Brett’s little sister had always been a brainiac. An adorable one, but the best he ever really could do was half listen to her chatter. Still, he picked up bits and pieces of knowledge from her over the years. For a while, she loved Greek mythology. The field he walked through reminded him of one of those myths. Some realm of Hades. A field of endless grass and nothing more. The place where the average went. The name escaped him, trying to think of it. 

Brett half feared that he was nothing more than a ghost walking in the underworld. That would explain the glow. The only thing that convinced him otherwise was the stars overhead. He knew what stars looked like. Or were supposed to look like. What lay in the heavens above him, wasn't it.

The swath of stars the galaxy cut across the sky was one thing. But here, it was different; there were two galaxies. They intersected in a slightly squashed X of blue and white splotches where the two galaxies mixed. This was very wrong.

As Brett walked through the lush grass, there was nothing. No movement beyond the wind or any signs of life. He started to get lost in his thoughts as he walked, despite trying to stay alert in the unfamiliar area. Because of that, the noise alone didn't bring him out of the recesses of his mind, but the rumbling did. The ground vibrated slightly, causing a slight stumble of his next mindless step. Only then did Brett register the noise. 

It was one that he was familiar with. It sounded like a bull charging at him. He had spent enough time near rodeos that there was no way he could misplace it. Looking around for the danger, Brett threw himself backward just in time to scramble out of the way of a charging boar. But this wasn't like any of the invasive wild boars he had seen, the kind that people in the county had running through their land, causing so many problems.

No, mistaking this for a bull wasn't that far off. In fact, some bulls were smaller than the side of pork that charged angrily past him. Hovering over the head of the beast was a small icon reading Lvl 7. How is this thing only level seven? It's fucking enormous!

Rolling back to his feet, Brett backed away and drew his pistol. Honestly, he had little confidence in the 44's ability to stop the boar. It was huge, and if the bone plate thickness scaled with its size, it would be as hard to kill as a grizzly.

The boar turned to face him and pawed the ground with its cloven hoof. Aw fuck. Brett thought with dismay. With the boar this close, he might not have time to jump out of the way again. Praying that some magic hadn't cocked up his gun, Brett aimed for the beast's eye. It was beady, but the sheer size of the creature meant the black orb was the size of an eight ball.

Squeezing the trigger, Brett's first shot hit the right eye dead on. The small red mist that sprayed out of the impact was impressive, and he didn't know if he would be able to repeat such a feat if he needed to. Brett started to lower the gun at the squeal before he realized that the boar was still pawing the ground as if it hadn't just lost an eye.

Swearing, Brett brought his gun back up and fired at the other eye in one motion. As he expected, he wasn't able to repeat the act. Impacting a few inches above the boar's eye, it seemed to have no effect. The boar started charging. This is so much harder now. Sighting on the moving target, Brett let out one more shot, diving to the left before he saw if it hit.

The boar tossed its head, trying to gore him with its tusks, but it was thrashing blindly and had guessed wrong. As the boar finished its charge, Brett got to his feet and started to back away. The boar spun around, but one look at it made it the boar was blind as it turned past him by several degrees. Brett moved to what he felt was a safe distance and watched the boar spin around, searching for him.

After a little while of this, the large beast was on its side, panting for breath. Moving on tiptoe, Tony got within arm's length of the head. Positioning himself right under the jaw, Brett put a bullet through the swine's chin up into its brain. It twitched once, then lay still.

Brett waited for something to happen, but after a few minutes of nothing, he just continued walking.

***

Looking around, he finally found something new to latch onto in the surroundings. He had yet to reach the edge of the clearing, but a little log cabin came into view in the distance. It was much further away than his light could reach, but the glow of a flame dancing in the window made it visible.

Having nothing else to do, Brett worked his way toward the house. As he walked through the field of grass, he couldn't help but consider that this might be a dream. How could any of these things be real? Clearly, they weren't. Except they felt real. The memories of him sitting in a chair ready to commit a double homicide didn't leave him. This is the kind of dream that you have, and you wake up, and you find your loved one beside you, and you realize that you didn't fuck up and didn't actually get them killed, Brett thought.

Except he wasn't waking up. At least the little house was getting closer to him as he walked. Before he knew it, he was standing next to it.

Walking around the corner, he found the front porch. A simple rope swing hung on one side, and a rocking chair stood watch on the other. Neither were occupied. There was a window behind the rocking chair, though it was more of a hole in the wall since it lacked any glass. Still, he could see a faint light coming from further inside the cabin.

The front steps looked well-swept, so he knocked his boots together to shake off any dirt. There was nothing to knock off. This grass actually cleaned his boots. What was a novel concept, he thought.  His heavy boots clunked up the steps as he walked up. When he knocked, he heard what was clearly an old lady call out in answer. "I'm coming!"

He waited patiently, just studying the porch around him. It felt like a porch he'd seen a thousand times in his community and waited on them just like he was doing now. Resisting the urge to tap his foot, he studied the sturdy door, counting the knots in the grain. He didn't have to wait long as the house wasn't very large. The door creaked open as a little old lady peeked out. 

"Oh my, a glowing one!" She said with a smile that was about level with his belt buckle. Above her head briefly floated a window that said Lvl. 94. The lady didn't appear surprised to see him glowing, but that was probably because of the beautiful butterfly wings behind her. Okay, this was too much. Brett thought as his mind froze in shock, staring at the wings. He could deal with comfortable grass and endless fields with colliding galaxies in the heavens above him. Even the levels might be okay, but he was unsure why his mind decided to draw the line at grandmothers with wings, and all he could do was stare. The orange and black patterns of a monarch butterfly stared back at him, fluttering slightly.

"Oh, don't mind the wings, honey; they're not goin to bite ya,'' the lady assured Brett. "Would you come in so I can get ya a glass of sweet tea?"

"Yes, ma'am." His brain responded on autopilot as he removed his tan hat and stepped inside.