Dan woke to the scent of vanilla and jasmine. He breathed in deep, light strands of something tickling his nose. His left arm was immobile, struck numb, only a dull pressure registering in his mind. Something soft pressed against his side, a pleasant warmth. He opened his eyes. A ceiling met his gaze, ugly splotches white paint scattered across its surface like a thousand marching ants. Hisceiling, his bedroom. Something shifted against Dan's body, and he looked over.

Abby snored peacefully beside him, her dark hair drifting across Dan's nose as he breathed. His trapped arm lay beneath her, dead to the world. She lay half on top of him, with her own arm cast across his chest. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. Her face was peaceful, in sleep. Yet, something felt lacking in it. There was no energy there, none of the relentless cheer that he so admired. Her mouth was curled up at the corner forming a slight smile, and she burrowed into his shoulder like a cuddly cat seeking warmth.

Abby was a heavy sleeper, and it was still early. The master bedroom contained a single window, facing towards the sun. Not an ounce of light streamed in past his blinds. The sky was dark. His clock displayed 5:45 in dull red colors. Dan felt more awake than he had ever been. Not the result of a good night's rest, so much as the best he'd ever had.

The anxiety from yesterday felt like a distant dream. An insignificant annoyance, just a distraction from what really mattered. The feel of soft sheets against his skin. The warmth of the covers, warring against the cold air beyond his bed. The embrace of a beautiful woman. This was what was important. The here and now called to him. As did the restroom. Dan needed to take a leak.

Hug and roll, Dan. Hug and roll. Abby was dislodged from her place on top of him with the smallest grumbling protest. Dan laid a kiss on her brow, grinning as her lips tilted upward. She burrowed deeper into the covers, clutching the body pillow Dan had substituted for himself. He waited until she was settled, then stepped into the Gap.

Empty space greeted him. A sea of stars, distant specks of things in the distance. Above him, Dan's eldritch companion lingered. He stared up at it, absently noting a lack of pain from its presence. Its shape was ill-defined, more a cloud of shifting particles than any real creature. It was the eyes that gave it life, dozens of them, blinking in and out of existence. They twinkled like gemstones embedded in the ceiling of a vast cave.

Dan looked away. He was in no way ready to deal with this, yet. Still, progress. He didn't feel like vomiting. No fear prickled at his spine. The dull cold of the Gap spread through his limbs. Familiar. Comforting. His veil emerged from his skin, wrapping around him like a cocoon. A flex of his will pulled back to his bedroom.

"Right," Dan muttered, feeling the numbness leave his limbs. It was replaced by the brisk sting of icy air, as his home's air conditioning did its best to emulate the north pole. He rubbed his hands together, letting friction do its work. "Time to be productive."

__________________________________________________________________________

Dan loved his new yard. Large and green and alive, it had been maintained with care despite its lack of traditional flora. No flowers here, no bright colors to catch the eye. It was only lush grass, far and wide, a small meadow carved out of paradise. It was potential that Dan saw. Free space, ready to be worked.

Morning dew clung to the blades of grass, rubbing against Dan's ankles as he strolled through the yard. His bare feet grew damp, pleasantly cool in the morning air. A songbird lived up to its name in the distance, crying out from a tree beyond the fence line. Small tendrils of light crept over the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant crimson-gold. It was a storybook morning.

Dan took several laps around his yard, a slow languid walk while dressed in nothing more than a pair of gym shorts and a sleeveless shirt. It was about as cool as it got during the summer, with a light breeze tousling his hair and chilling his wet feet. The restless energy that had been gnawing at him faded with movement, his body slowly settling into its normal rhythm. He completed his fourth lap, stopping in the center of the yard. Phantom images played out in his mind's eye. A familiar dance of limbs and friends.

"I could not have done that, last week,." he announced proudly. Victory burned in his chest like a vibrant star. The smile on his face could not be contained. Dan beamed at his friends, bursting with pride.

Two massive arms wrapped around his waist, each as thick as a tree trunk. He was lifted bodily into the air, crushed in the embrace of a jovial madman. Dan's abused eardrums screamed in protest as Gregoir bellowed his approval into the stratosphere.

"What a glorious display! Such skill! Such spirit! Such dedication to martial prowess!" Arms squeezed and ribs creaked. Dan willed himself out of Gregoir's arms, landing on the discarded mattress with a groan. The giant man instantly switched targets. His gaze locked on to Abby, a resplendent smile blooming across his face.

"Dear lady," he crooned, "I had no idea you were such a talented teacher! To shape a novice into a warrior is no simple feat! The APD would greatly benefit from a woman such as yourself!"

