his head to the side. “Must humans chase small creatures in their burrows to ask them these questions?”

“Human figure of speech.”

“Ah.” Xanhilt flicked his tongue a few times. “I feel that I am not a good representative of saurians. There are supposed to be procedures when meeting an alien creature that exhibits sapience.”

“It’s crazy that I’m being called the alien when you’re the alien,” John said. “At least from my perspective.”

Xanhilt turned away, barking raspily.

“Whoa, I didn’t mean to offend,” John said quickly.

“I’m not offended. I’m amused.”

“Oh.”

They sat around for a bit as the sun rose higher and the campfire crackled.

“So, this is real,” John said. “We’re going to settle on that together. And two days ago, we fought more than sixty monsters. Maybe seventy. And we get game experience, levels, and new abilities. All apart of someone else’s plan to make us heroes.”

“Why?” Xanhilt asked.

“Yeah, exactly. Why?” John felt like he should’ve asked these questions while they still had Dolala there. There were probably a lot of missed opportunities if he’d been more inquisitive.

“I should’ve investigated further,” Xanhilt said, shaking his head.

“You and me both. But I bet we weren’t in the right headspace, you know?”

“Yes, I think I do know. But it’s still shameful.”

“Nah. It can’t be.” John shrugged. “We’re learning a lot as fast as we can. It’s like… learning a new sport. You can’t get it all down on the first day.”

“Well, I took the liberty of identifying and studying my interface,” Xanhilt said. “And other than the both of us sharing [Brightlight Orb], which I can see as useful, I don’t understand why I have [Lightning of the Gods] and [Gale Stream].”

Before John continued this conversation, he took a look at his powers with identify. He started with the least exciting one first.

[Brightlight Orb, MCP 2] - cast away the gloom, shadow, and darkness with an orb of light that moves to your command. More MCP will increase the reach of its illumination.

It was a simple magical ability, but John still found it novel to make a ball of light appear whenever. It proved helpful when John had to maneuver through the mist and shed light on monsters on the way.

Now on to what was becoming his bread and butter.

[Ratel Rookie, MCP 8] - transform partially into a devilishly tenacious creature that will challenge others larger or stronger than them. While partially transformed, you’ll gain sharp claws, powerful jaws, and tough fur. Your strength, resilience, and stamina are boosted. Adding more MCP increases the boost effect.

[One Good Punch, Rank 2] - harbor the awe-mighty combination of divine magic and your inner power. Let its light shine through your arm. Then strike an enemy deserving of your wrath, delivering critical damage that scales with your strength and soul. It can only be used once between full rest periods.

John whistled at the descriptions of [Ratel Rookie] and [One Good Punch]. The latter was definitely powerful. He felt a pang of shame that he didn’t get to use it on the mauling shambler or the mimic, but he imagined he would get opportunities to use it more in the future.

Which isn’t a thought I should entertain, but it feels like that’s the reality of my situation.

He found it interesting that the blessing could only be used every once in a while. It hammered home the idea that magic could only push someone so far before they had to rest. There was no avoiding that, at least for now.

At the very least, my decision to put AP into [Strength] will pay off.

John switched his focus to [Ratel Rookie], which had turned out to be a clutch magic core. He could probably make the boost go up with more MCP, which would help with other future conflicts. There was one problem he had with it, though.

“Xanhilt, do you know what a ratel is?” John asked.

“I do not,” Xanhilt said, sounding embarrassed. “Should I know?”

“Nah. Cuz I don’t know either.” John tapped lightly against his forehead. “Whatever it is, that’s been my moneymaker.”

“Well, we’ve acquired a good amount of loot,” Xanhilt said.

Ah, yeah, this guy takes everything literally. John chuckled.

Xanhilt quirked his head, curious but silent.

Going back to his abilities, John figured he could add his available MCP to [Ratel Rookie]. He held back because he didn’t know what to make of the new magic core Xanhilt had looted from the mimic. Were they supposed to absorb its power somehow?

“Have you done anything with that?” John pointed at the glowing, multi-hued core sitting with the rest of their loot. It was the size of a golf ball, and it almost looked like a festive pearl lit up from the inside.

Xanhilt observed it. “I was uncertain of what to do with it. I’m unfamiliar with the term astral projection. I do understand that astral means stars. Projection means prediction or presentation. Would it allow us to predict the stars or present the stars?”

“Why not identify it further?” John asked, following through with his own advice.

It didn’t work. All he got back was [Astral Projection Magic Core].

“It seems our [Identify] talent needs to rank up further. Do you not have any knowledge regarding this?”

“I can’t say that I do, man,” John said. “I feel like I should know, but I haven’t gamed deep enough to know the ins and outs.”

“I’ve had a herbivore friend tell me about a game called cages and carnivores,” Xanhilt said. “It was meant for herbivores to play in secret, and I can see why. It is a game that would negatively mark them.”

“I have… or had a friend whose all about games like that,” John said. “He’d get bullied a lot until I stepped in. One day he invited me to game with him, and I agreed. It’s crazy to think if it wasn’t for him, I would be dead right now. Too bad I had a lot of boxing practice that kept me from gaming with him more.”

Xanhilt hummed throatily. “It seems our societies wish to look down on others who aren’t fitting of the mold. Yet, they are much needed.”

“Yep.”