“Hmm, I think this one is too short,” Jacked pointed at a short homeless man with a shaved head. He scrunched his eyebrows and scratched his beard like he was making the most important decision in his life.

“What is this for anyway?” Amihan looked bored. “I think the one before looked better than this one.”

“Dumog is not coming back, the debt probably scared him or something. I have to get my money back somehow, and I didn’t get to harvest his organs. I was pretty confident that he’d stick around,” he lifted the homeless man’s mouth to check his molars. The man complied without question, his eyes devoid of life or motivation.

“Are you sure he didn’t just get lost? Oh that one is quite similar to him, even has a diaper on,” she pointed at another man with a shaved head. Amihan was weirdly getting into this, like a game to her.

“Damn, you're right! He even has that creepy smile.”

They jogged over to the homeless man. He looked very similar to Dumog, though some features like his nose and ears were exaggerated. A confused and dazed look clouded his eyes, almost like he wasn’t aware of his own existence. In a perpetual state of bliss, happiness, and ignorance.

Jacked grabbed the man’s left shoulder. Another hand landed on the other side, a feminine hand that was definitely not Amihan’s. Nox panted, leaning on the man for support. It took her a while until she noticed Jacked.

“I found him first!” Nox shouted at him.

“I touched him first!” he retorted.

These two Archmages argued and caused a scene in the middle of the homeless camp. It forced Amihan to blend in with the crowd, not wanting to be seen with them. The homeless man remained in between them, oblivious.

“What do you need one of these for? I thought you experimented with your own body, baldy,” she started pulling the man towards herself.

“I do, and I need a new disciple,” he tugged back in response.

“So you do get your students from here. Your pouch feeling light after your investment ran off?” Nox’s cackle didn’t match her face.

“Let go,” Jacked kicked her shin.

“Bitch,” she clawed his bald head with her new resin nails, drawing blood and leaving 4 claw marks on the top of his head.

“Assault! The Mayor’s advisor is committing assault! She’s attacking and abusing me with magic!” Jacked yelled to the crowd forming around them.

They all laughed. Amihan judged them from the sides for treating the ill man as not a person.

“They don’t care. Even if they do report me, city hall wouldn’t give them the time of day. Who would listen to their voice? Be a good junior and give him to me,” she pulled on the man harder.

“Why do you even need him? You haven’t done any research in years.”

“Like you, I have my own student now. The mayor’s son has been learning under me since last week.”

“The creepy kid? Why would a 6 year old need to learn how to do a live experiment?”

“His parents were right for the first time, the kid is a genius. Cletus went through several years of the basics in a few days. Sometimes it feels like I’m the younger one when we’re talking.” Nox had a blank stare on her face.

“Damn, my previous one could barely do push ups.”

“Anyway, the mayor’s son specifically requested for a short man with a shaved head.”

The unwell man smiled at them. They both saw resemblances of Dumog in him. Nox removed her hand off his bare shoulder, realizing why her student requested it.

“That’s creepy as shit,” Jacked said.

“Stop wasting my time, how are we settling this?” She crossed her arms.

“I have an idea. We both stand a few paces away from him and we make him choose.”

“Deal,” she shook hands with Jacked.

“Treating him like a pet, damned wizards,” Amihan commented from the sides.

Jacked grinned and hid his hands within his sleeves, thumbing a vial. He wasn’t the only one who thought of cheating. Nox had a spray bottle filled with an attraction potion in her sleeves as well.

They stood opposite of each other, with the homeless man in between them. Some of the spectators started betting the little money and possessions they had.

“Ready when you are,” Nox grinned at Jacked.

“Amihan, you count us down,” Jacked pointed at her, his eyes trained on Nox.

“3, 2, 1, go!”

Nothing happened in the first half of the minute, the man just stood there looking around. Jacked and Nox had sprayed their concoctions on themselves. This caused the man and the others surrounding them to sniff the air.

He finally made a move, walking around in circles. From time to time, he’d walk towards one of them then change direction when he got near. This went on for five minutes, causing the gamblers to be on edge. The man suddenly went into a slight job, stopping in front of Amihan.

“Fish!” He exclaimed through his toothless grin.

“We won!” Jacked laughed at Nox. “Suck it, bitch!”

