Floating without thought, he simply existed within the cool darkness surrounding him. He wasn’t sure where he was or even who he was, but somehow any concerns couldn’t touch him. Minutes might have passed, or perhaps years, yet such concepts as time seemed like silly conceits within the inky blackness. An uncomfortable pressure tried to break through the peace, a nagging ache to snatch him away from his serenity. He ignored it, a piece of him understanding that any pain or anguish would be there for him soon enough.

A sound intruded next, loud enough to shake his shrouded existence. He tried to escape, to burrow down into the safe shadows again, but the loud buzzing persisted. Grimacing, he reached for a pillow to help block out the discordant noise, but his hands only brushed against a warm, smooth surface. His half-awake mind grappled with the incongruity, his probing hands slapping against his rock-hard bed before suddenly jerking awake.

BZZZZZZZZZZ!

“Ow. Guide, shut off the damn alarm,” Eli tried to say, but only incoherent mumbles escaped. He groaned, angry at being woken up by such an annoying sound. “Guide, turn off the alarm,” he repeated, but with almost painful enunciation and blissful silence was his reward. It was strange, though, since his alarm should have been set to his music playlist. He wasn’t sure why Guide would use that particular buzzing tone since it was supposed to be for emergencies.

Awareness smashed through the remaining fog, and his eyes flew open. A throbbing ache in his shoulder tried to snag at his attention, but he ignored it for now as he looked around while trying to get up off the hard surface. The warmth under his hands brought recognition, and he looked down to find the same off-white tiles. Above him, he found another floating sign - its semi-transparent display pivoted sharply down to reveal a new message.

“I won?” he slowly asked the world around him, not really expecting an answer. “How’d I win? Hell, how’d I survive?” The last thing he remembered, the big stone ape had been charging at him with all its cores glowing bright, but then nothing. “Damn. Did that thing blow up in my face?”

According to the HUD’s clock, he’d lost about an hour while unconscious. Since he was back within the weird holding cell of shadows, presumably safe for the moment, he’d focus on fixing himself – the sore twinge in his shoulder definitely needed some care. After all the practice he’d had over the past couple of weeks, he was getting pretty good at the whole healing thing.

Starting with a Lifesight scan at all the major vital points, he did a quick pass but didn’t find any issues. His brain looked fine, as did the rest of his organs. With the important stuff checked, he moved on, using the various aches to pinpoint the trouble spots. Like the other stages, there were quite a few problems to fix. He’d somehow managed to sprain his shoulder, which explained the pain. It only took a few waves of concentrated white energy within the area before the soreness evaporated. Somewhat surprised by the overall lack of serious problems, he figured that his buffs must have done a lot of work while he was knocked out.

He was fixing a nasty little puncture wound above his hip, likely from some tiny flying pebble, when he noticed his humming. A particular memory flashed through his mind of a summer day when it had only been him and his grandma in the rough years right after the Fall. The electricity had been out again, and his grandma had been entertaining him with stories while they played gin at their tiny coffee table. Of course, the tales were just movies from her childhood, but he hadn’t cared. Pretending like he didn’t know the whole thing by heart, she’d told him about a skinny kid doing a silly little kick to beat the bully in the end. She’d finished it with a song, and he could almost hear her beautiful voice singing about how Eli was the best around, and nothing would ever keep him down.

“Dang, I haven’t thought of that song in ages.”

A complicated jumble of emotions welled up in his chest, wondering how his grandma would have handled this whole adventure. She hadn’t been a very violent woman, usually able to defuse tricky situations with a bit of levity, but she hadn’t been a pushover either. Get between her and what she wanted, or endanger her family, and more than one thug had found out why she’d always carried a gun.

A whisper of sound, like a turning page, made him look up to the floating sign.

“What happens in ten minutes?” Hopefully, the newest surprise didn’t mean another fight. With the note about some counselor being assigned, he figured the battles were behind him for a bit. Then again, it was hard to be sure of anything anymore.

