“Yohan!”

The voice, a different voice, called out. Then a rough hand shook me and pulled me away from the blinding light. 

I opened my eyes.

Andrew stood in front of me, his brows tense and jaw clenched. His face relaxed for a second before quickly settling into a deep frown. It reminded me of my mother whenever I’d come home late from hanging out with Axela. 

“Did you go near the one at your heart?” 

I flinched at the sudden firmness in his voice. 

“Uh…” 

He cleared his throat, gazing deep into my eyes, as if he wanted to pull out the thoughts from my head and reveal whatever I'd hid away in there. I looked away from him before doing it of my own accord. 

“Y-Yes?” 

His grip on my arm tightened. 

“You!” He bellowed, shaking me in fury. “Why didn’t you listen to me?”

“S-sorry.” I lowered my head, wincing at his iron grip. “I . . . I got too excited.” 

He drew back in surprise and looked down at my arm. The second he saw the red welt, he released his grip like he'd been touching a hot pan. His eyes widened, voice shrinking into a low whisper. 

“Did I . . . Did I hurt you?”

“N-no.” I bit my lip again, lying through my shaky teeth. “Well, n-not really.” 

His shoulders slumped and a self-deprecating smile fleeted across his lips. 

“So, I did hurt you. Again.” 

He turned away, staring down at the floor.

“I’m sorry kid.”

“I-It’s okay!" I waved my hands. "Doesn’t even hurt that much." 

"And I messed up too. So . . ." I gave him a small smile. "Makes us even, right?”

“That’s not the point here,” he shook his head, sighing slightly. He looked back at me, eyes glistening like a jewel coated in warm chocolate. 

“I know it’s a lot to ask after . . . after everything I’ve done to you. I've been a heartless tormentor. A bastard. And even now, I . . . I'm still quick-tempered. I'm not perfect, but if there's one thing I'm good at, it's this. So, please, next time, trust me.” 

His bottom lip quivered. 

“I don’t want to lose you too.” 

“I-I won’t do it again.” 

“Well, actually,” he chuckled, smiling. “I might need you—just to check if the Awakening went well—to do it again. Since you've already accessed the primary M-Space—the Inventory—there shouldn’t be another rebound effect.”

He finished speaking and gave me a nod. I hesitated for a second before he shattered my reluctance with a Hollywood smile.

Damn you and your photogenic expressions.

After an annoyed mutter, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, bringing the strange force out. Slowly, I directed it towards the space at my chest. Right before the M-Force entered, I remembered. 

The pain. 

I stopped, opening my eyes and glancing back at him. He put a hand on my shoulder.

“You’ve got this, kid. I’m here if anything happens.” 

I swallowed dryly.. Then, I closed my eyes and opened the Inventory for the second time. 

Flash.

A wide, empty space. Wider than anything I’d seen before. Maybe even a star could fit inside.

It was different from the M-Spaces near my fingers. Larger, yes—much, much larger. But, there was something else that I couldn’t place my finger on. I turned around—

I blinked. 

Was that me? 

Andrew's muffled voice called out.

“So, what do you see?” 

“M-my body?” 

I stuttered, unsure of what exactly it was. It was like a gigantic model of myself . . . naked.¹Image has clothes on b/c i no have time to change it lol

“What? You can see it?” 

My voice faltered at his shock.

“Is-is that bad?” 

“No, it’s amazing!” His voice gushed with excitement. “Incredible, kid! You’ve already discovered one of the subsidiary M-Space. This'll make things much easier when we find hero gear.” 

“Hero gear?”

“Armor. Accessories. Equipment. Magical items that will let you become a hero that battles the forces of evil. And let you survive to tell the tale. It will—”

A sudden snap cut off his words. The space disappeared. My eyes flew wide open, and, for the first time since arriving in this world, my body felt drained—physically and mentally. I felt like I hadn't slept in days.

Then, my legs stopped working.

“A-Andrew, I—“

He caught me in his firm grip. 

“Don’t worry, I got you kid.” 

Broken sentences left my mouth. 

“W-why . . . I so t-tired?” 

He shook his head and ruffled my hair. I was too tired to even be annoyed at him. 

“Stress. Mental exhaustion. Overuse of the M-Force. Honestly, I was expecting for you to reach your limit a long time ago.” 

“H-huh?” I asked, my eyelids starting to droop. 

He sighed. 

“You're still a newbie kiddo. I just wanted you to be free and experiment around, but I . . ." He scratched his head, an awkward smile stretching across his flushed cheeks. "I didn’t predict that you’d access the Inventory already, much less one of its subspaces.”