“Not fair!” Nox stormed off, stomping her feet. A trail of men following her.

“Welcome to the team, now let’s get out of this dump,” Jacked went on ahead. Like Nox, he had a line of men trailing behind him.

The homeless man continued to stare at Amihan, his dumb grin still on his face. Amihan sighed and walked away, defeated.

***

He puked his stomach out, it was nothing but water. Dumog didn’t know if he had gone blind or if he was in a dark place. Touching the floor, he knew that it was likely that he was in a cave. The sound of running water came from behind him, an underground river.

Sitting down, he tried to recollect the events that had happened to him. The last thing that he could remember was falling down and hitting his head. No river or any form of water in his memories. His stomach rumbled, with that information he was certain that more than a day had passed.

It was impossible for him to make out anything in his surroundings. The possibility of being blind haunted him, it was the first time in his life to experience this level of darkness. He decided to remain still, knees to his chest. Dumog terrified himself with the idea of unseen creatures lurking around him, unseen.

After slowly turning in place for a while, he noticed a faint color orange in the corner of his eye. On all fours, he crawled towards it. Extending his hands and feeling what was in front made him feel like a baby. Wearing a diaper definitely didn’t help. But it was something he needed to do, he could not afford any more injuries. And he was pretty sure he had a concussion, another hit to his head could mean death for him.

The faint orange light seemed to get brighter, a sign that he was getting closer. He hoped it was as warm as it looked, he sniffled and sneezed as he crawled.

Extending his hand, he jammed his finger hitting a stone wall. Feeling along it, he discovered that it led to a corridor. He was starting to make out shapes and the faint warm light casted some shadows. Dumog continued forward.

The corridor led him to a room he could finally see in. Coated in an orange hue, it was a small space with some stalagmites and rocks thrown about. It was still too dark to walk around in with confidence, but it was leagues better than the previous ones he was in.

In the middle of the room was the source of the light. A round boulder that glowed within its cracks. Its size reminded him of a horse laying on the ground.

Still not trusting the strength of his legs and his overall condition, he crawled towards the boulder like a baby. He leaned on it, the heat coming from it wasn’t hot enough to burn him. The warmth almost immediately knocked him out as he finally relaxed. Or it could be brain damage.

Sense of time started to slip past him. A sharp pain would periodically wake him from his slumber, but he kept putting it off. He expected that he would have injuries all over his body, he was too tired to check it and prioritized getting his energy back.

Dumog stretched his arms and yawned as if he was still in his room at Savepoint, he’d rather wake up there instead of the dark cave. It was impossible to guess the time or how long it had been since he had fallen in, the space he was in looked the exact same.

The sharp pain made him stand up. He looked around with the little light that he had, it was still all rocks. Now wide awake he got a better look at the boulder that had kept him warm and dry. The orange light was still in its cracks, pulsating. Getting real up close to it, he could see that the cracks looked like a scripture with a hexagon surrounding it.

He walked around the boulder, trying to get a better look at it. Dumog was once again wrong.

Hazy, half open, orange eyes stared at him. It was a giant turtle, or something that he would call a turtle in his previous world. Its jaw slack, magma dripped out of it. Another shot of pain came from his left forearm. He swatted at it, a small rock flew into the small magma pool on the ground.

Four limbs and a head popped out of the rock. It was a miniature version of the giant creature in front of him, without the glowing. Then, it absorbed the magma on the ground. As that happened, the light from the giant turtle dimmed until it was gone. It was now lifeless, a statue that captured the final moments of its life.

As the giant turtle lost all of its light and warmth, the small one gradually got brighter and hotter. It stared right at Dumog’s eyes and opened its maw wide open. It let out a squeak.

“What the fuck just happened?” He asked no one.

The glowing turtle walked up to his boots and winded up a chomp directed to the metal plates on it.

“Woah! Come on man. I just got these kicks,” he picked the turtle off the ground. A part of him expected it to be extremely hot, which made him flinch.

The intensity of the turtle’s light dimmed as his skin touched its shell. From a hot oven to a warm compress, its temperature drastically changed.