He shrugged away the concern, instead focusing on putting himself together to meet whoever or whatever showed up next. His clothes were a mess, and he pulled off his soiled shirt, turning it around and grimacing at its state. Shredded along the hem and one side almost soaked with his blood, it was little better than a nasty rag. It dropped on the tiles with a wet splat. He took off his linen pants next, but they looked a little better with much less blood and grime. There were some dark stains around the waistline, but a new shirt should hide most of them.

He picked up the remains of his shirt to store it away and stopped, staring at the light blue cloth in his hands. Somehow, much of the blood and sweat stains had disappeared from the shredded fabric, making it almost dry in seconds.

“Huh?”

Looking down, he caught a tiny smear of red dissolve into the tiles like water evaporating. He took a few quick steps back away from the strange tile but stopped when his mind caught up a heartbeat later. The warm floor didn’t feel any different, and he curled his toes several times as he processed the situation. Frowning, he used a thumbnail to scrape off some of the dried blood from his pants, watching the tiny dark spots sprinkle onto the tiles. Like snowflakes in early spring, they dissolved almost as soon as they touched the tiles. Crouching down, he rubbed a hand through his sweaty hair, flicking a few drops that disappeared almost instantly. Laying his hand flat on the tiles, he only felt the same warmth as always.

“How is this possible? Some kind of hydrophilic material, maybe? But wouldn’t that leave some residue behind?”

A glance at the timer jogged his mind, helping him focus on the important stuff. After all, a floor that soaked up fluids was a bit of a mystery, but it wasn’t harming him, and he only had minutes until the next surprise.

With that thought, he stood up and vigorously shook his pants, cracking them like a whip a few times to try to throw off some of the gunk. He then scraped a nail along the edge of the waistline, flaking off most of the dried blood. His shredded shirt disappeared, replaced with a clean light green one a moment later.

Not exactly ready, but feeling a bit better, he watched the timer reach zero. A familiar tap in his chest and the world shifted around him, green grass rising from the dissolving white tiles as a gentle breeze tickled his sweaty hairline. He inhaled, and the strangely familiar scent of grass, flowers, and musty earth intermingled together until a bit of tension in his neck and shoulders released. Taking another deep breath steeped with the fantastic fragrance of life, he turned to see more grass but froze, suddenly realizing he wasn’t alone.

A young woman stood among the knee-high grass, frowning while she looked him up and down. She was wearing a strange yellow jacket as bright as a blooming daffodil, the long-sleeved garment hanging low and loose over tight white pants. Only slightly taller than Dara, her long multicolored hair looked like a rainbow had been captured within their strands, the colors almost alive in their vibrancy.

“Uh, hello there,” Eli said slowly, trying to make sense of his new environment. The same black curtains had followed him into this new world, blocking the view overhead. Still, with the tall grass so full of life around them, he could easily imagine a bright blue sky filled with white puffy clouds hidden behind the dark barrier.

The woman looked away from him, her eyes scanning the darkness overhead. One eyebrow rose to disappear behind her side-swept bangs before her eyes returned to him, though her frown remained.

“A bit melodramatic, don’t you think?” she said, her voice rich and mature in contrast with her youthful appearance. Her hand gestured up and waved around before she shook her head almost sadly. “Why do I always get these types?” she muttered, barely loud enough for him to catch it.

“Huh? I’m sorry, but who are you?” Eli asked, again looking around but seeing nothing new. He felt suddenly self-conscious of his rough clothing, standing barefoot in a grass field before a beautiful woman who acted as if he’d just stepped in manure.

“I’m your counselor. Mudskippers, what do they teach kids these days.” She held out one small hand palm up towards him. “Give me your token. Come on,” she continued, her open hand curling impatiently when he didn’t move.

“Not to sound completely stupid, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. What token?” Eli asked, cocking his head to the side. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought he was dreaming again, but he wasn’t going to complain. Even with someone this rude, a pretty woman was worlds better than the Goon or some of the other nightmares he’d been having recently.

