Cyril thought for a moment and decided that it was too early to get out. He still hadn't reached the underground river, so he kept digging.

It was getting more and more difficult to dive. First, after each second successfully scooped up a handful, half returned back, not reaching the surface. Second, the sandy ground beneath his feet crumbled. This kind of ground was harder to row. Third, Cyril was finally getting tired.

"Shit." He muttered. "I've been digging for maybe six hours. I can't see a damn thing, there's kinda muck under my feet. And I wanna eat!"

The emotional cry was lost in the darkness of the vertical shaft, but Cyril continued to squish with his feet and hands.

"Aaargh!"

He got angry and started waving his hands furiously, scooping up some of the liquid mud, throwing it into the circle of light above his head, stooping to scoop it up again, and throwing it up again. With each movement, he worked faster, and soon did not notice that he began to see much better.

Only when a jewel flashed before his eyes did Cyril stop.

What is it? He was surprised and raised the stone to his face. Hold on. When did it get so light here?

He looked around. Looked up. There, fifteen meters overhead, was daylight. The walls were still dark, and the bottom was still in shadow. But still, Cyril could see the blue gem in his hands, and the roughness of the walls. It was as if he were looking at a black-and-white blurry photograph, but he could distinguish colors.

Can I see in the dark?

He held the blue gemstone even closer to his eyes, and, for a second, he saw a reflection there. He thought he was imagining it, and shook his head. But the vision didn't disapear. He still could see the gemstone. He looked again, and now he could clearly see the reflection of his face in that gem.

This is definitely my face. He thought. But what's wrong with my eyes?

His usually brown eyes were yellow. He looked more closely and saw individual flames in them. Being small enough to fit in an eye, the flame was no different from an ordinary fire.

So this is what I look like when I lose control. Cyril realized. That's why people get so scared and freeze in place.

He stared at his reflection again and again, studying those new eyes. After a couple of minutes, he realized that he looked awesome, and he wanted to yell fucking great!, but only a growl came out.

"Aaargh!"

Piss'n'shit! He swore to himself. I still can't control my speech. However, I can stand still and even control my hands!

"So fucking great!"

It worked!

Overjoyed, Cyril put the gem in his mouth and continued to dig. He didn't want to lose it, but there was no other place to hide.

Except for my ass. A thought blasted, but he rejected the idea.

Now he was moving with even greater speed. To realize how fast he could move, Cyril began to count. It turned out that in about ten seconds, he raked twenty times.

It might not seem so fast, but Cyril was sinking his straight hand completely into the wet earth, standing bent double. Then he threw out a handful of earth from the side of the opposite shoulder, making a turn with his whole body. The handful went up and flew to the circle of daylight, disappearing outside.

I don't know how I got this incredible speed, but it's pretty damn cool. Cyril thought to himself as he continued to work. Wish I could understand what was the trigger for the Berserker state this time?

Cyril replayed what had happened to him.

I was angry.

He realized that it was anger that had made him work faster five minutes ago.

It must have activated my abnormal powers when I got angry. Cyril realized. So if I can control my emotions, I can control my body, too.

Thinking, he continued to dig, and suddenly the ground beneath him crumpled like an old sofa. Startled, Cyril froze. A second passed, and the ground went down.

I'm failing!

He sank knee-deep, waist-deep, chest-deep, and the wet soil engulfed his throat. When Cyril thought that his face was going to be buried in the earth, the soil crumbled all over the circle. He fell into the water.

"Holy shit!" Cyril shouted, choking on the water.

He began to row to avoid drowning. The water was rushing under his feet, but it was slowly filling the shaft, lifting Cyril up.

"Fear made me lose my strength! Cough cough!" He spat and coughed, but kept on rowing.

The water in the shaft began to swirl and boil. From below, the stream sucked Cyril into an underground river. From above, the water gradually became calmer.

"If I row, I'll stay on the surface." He said to himself to calm his fear. "If I stop, I'll sink to the bottom."

He continued to work with his feet and hands until he realized what he was doing.

"I'm a moron! Freeze!" Cyril exclaimed, and froze.

The current began to pull him slowly to the bottom. The basic instinct of self-preservation led him to seek salvation. Cyril was so happy to be able to control his body that he forgot about his main goal.

Your job is to die, you idiot. He swore to himself as he sank into the cold water. This is your chance.

However, his body felt dangerous again. Cyril's eyes lit up, heating the water, and his arms and legs began to row even harder, lifting Cyril back up.

No! I don't want to! He shouted to himself. How do I stop you? What kind of fucking emotion is needed here?!

Cyril tried to resist, tried to think of what he should feel to force his body to regain control. Primal fear helped last time. But there was no way he could consciously cause fear. And he couldn't cheat his body, either.

Soon his body floated out, and Cyril saw the circle of evening light looming over his head. A pale moon appeared far above. The ground was only a few meters away. The water calmed, and Cyril regained control of his body.

"Gurgle." He called, taking the blue gem from his mouth.