I nodded at his words without really understanding them, the urge to sleep about to overwhelm me. But, before I followed its call, I needed to ask. Ask him about the reason why I’d stayed.

“H-hey, Andrew, can ask . . . you something?” 

“Of course, kid.” 

“Axeewa." I slurred. "Axela Heracles. You knnoww her?” 

The arms carrying me became rock. Bricks, even. A mix of emotions flashed across his face. 

Love. Hatred. Anger. Fear. 

“Why?” His voice grew cold, shaky. “How . . . How do you know her?” 

I was only able to say four words. Four words before the entire world returned to endless darkness. They were the same exact words I’d told my mother when she’d ridiculed her right in front of her face. 

“She's my best friend.” 

And I succumbed to sleep's inescapable call. I woke up to sunlight streaming into my face. The birds were chirping. I rose in a frenzy, gaze darting across the room, searching for the nearest window.

One to my left. 

H-Home?! 

The sight of the forest mercilessly answered the question with a firm refusal. I sighed, rubbing the dry rheum off my eyes before standing up. A familiar silk blanket fell to the floor, previously draped over me. 

I felt refreshed—like I’d slept a perfect eight hours, with a great day ahead to look forward to. Right now, however, a man sat on a chair in front of me, eyes bloodshot. He stared at the wall, and I slowly approached him, whispering. 

“Andrew?” 

At the sound of his name, he flinched and turned around, meeting my gaze. His eyes were filled with a deep, endless shade of red. Like blood and old wine. 

“Axela?” He croaked, his voice filled with longing. With pain. Regret. Then, he blinked, eyes regaining clarity before they widened. 

“Y-Yohan." His body went rigid. "It's you.”  

I nodded slightly. Then, with upturned brows, I crossed my arms and gave him an eyeful. 

“So, you knew her. Axela." He flinched at her name. "The same Axela I know, right? Short. Like, really short. Blonde hair. Most awkward glasses you’ve ever seen. That Axela?” 

A frown and deep creases settled onto his face, and he returned me a reluctant nod.

I sighed.

“You don’t want to talk about it right now, do you?”

He nodded again. I let out another sigh. 

“Okay," I shrugged. "I’m hungry. Is there anything to eat?” 

It was a lie of course—I didn't feel hungry at all. I never had since arriving here, in this strange world. In Terraria. But, I wanted him to cheer up. I didn’t want the only person I knew so far on this godforsaken world to be depressed, that was for sure. 

His body jerked up, and he glanced back at me, brows lifted up as he mouthed with his lips, ‘You’re not going to ask?’ 

I shook my head with a smile.

“It’s just me and you here. We have plenty of time to talk about things, along with you teaching me more about M-Force and this world. Terraria. Though, I do want to know what happened. But, I’m guessing she’s a hero too, no?” I asked, arching my brow. 

He nodded. 

“And have any of the heroes died yet?”

". . ."

“Andrew?” My heart sank. 

“N-no." He nodded quickly. "No . . . current heroes have died yet.”  

I sighed. Okay. Good. My main worry was out of the way. If Axela was a hero, then I wasn’t too worried about her. She was the damned best gamer I knew, among other things. And in this world that seemed more like a game by the second, she’d had to have survived. 

Or no one else would have. 

“Is she caught in some prison or something?” I asked the question half-ironically with a roll of my eyes.

He flinched. 

“You . . . you could say it’s something like that.” 

I raised a brow in surprise, chuckling a bit as I walked up and leaned on table, next to him. I grinned.  

“And what’d she do? Didn’t want to kill some evil monster? Some eyeball thing?” 

Hell, Axela wouldn’t even kill a mosquito. Something about all living things had the right to live. Mosquitos were not on that list—not for me, at least. Yeah, I admit it. We had a lot of talks about morally difficult issues. In fact, I think the fights—ahem, discussions—were the times I was fond of the most. The times before everything changed.  

His hands curled into fists. 

“Yes. She was too . . . too kind.” 

He looked up at me, and for the second time since we’d met, he hadn’t been able to stop the tears. 

I paused for a second, a sudden ache in my chest. I laughed half-heartedly.

“So, I assume you don’t want to tell me who’s locked her up? I don't mind—” 

“I can’t.”

It was a reply I wasn’t expecting. 

“You can’t?” I frowned. Hell, I didn’t mind before—just knowing that Axela was safe was fine. But now, I was curious. Who was so important that he couldn’t tell me who it was? 

The look he gave me—one begging not for me to continue—was familiar. This time, I didn’t press on. 

I forced a smile. 

“Fine. But, she is safe, right? No execution, death trial, or something of the sort?” 