“Your trial token,” the woman responded, frown still in place even as she kept her hand extended to him.

He looked at the floating sign as if for help, noticing it had changed again.

“What the hell?” he muttered before his eyes returned to the woman again. “Yeah, I’ll need a little more to go on. Maybe explain it in simpler terms?”

“We’re going to play games then?” She asked, her angry tone going well with her fiery expression. “Fine,” she sniffed, lowering her hand. “You’re only wasting your own time. Do you remember completing a Trial? Probably only minutes ago?” Her words were spoken slowly and carefully, as if to a simpleton. “Well, when you completed the Trial, you were awarded a token. I need that to begin your assessment. So could you rub a couple of brain cells together in that giant skull of yours and find the dirt-drenched thing!” she ended in almost a shout.

Surprised and with dawning realization as a couple of details clicked together, he held out one hand palm up. “Give me the token,” he said like the last couple of times, but nothing happened. “Please give me the token?” he asked, unsure if he’d somehow messed it up, but his hand remained stubbornly empty.

He glanced over to find her eyes boring into him, her lips a firm line with her shoulders hitched up in tension. “Uh, I’m kinda new at all this stuff. I’m guessing this token is in my DS,” he said, holding up his hand where the bracelet sat attached at the wrist. “I’m just not very good at finding stuff in there. Whenever I look, it’s more random luck whether I pull out anything useful. Maybe you can describe it to me?”

Her mouth went slack as she blinked at him for a few moments before she lowered her head, pinching the bridge of her nose as if praying for patience. “I don’t know who gave you that thing,” she ground out with frustration lacing her words. “But they should get a thrashing for sending you off this unprepared.”

An image of Lugh getting such a beating flashed across his mind, but Eli managed to swallow the laughter that tried to erupt. He definitely didn’t want to see what would happen if this rainbow-haired spark plug thought he was laughing at her.

She lifted her head again, her eyes narrowed. “Assuming that’s a standard dimensional storage construct, start by imagining a bright open room filled with your junk. With your soulbound connection, you should innately grasp the size of the internal space. Then, send your consciousness within the space. It’s not like you need to understand the multi-dimensional fractals,” she finished with a hint of scorn coloring her words.

“It can’t be that easy,” he responded but followed her directions anyway. He visualized the space within his storage bracelet, about the same size as the dark warehouse he’d imagined for weeks. This time, though, he added a bunch of bright lights to the ceiling, feeling a little silly.

“No effing way,” he blurted in shock. Like flipping a light switch, the dark space lit up. The cubic area was maybe ten meters to a side and more than big enough to hold his stuff with room to spare. There were items scattered all over, some in little groupings while others were off on their own. In one corner, Bash leaned up against the wall. Nearby on the grey-carpeted floor, his last pair of pants lay neatly folded next to a bunch of bags he recognized from the cultists and bandits from weeks ago. Against the far wall were the strange musical instruments he’d come across in his first search through the DS, with shiny round stones in a neat little container beside them. With such a mess, it would take him a little while to organize everything the way he liked it. Still, excitement bubbled in his chest at finally seeing everything.

Aware of the frustrated woman standing before him, he glanced around for the token. “Now, what would a token from a ‘Trial of Might’ even look like?” he muttered to himself, his viewpoint within the space turning to glance at the nearby piles. A small object lying not too far from Bash suddenly caught his attention, a glow highlighting its edges. A moment later, a weight settled into his right hand, and a thick disk about the size of an Olympic medal sat nestled in his palm. It had a dark grey circle in the center surrounded by a wider ring of crimson edged in bright silver.

The woman’s hand flashed forward before he could react and snatched it away. She held it up to study it for a moment, and her frown briefly shifted into a surprised glance in his direction before the token vanished. Turning slightly away from him, she focused on something only she could see. “Trial of Might? Huh, I wouldn’t have expected that. Well, infinite possibilities and all that stuff,” she finished, her eyes slowly panning as if reading.