"Stop trying to steal my trainer," Dan wheezed from his place on the mattress.

"Ah!" Gregoir shifted awkwardly. "Apologies, it was merely a force of habit. It is, of course, not my place to guide someone who has already found her path."

Abby blinked uncertainly, unsure if she'd just been complimented. "...Thanks?"

Gregoir beamed. "Indeed! And as for you, young Daniel—" He strolled forward until he loomed above Dan, reaching down to pull him to his feet. A few heavy pats conveyed the blonde viking's enthusiasm. "I am most impressed by your dedication! Physical perfection is not lightly pursued. The skill you've earned is a wonderful proof of your fighting spirit!" He leaned forward intently. "But I must caution you! Do not be content! Never be content! Contentment is the death of progress! You must always press onward! Once you've reached your goals, set new ones! Never stop moving! Magnificence is a product of labor and time!"

His words were finalized by a clap on Dan's shoulder that sent him sprawling back onto the ground. Gregoir didn't seem to notice, spinning around to face Abby once more. He engaged her in an enthusiastic conversation about dietary plans as Dan stumbled to his feet.

Connor stepped up to Dan's shoulder, steadying him with one hand. The younger man had a pensive look on his face.

"We'll need to have a rematch once I obtain my upgrade," Connor observed. His voice was light, but the hint of anticipation in his eyes gave away the game. He was young and ambitious, and eager to test himself.

Dan would be happy to oblige when the time came. "You know where to find me."

A sharp nod. "I feel like I should thank you, Newman." His eyes flicked over to Gregoir. Freya had cautiously joined the conversation, staying out of arms reach of the giant, but offering her own opinions. "This is an opportunity that I did not anticipate. I won't forget the favor."

Dan shrugged awkwardly. "What are friends for?"

The corner of Graham's lips ticked upward slightly. "Indeed. In that case, I trust you'll be amenable to arranging more get-togethers like this? And perhaps invite any more highly influential persons you might have hidden away?"

Dan rolled his eyes. "I'll see what I can do."

The memory ended. Dan stared at the empty patch of grass where his friends had once gathered. He glanced around the yard once more, as a wistful grin stole across his face.

Home. This was home. This was his.

He dropped down onto the grass, cross-legged, ignoring the slight dampness. He breathed in deep, fresh air filling his lungs. The morning sun slowly crept over the horizon. Dawn had fully arrived without him noticing. He watched the sunrise, finally feeling at peace.

It was an almost foreign sensation. What was it that Gregoir had said? Contentment is the death of progress? The blonde lunatic had probably meant it literally, but Dan would happily follow the spirit of the advice. There was always something he could to improve himself. Even here, even now, in this perfect moment. Dan hadn't gotten this far only to stop.

His veil slipped past his skin, crawling along the ground in strands. Each was thin, practically two-dimensional, a web of sapphire silk. It extended across the yard, dipping past the grass to burrow beneath the earth. Dan closed his eyes as information filled his mind. The pool of energy within him dwindled slowly away. Every foot of thread he extended out of himself drained more and more of his veil, an ever widening trench in his inner ocean. He could feel whenever his threads encountered denser materials within the dirt. The drain decreased, his power easily piercing through the solid rock.

Dirt was harder, filled with infinite minute gaps. His threads were so thin that the gaps might as well have been chasms. A thousand miniature Grand Canyons, traversed slowly, carefully, inch by hesitant inch. Still, he continued. Threads burrowed outward, past his fence line, dancing along the surface of his neighbor's yard. He could feel the trees, his veil easily flowing along the bark. He could feel the borders of their flower bed, the stone divider that staked out its plot.

With a slight tug, his power rebounded. A thin thread collided with something it could not pierce. An animal, something alive. More threads branched out, lifting ever-so-slightly off the ground. They carved out a mental map of its form. Four feet touching the earth, a tiny, furred form. It wasn't perfect, but it was progress.

Dan pushed his veil back into the earth. He went deeper, this time, exploring the foundations of his house. His power moved through concrete like a snake through grass. It burrowed ever deeper into the earth, an inaccurate radar, an impromptu survey of his home's stability. He should have done this earlier, in truth, but it simply hadn't occurred to him. He might not have even been capable of it. This was the most complicated task he'd yet attempted. Thousands of threads mapped out the base of his house, searching for instabilities.

And then, a wall. No, resistance. Open air, too vast to traverse. No dirt or stone or steel to convey his power. He pushed harder, more threads splitting off. They probed at the aberration, searching for an opening. Each hit a wall in turn. More empty space. A cavern. Dan opened his eyes.

There was something beneath his house.