The sound of something shattering, immediately followed by the rush of wind that accompanied him as he fell from the sky. The wound in the space in front of him quickly fixed itself, with the impression of the voice of a being that he made a deal with from beyond still lingering in his mind. The ground under him was visibly growing. There was nothing he could do to save himself, not now, not then. He just died not an hour ago and here he was, about to die again. 

Splat

A world of pain, and then darkness. 

The next time Andrew opened his eyes, it was already nighttime. The crackles of campfire reminded him of the past, the days where he would camp out for weeks, playing his harmonica by the fire and gazing at the stars at night. The tent always felt more homey than his own home for some reason, though the stars back at home didn't move around just as much as they did here. 

Then it came to him. Right, he should have died from that fall! 

He rose with a jolt and met with a throbbing pain to his stomach. A groan escaped his lips. 

"Whoa there pal, easy. Your body is still getting used to your core. I wouldn't agitate it too much if I were you." A raspy voice came from across the campfire. "How many fingers do you see?"

The person then opened all of his fingers to Andrew, to which he promptly counted. "Eight."

...wait, eight? 

Andrew took a better look at the person he talked to and began to doubt if it was appropriate to call the person a person at all. With stout, rectangle nose, forwarded mouth, and beady eyes, it more resembled a giant, speaking rodent. It wore little clothing and was covered in glossy fur from head to toe, if it had toes at all. Andrew glanced down and yes, it did have toes, peeking out of some kind of sandals. 

"Good, you speak the common tongue. Name is Ghetto, and I guess congratulations are in order." The thing, Ghetto, spoke to Andrew pretty casually, but Andrew could only stare at the creature in disbelief. "What, never seen a beaver before?"

"Not one that speaks. Not on Earth, at least." Andrew couldn't say for sure after his previous encounter with the being from beyond. The being was many things at once, a beaver included. "Where am I?"

"We are on the 27th floor. You made it this far on your first breakthrough, congratulations." Surprisingly, the answer came from behind him in the shape of a serpent twice his tall at half of its body that emerged from the shadow of the grasses. Its scales were dark as night with silvery gleam like the moonlight. Its voice slurred and, oddly enough, sounded feminine. "Oh, boo. Look at your face. I'm not going to eat you, silly."

Despite being told that, Andrew still could see the snake swallowing him whole. It was such a huge snake. 

Andrew bottled his fears with an audible gulp. Right, if it wanted to eat Andrew, it could have eaten him while he was asleep. There really wasn't a reason to wait until now, except maybe if the sapient beast had a perverse taste of torturing its prey, but such a thought should be put in the same bottle for now. 

"Right... Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude." Andrew looked down, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Remember, basic courtesy brings you to places! "My name is Andrew Lu. Nice to meet you." He offered his right hand to the snake to shake it, and it took him only a second to fully process that sentence in his mind. Basic courtesy might indeed bring him to places, just  maybe not good places. 

The snake didn't seem to be that bothered by Andrew's blatant racism, or speciesism, or whatever ism term that might trigger the ire of a 15 meter python for the lack of limbs, but instead it cooly coiled its body around to bring the end of its tail to meet Andrew's awkwardly hanging right hand. 

"I am Nyx," the serpent spoke with dignity and a bit of playfulness, "an iteration of she who governs the night and mystery, Goddess Nyx. Pleased to meet with you, little boo."