Kazuki lunged, wrist snapping forward. A stream of fizzy Fepsi shot out, splashing across the creature's back. The monster—a scrawny, rat-like thing with jagged teeth and matted fur—shrieked and spun, eyes wild with pain. It lunged at him, claws outstretched.
He sidestepped, heart pounding. This was the third monster today. Or maybe the fourth. The days had blurred together since he'd faced that terrifying, winged horror at the cliff. Since then, he'd been surviving, hunting, and testing his strange power.
He flexed his wrist again, imagining the Fepsi forming a wall between them. The liquid arced through the air, landing in a frothy barrier. The creature hesitated, claws raking at the bubbles, but it didn't break through.
"Still not strong enough," Kazuki muttered, "but it's something."
The creature lunged again. Kazuki imagined the Fepsi exploding in its face. He flexed his wrist. The liquid splashed, and the monster recoiled, its skin sizzling. It wasn't enough to kill it, but it was enough to slow it down. Kazuki grabbed a heavy stick and brought it down on the creature's head. It collapsed, twitching, then lay still.
Kazuki stood there, panting, wiping sweat from his brow. "Another one down," he said.
He knelt beside the creature, checking it for anything useful. As he did, he noticed the patches of blackened, sizzling skin where his Fepsi had landed. He touched the wound with a finger, then recoiled—the flesh was hot, almost burning. The liquid had eaten through fur and skin, leaving a raw, angry wound.
A memory flashed in his mind: the first time he'd tried his power on a leaf, watching it curl and blacken. The second time, he'd burned a hole through a
stick. But now, seeing it on a living creature, it was different. More real. More dangerous.
He'd figured out the acid in his Fepsi. He could make it burn, or sizzle, or stick. But it was weak. The effects were only a small fraction of what he imagined.
He'd also noticed something else: when he fought, when he used his power, he could feel something in the air. Tiny, invisible particles that swirled around him, filling him with energy. He didn't know what they were, but he knew they were important. He'd tried to absorb more of them, to make his power stronger, but he didn't know how.
Kazuki gathered the creature's body and started back toward his camp. As he walked, he flexed his wrist, testing the tingling sensation. It was always there, waiting. He imagined the Fepsi forming a circle in the air. He flexed his wrist. The liquid splashed, but it didn't form a circle. It just splashed.
He sighed. "Still only a tiny fraction of what I imagine."
He reached his camp—a small clearing near the mouth of a cave. He'd lined the entrance with branches and leaves, made a bed of moss, and built a fire pit from stones. It wasn't home, but it was safe.
He set the creature down and started a fire. As the flames crackled, he sat back, watching the smoke curl into the sky. He thought about the last few days. He'd survived. He'd learned. He'd grown stronger. But he was still weak. The acid was weak. The effects were only a small fraction of what he imagined. He needed to get stronger.
He looked around at the forest, at the path ahead. He didn't know what lay in store for him, but he was ready to find out.
As he sat by the fire, Kazuki's mind drifted back to his old life—to Tokyo, to the crowded streets, to the loneliness and the regret. He'd been a nobody, drifting through his days, too scared to take risks, too afraid to chase his dreams. The only thing that had kept him going was his love for heroes like Schpider-man, who faced impossible odds and never gave up.
Now, here he was, in a world where the impossible was real. He remembered the Goddess of Second Chances, Luminara, and the opportunity she'd given him. A chance to start over. A chance to be someone new.
Kazuki clenched his fists. He wasn't going to waste this. He wasn't going to be a coward anymore. He was going to use this life to its utmost—to push himself, to achieve something big, to live without regrets.
He stood up, flexing his wrists. The tingling was stronger than ever. He looked around at the forest, at the boundaries he'd marked, at the paths he'd explored. He'd learned so much, but he knew there was more out there. He couldn't stay in the safety of the familiar forever.
He packed what little he had—some meat, a waterskin, a few tools he'd made—and set off, determined to go beyond the region of the forest he'd discovered so far.
Kazuki walked for hours, his senses alert. He passed the markers he'd left behind, the trees he'd carved with his knife, the rocks he'd piled to mark his way. There was no chance of him getting lost—he'd mapped this part of the forest well.
As he went farther and farther, he could feel the atmosphere changing. The air grew cooler, the trees less dense. The sounds of the forest faded behind him, replaced by a quiet, open stillness. He walked until his legs ached, until his feet were sore, until the sun began to dip below the horizon.
He was exhausted, tired, but he kept on going. He wasn't going to turn back. Not now.
Soon, he reached the boundary of the forest. The trees thinned, then stopped altogether. Ahead, as far as he could see in the fading light, stretched grasslands and rolling hills. The world opened up before him, vast and unknown.