“You feel pretty nice,” he cupped the small turtle in his hands. “Is this your parent?” The turtle chomped on his finger, making him yelp. “You don’t seem to care that you sucked the life out of them,” he accused the turtle. It responded by biting harder.

Using the turtle as a light source, he inspected the dead one. Going around it a couple of times it now just looked like a statue to him. He placed a hand on its shell, cold like metal. CHecking to see if it actually was, he struck it with his knuckles. A low hum resonated in him and within the room.

He placed the little turtle on top of the dead one and started pulling one of the hexagons on its shell. The turtle started eating bits of the dead one’s shell as well. Dumog wasn’t sure if it was cannibalism, so he continued pulling.

After expending all his strength and applying his body weight, it popped off. Dumog fell on his ass, holding the plate of unknown metal. From the moment he saw it he thought that it would make a good shield. The problem now was that he didn’t have a sling or handle to wield it. For now it was simply a heavy sheet of metal.

It covered his entire upper body, shoulder to waist. Its weight was too heavy for Dumog to wield confidently even after he gets handles for it. He couldn’t complain much about it because he had been unarmed since he came to this world.

Walking back to the turtle, he saw it had eaten a good portion of the dead one’s back. It spat out hot magma towards Dumog as he approached. Not knowing what to do next, he grabbed the turtle as it was his only source of light. Again, it didn’t burn him.

Upon further inspection, Dumog questions if it was closer to a turtle or a tortoise. It had the legs of a tortoise, but it wouldn’t be wrong to call it a turtle if it was. For now, he called it turtle.

Turtle in hand, he walked around the small room. There was nothing but rocks in it and the temperature started getting colder. He went around it looking for an exit, he had already checked the previous room with the river. There were no openings in there as well and he didn’t want to swim in the dark, there was no telling how deep or how long the river went.

“What would Amihan do in this situation?” He asked the turtle. “Knowing her she’d probably not end up here in the first place,” he laughed, the turtle just looked at him. “Hmm, she’d find an exit by using something unrelated huh. Like how she found the town following the smoke.”

A soft gust of wind passed by him, sending shivers throughout his bare body. Goosebumps prickled his skin, thankful that he was dry or else he’d have a cold by now.

“Chilly in here now,” he rubbed his arm and kept the turtle close to him. “Why would there be wind down here? Actually, how am I breathing right now, is there oxygen down here?”

The turtle just looked at him with its orange eyes. Dumog didn’t know if it could understand him, he didn’t know what all the intelligent species looked like.

Then it hit him, another breeze. He followed the direction it came from and stopped at a wall. Waiting for another breeze to come, he pointed the turtle around the wall to illuminate it. It came again, this time from above. Shining light on the ceiling revealed a hole.

“Of course it would come from outside,” he looked at the turtle. “Sorry buddy, you’re going to have to be in my pocket for a while,” Dumog placed it in his makeshift pocket he made from fabric scraps he salvaged off the Ratfolk’s tattered clothes. He could feel the turtle’s warmth on his front thigh. The metal plate shoved behind his diaper, a large portion of it jutted out making him look like a turtle himself.

With a small hop, he climbed up into the hole without light. Luckily for him it wasn’t all going up, the path twisted and turned. Though he had to crawl and squeeze his way through all of it.

The fear of getting crushed by rocks or getting stuck in the cramped space scared him. But Dumog let his blind optimism take over, motivating him to crawl through it for what seemed like hours. He wanted to go back to his new home, his new friends. If he died again he might not have another chance at living, he had to try in this life.

There was light at the end of the tunnel, it wasn’t white though. It was yellow and orange, the color a fire would make. This excited him as all his crawling would have been worth it. But as he got closer he remembered what Amihan said about smoke and fire, people. He wasn’t alone and he wasn’t sure if they were nice.

The closer he crawled to the end of the tunnel the louder the voices got. Dumog couldn’t understand a single word they spoke. The owners of these voices were not the ones blessed by the Goddess of Language, the ones who did not reach that intelligence baseline.

Dumog crawled out, he sighed in relief when he noticed that the voices were a bit farther away. He dared not stand, continuing to crawl forward. It turned out that he was on a ledge overlooking the space below, where the voices and the fire came from. Crawling to the edge, he remained hidden while trying to take a peek. What he saw solidified that he was in danger.