He bit his lip, hesitation flashing briefly on his face. His fists balled up even more, the veins pulsing as he forced out a bitter “yes.” 

I was suspicious, yes. A bit angry too, considering what he had promised me. But, this was mirroring yesterday’s conversation far too much—I had to let it go and move on to something else. Axela was safe. Captured, yes, but safe. That was all that mattered. I’d go look for her after mastering M-Force and figuring out how the hell things in this world worked. But, for now, I didn't want to push him again. God knows what else he might do if I did. 

“So, uh, about breakfast,” I started, looking at his sullen figure meekly. “Did you ever make that rabbit—er, bunny soup?” 

His eyes lit up and he wiped his face with both hands before giving me his usual chuckle. The ache in my chest eased. 

“Not yet. But, it’s coming right up. If  . . . if you want it?”

I nodded. 

Immediately, out of nowhere—though I  assumed it was from the M-Space—a dead bunny appeared, alongside a cooking pot. They both floated in Andrew’s hands, like small, computerized models. It looked like how I thought blocks would look like from that game—Minecraft— in real life. 

The miniature cooking pot in his hand disappeared and, I kid you not, a full-sized cooking pot literally popped up on the floor.

I blinked. 

Before I could even think, the pot lit up and the rabbit burst into light particles. By then, I swore nothing else could faze me. And then a bowl of piping hot stew appeared from thin air. 

. . . 

Okay, yeah, I know. I should've been used to it by now, right? The teacup was the same thing, after all. But, it made sense for a glass bottle filled with water to transform into a teacup. Like the glass became the cup and the water became tea—okay, now that I think about it some more, I guess it doesn’t make that much sense. But, like, where did the bowl even come from? The air?! 

I shook my head, my equivalent-exchange-instincts twitching. 

“I will never get used to that.”

“Don’t worry, you will. Now, breakfast?”

He put the stew on the table, steam rising as he pushed it towards me. 

“Thank you. But, uh," I paused, motioning towards his side of the table, empty. "What about you?” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll just have some regular ol 'soup.” He took out a mushroom and a . . . goldfish? 

I was about to ask what he was going to do with them before they disappeared and . . . another bowl appeared, filled with a steaming, orange liquid.

“See?”

“. . . ”

Yeah. Nope. I gave up. I shook my head and sat on the chair, ignoring the absurdity of it all. I was about to eat before realizing something. 

“Could you hand me a spoon?” 

He tilted his head. 

“Spoon?” 

“Y-yes?" I gave him a dumbfounded look. "A spoon. A utensil? They’re round and have a, uh, stick attached to them?” 

. . . God, I sounded like a third grader. What happened to my English skills?  

The past two months of doing literally nothing popped in my head. 

Yep, don't need to answer that question. 

I shook my head in shame and looked back at Andrew. He was staring at me like I had no idea what I was talking about and, honestly, with that description, maybe I didn’t. 

“Is that something you heroes put on your food?” 

 I sighed. “No, it’s—”

“Oh, right! I almost forgot to tell you kiddo.” He clicked his tongue. “In Terraria, we don't need to eat. At least, not for the sake of our physical bodies.”

He smiled. I didn’t. 

“Hah?" I choked. "You don’t need to eat?” 

He shrugged.

“Well, we do. Somewhat. Besides a few additional benefits—quite important, mind you—consumption helps recharge our minds.” He grinned, voice rising higher. “After all, like the Order of the Guide always says, the best way to recover M-Force is always a good rest and some good grub!” 

". . ."

I groaned at his advertisement-sales-pitcher voice. But, still, I couldn't understand. How? How did their bodies work without energy? Could they just survive without eating anything? Was everyone some kind of mutant plant? Humans with photosynthesis?

It’s a different world, dumbass. Don’t try to apply your logic to it.

But, still! It was so, so—agh! 

. . . You know what? For the first time, inner voice, you’re right. I don’t care anymore. Fuck science. Go Terraria. 

I shelved my scientifically-based brain and every biology lesson into the back of my mind before frowning, realizing something. 

So, that was why I couldn’t feel fatigue. Huh. Makes sense now. Well, not really. 

“Well, how do you guys eat then?" I asked, sighing as I tried my best to ignore the voice screaming about rationality in my mind. "Without, uh, spoons or forks?”

“The same as we do everything in Terraria. M-Force. Like this.”

He took the bowl of soup from earlier, surrounding it with a warm energy. It lifted up to his mouth and . . . disappeared. Completely. Even the bowl was gone.

Andrew licked his lips. 