It was almost night, and he couldn't see far, but he knew this was a new beginning. He set up a simple camp at the border, using branches and leaves to make a rough shelter. He built a small fire, ate a little of the meat he'd brought, and lay down, staring up at the stars.
He felt a mix of fear and excitement. He was leaving the safety of the forest behind, stepping into the unknown. But he was ready.
The next morning, Kazuki woke with the dawn. He stretched, rubbed his eyes, and looked out over the grasslands. The sun was rising, painting the hills in gold. In the distance, something caught his eye—something he hadn't seen the night before.
Far away, standing like a dark, jagged thumb against the horizon, was a mountain. It wasn't just any mountain—it looked volcanic, its slopes dark and steep, its peak lost in a wisp of smoke or cloud. It was far enough that he knew it would take a long time to reach, but it called to him, a landmark in this new, open world.
Kazuki packed up his camp, shouldered his makeshift bag, and set off toward the mountain. He had nowhere else to go. The markings he'd left behind in the forest couldn't guide him any further; he was stepping into the unknown now.
The journey across the grasslands was long and monotonous. The sun beat down on his back as he walked, the wind whispering through the tall grass. He passed hills and hollows, the landscape rolling endlessly before him.
Sometimes he saw strange birds circling in the sky, or heard the distant calls of creatures he couldn't name. He walked for hours, his legs aching, his mind wandering. The mountain never seemed to get any closer, but he kept going, driven by curiosity and the need to find some new purpose.
Eventually, the land began to rise, and the grass gave way to rocky outcrops and patches of blackened earth. The air smelled of sulfur and ash, and the ground crunched underfoot. The mountain loomed ahead, its sheer size overwhelming up close. From a distance, it had seemed imposing; now, it was colossal, its dark slopes stretching impossibly high into the sky.
Kazuki reached the base and craned his neck, trying to see the summit. The mountain was far steeper than he'd imagined, its sides almost sheer in places. He tried to find a way up, but every route he attempted was too dangerous, the rock slick and unstable. He couldn't climb it.
Undeterred, he began to circle the mountain, walking along its base from the left side, searching for another way. The ground was uneven, strewn with boulders and patches of loose scree. He picked his way carefully, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and unease.
After what felt like forever, he found it—an entrance. The mountain was hollow, its side opening into a vast cavern. The entrance was enormous, as if carved for some titanic beast to pass through. It gaped wide, its mouth dark and foreboding, inviting and intimidating all at once.
Kazuki hesitated at the threshold, swallowed hard, and stepped inside. The air was cool and still, heavy with the scent of stone and ancient dust. The cavern was vast, its walls and ceiling lost in shadow. He walked deeper, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The only light came from the entrance behind him, casting long, eerie shadows across the uneven floor.
The cavern was mostly empty, its floor littered with black rocks and patches of fine ash. He sat on a large, smooth boulder for a while, catching his breath and looking around. It was darker the farther he went, the shadows thick and impenetrable.
But as his eyes adjusted, he noticed something extraordinary. In one corner of the cavern, there was another entrance—not just a passage, but a massive hole leading to a vast, yawning pit. The opening was enormous, its edges rough and jagged, as if something immense had burrowed through the mountain's heart.
Kazuki crept closer, curiosity drawing him in. He peered over the edge, straining to see into the darkness. The pit was deep, its bottom lost in shadow. He leaned in, trying to make out any details, his heart pounding in his chest.
What he saw next was something he never expected—something that sent a chill down his spine and left him breathless.
A dragon. Not just any creature, but a monstrous, ancient beast, its body coiled in the depths of the pit. The dragon was massive, its scales glinting like burnished metal in the faint light. It was sleeping, its sides rising and falling with slow, powerful breaths.
Kazuki had never been so terrified in his life. The monster he'd faced in the forest felt like an ant compared to this. His legs shook, his breath caught in his throat. He turned to flee, his movements clumsy with fear.
In his haste, his foot dislodged a small rock. It tumbled down the side of the pit, bouncing off the stone until it struck the dragon's massive side with a faint clatter.
The dragon stirred, its eyes flickering open. It raised its head, confused, still half-lost in sleep. Then it caught a glimpse of the human scrambling backward, trying to escape.
Anger flared in its ancient eyes. The dragon spread its wings—vast, leathery things that filled the pit—and began to flap them, stirring the air into a violent storm. It charged toward the entrance, its body erupting from the pit with terrifying speed.
Kazuki ran as fast as he could, his heart hammering, his legs burning with effort. He had never run this fast before. He glanced back and saw the dragon emerge from the cavern, its body a blaze of crimson, its eyes burning with fury. Its wings unfurled, blotting out the sky, and it let out a roar that shook the mountain.
In his panic, Kazuki tripped over a small rock on the ground and fell hard, his breath driven from his lungs. He scrambled to his feet, but the dragon was already bearing down on him, its eyes locked on his fleeing form.