“Mmh. Mushroom-goldfish soup is really a great way to start the day. Plenty satisfying, if you ask me.” 

My brow twitched. What in Jesus's name did I just see? No, wait, I didn’t even see anything?!

“Okay,” I started, steadying my breath. “H-how do I . . . how do I do that? Do I just absorb it into myself or something?”

I shuddered. Was this what that monster was trying to do to me earlier? Oh god. 

He paused, rubbing his chin. 

“Huh. Well. You-Ah. I don’t know.” A slight frown set into his features as he clicked his tongue. “It’s hard to describe something so . . . so basic. You know breathing, right kid?"

I rolled my eyes slightly before giving him a nod. He continued.

"Well, then, how do you tell someone how to breathe? Not deep, or quick and shallow breaths. But the act of breathing itself. It’s not really something you can explain, right? You just do it. It's like that for eating. Only, with M-Force.”

He gave me a cheeky smile.  

“. . . ”

I returned him my very best 'you are so not helpful' look. He shrugged.

“Well, I guess,” he paused, putting a hand to his temple and scrunching up his face. “You first . . . first place the soup into one of the M-Spaces near your fingers. Then, think of your hands moving the bowl to your mouth, only, it’s your M-Force moving it instead.” 

His eyes widened, mouth forming into an o-shape. 

“So, that's why you heroes call it the Hotbar!” 

I rolled my eyes. Don’t think that’s why they call it that, but okay. More importantly, what the hell was that explanation? Fingers, move into my mouth, but it’s not my fingers? What?! 

Your spoon description wasn’t very good either. 

Touché, voice. Thank you for reminding me of my incompetence. 

No problem.

. . . I groaned inwardly. Andrew looked at me with an earnest expression, waiting for me to verify his incredible teaching skills. Much of a guide he was. 

I gritted my teeth.

“Fine. I’ll try it, okay?”  

His face lifted up. 

I sighed, and then closed my eyes, calling the force from my mind. It came immediately, like a playful dog at the beckon of their owner. A tremble coursed through me. It was still so . . . weird. Having your mind become tangible. I’d kept getting this sense of dejavu every time I brought it out.

I shook my head. Concentrate, Yohan. With a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down, and, after a few seconds, I was ready.

I commanded the force according to Andrew’s instructions. 

Take the bowl. 

I couldn’t see it but I knew that the bowl was floating, approaching my hands. I gulped.

Put it in my fingers. Into the M-Space. Er, Hotbar. 

The bowl changed, transformed. And it . . . grew smaller? Suddenly, a miniature bowl materialized into a space near my left hand, snuggling right next to the copper axe. I’d almost forgotten it was there. I shuddered at the strangeness of it all.  

. . . So, the last step was to move it to my mouth, right? 

I focused my thoughts again, imagining my fingers wrapping around the bowl.

Okay, now, bring it to my mouth. 

There was no delay this time. The bowl disappeared and it overwhelmed my tastebuds.

A thick broth flowed down my throat. My tongue lavished in the rich, sweet flavor. There was a piece of meat. Mmh. It tasted a bit like chicken, only more dry and gamey. But, goddamn, it was delicious. Angel choirs began to sing and a strange power filled me. My body, my soul was being cleansed. I was powerful. Strong. 

And I couldn’t help but moan out loud.  

How could anything taste so good? And there was an entire bowl of it? Yes, please! 

I opened my eyes and looked down, ready to have another mouthful. 

The choirs stopped.

“Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“My. Soup.” I turned to Andrew, my eyes bloodshot.

He gave me an odd look. 

“Didn't you eat it?”

“B-but I only had a mouthful! Where’s the rest?!” 

He scratched his head.

“I . . . don’t know. It’s like that, usually.” 

My mouth became a gaping hole, angry and wide. It demanded more. 

“That is scientifically implausible! It was a whole bowl of soup. I-I . . .” 

I sobbed on the table. 

My soup. My soup. It was all gone. Just like that? 

I felt his touch on my shoulder, his voice soft. 

“I can always catch more bunnies.” 

My face reddened. He was right. There was always more. So why the hell was I acting like some child? Because it was the first time I’d eaten something so delicious? Because my body was craving, begging for more? Because it tasted like what I thought drugs tasted like?

. . . Or was it because it was the first time someone had cooked me a warm meal in a long time? 

I sniffled before wiping my face.

“No, I-I’m good.” I curled my hands into fists. “I don’t want to take advantage of you and your hospitality. Not anymore.” 

He frowned and waved his hand. 

“No, by all means, you're not—"

“No. I don't want you to do things for me. I want to do it myself. Please,” I said, looking at him firmly. “Can you teach me?” 

He stopped trying to argue with me and sighed. 

“Alright." He shook his head, chuckling. "I suppose I was waiting for when you would ask.” 

. . .

Andrew prepped a few things before we began. 

“Wait.” I narrowed my eyes, glaring at him. “How did you drink the tea, then?” 

“Oh. That’s . . . that’s just something I do when I’m nervous.” He scratched his head. “It’s one of the ways I maintain my M-Force.”

“So I can eat it? Not instantly?!” My voice gushed with excitement. 

“Yes, but it’s much more difficult. And it’s not how you’re supposed to eat.” He gave me a disapproving look. “Neither is it supposed to be something you’re able to do at B-Stage.” 

I cleared my throat in offense. Excuse me, but it is totally how you are supposed to eat food, damn it! 

I was unable to disguise my desires as I inquired further. 

“Then, what stage do I need to be at to do it? To eat it slowly? And, wait, how many stages are there in the first place?” 

“Hmm.” He raised his hand, counting until all the fingers on his right hand were up.

“There are five—that I know of. I’ve heard of a few more but I don’t know much about them. Only heroes—and only a few—can reach those higher stages.” He flicked my forehead. “But don’t dwell on what you can’t do kid. Focus on what you can do right now.”

“Now, how about we start? Bring out the Copper Shortsword from your Hotbar.”

I nodded. 

Again, I called the force from my mind and brought out the sword in the space next to my left pinky. 

My right hand trembled at the sudden touch of cold metal. It was going to slip again—

A familiar energy pushed up and stopped the hilt from leaving my hand.

“Slowly, now,” Andrew said, gripping my shoulders. “Breathe. Let your mind relax. And most importantly, trust yourself.” 

His gentle voice relaxed my tense muscles. I breathed out slowly, following his instructions. After the third breath, my hands stopped shaking.

“Great job. Now, command the M-Force to extend and envelop the sword. It’s difficult to do on your first try, so don’t be disappointed if—”

His words faded away into the background as I focused entirely on my M-Force and the sword. Extend, he said? How would I—an idea popped in my head. Would it work? I didn’t know, but it didn't hurt to try. 

I thought of the blanket-like shape of my mental energy and then imagined it somehow condensing and transforming into an arm. 

I shuddered. 

It worked. But it felt . . . weird. Like, really weird. How would you describe the feeling of growing an arm from your head? 

The foreign force holding up the sword disappeared. My eyes flew open.

“D-did something happen?” I asked, looking cautiously around the room before turning to Andrew. “Did I do something—”

He stood in front of me, a wide gap set in between his curled lips, his eyebrows twitching.

“W-why are you looking at me like that?”

A half-sigh, half-laugh left his mouth. It was the sound a helpless parent would make when they realized their child was a little bit too smart. 

“I . . . I have no words. You are truly something else.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“First a subsection, then this? Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” 

“No, of course not! I—”

He chuckled. 

“I’m kidding. I’m the one who activated your M-Force, so I know best that you’re still a newbie. Still, kid, I . . .  Damn. Maybe, if it’s you,” he paused, suddenly averting my eyes.

“If it’s me?” I continued, eyeing him with suspicion.

“If it’s you, then you can s-save this world!” He finished, forcing a smile. 

“You’re hiding something from me again, aren’t you? You promised—”

“No! Yes. Well, I’m . . .“ He sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. “It’s not yet time. But, I will tell you everything.” 

He walked up to me, pointing at my chest.

“And I didn’t lie." He grinned. “I genuinely believe you can save this world.”

I looked away, face flushed as I mumbled under my breath. 

“M-me? B-but, I’m not . . . I couldn’t . . . R-really?” 

He laughed, rubbing my head again. I shook him off with an annoyed grunt. 

“I’m still not . . . sure about all the hero-stuff. And though I hate when you do it—it’s okay if you don’t tell me everything.” I said, turning to him. He looked at me in surprise.

“But,” I continued, “If I do ask about something, and you can't tell me, then you have to tell me why, at the very least. Deal?”

He paused for a few seconds before agreeing with a slow nod. 

“Okay. So, uh, what do I do with the sword?” I pointed at the copper blade in my hand. 

He grinned.

“There's only one thing you can do with a sword, kiddo. Fight. How about we try some practical combat lessons? I’ll be there to look out for you, so don’t worry.” 

That was his third lie. 

I shivered unconsciously, forcing a small ‘sure’ out of my lips.

Oh, there was no way I knew what it would get me into. Or what I had already been in. 

A journey of a lifetime. It had already begun.