For the first time in what felt like days, John was finally wholly comfortable. His body felt cocooned in tender warmth, as if cradled by bedsheets of silk. It reminded him of the times a decade ago when his daughter was still young enough to want to sleep with her parents.

She was but a child then, still so innocent and dependent on them. Luna was strong now, in a way that, as a parent, made John feel both proud and somewhat frightened. At the uncomfortable thought, he stretched his arms and legs out into the space around him.

Instead of feeling warm covers however, he felt a faint rippling beneath him. It was as if his body was half immersed in the waters of a sensory deprivation tank like the ones he once tried with his wife.

That wasn't right.

John's eyes shot open and were met with nothing. A continuity of darkness that stretched on endlessly above him. It was like he was staring down infinitely into an abyss that lacked the light to make out any defining features.

That definitely wasn't right.

He stood up with a start, his appendages somehow finding purchase on what appeared to be a rippling sheet of water. Gazing around himself, he found that he was somehow able to distinguish the black water beneath him from the similarly colorless black sky above him.

Their borders, however, were entirely indistinct. He could not tell where the field of water beneath him met the vast and endless darkness above.

“Luna? Tim? Anyone out there?” John tried calling out into the void, but he received no response. Even his voice was swallowed by his boundless surroundings, failing to echo back to him.

It was a totally alien feeling, unlike being on a boat out at sea or a plane above the clouds. At least there the curvature of the Earth inevitably brought the two to meet somewhere. Here, he was afforded no such considerations.

How did he get here?

He had been playing arou— testing his newfound magical powers, when suddenly Tim came back and… he experienced 'Drain'? Tim didn't say anything about this though. Not that he ever really let on enough to understand anything before John experienced it firsthand… Hand…

His hand! It didn’t hurt anymore! John quickly began peeling back the gauze that had been wrapped around his hand to keep out any infectious bacteria. When it was finally free, John was left speechless.

On his palm, ostensibly where the origin energy had been concentrated, was an array of crisscrossed scar tissue that formed a complex fractal design. It looked like nothing he had ever seen before, but also carried with it an air of mystique that made it feel archaic by design, like he was looking at something incredibly old.

It was wholly discomforting. John peeled his gaze from his hand, satisfied for now knowing that it wasn’t injured anymore. His surroundings however, were no less discomforting.

The space was completely featureless, which made his direction when he began walking an entirely random one.

Even if he wasn’t sure how he got there, he knew he would have to get out to return to his daughter. And he wasn’t going to find an exit by standing around.

And so it was that John walked. And walked, and walked, and walked. He wasn’t sure how much time he spent looking for an exit, but in the featureless space it could have been minutes or hours or days.

Around him, he mused, it was the same as it ever was. The same as it ever was, and look where his hand was!

Healed, he added to the song.

"And you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?" John never truly understood the lyrics before, but standing at the bottom of the black ocean around him with water flowing under his feet, he thought they might have been onto something.

He continued humming the catchy song from his childhood to tune out the oppressive silence.

Thus, when he finally heard something, he forced himself to stop. A faint buzzing in his ears caused his directionless advance to halt. When he turned to find where it was coming from, he found it to be sourceless. Even still, it grew in intensity until it became clear enough for him to make out words.

"... Luna...head….en the door. The door you asshole! Let me in before it—" Precipitated by a terrified scream, John's eyes shot open a second time though he never remembered closing them.

He was lying on his back in the reclined front seat of his car. Passenger side. One of the blankets was draped over him, and it was thankfully not the bloodied one.

The screaming that pulled him away from the strange dreamscape was coming from Tim, who beyond the car’s windshield was fluttering about with more frantic agility than John had ever seen.

“What?” He asked groggily.

"Dad!" Two thin arms found their way around his torso from the back seat, as his daughter’s hair tickled his face.

"Luna! Oh thank goodness you're awake." John wasn’t sure how much time he had spent in that dark space, but the thought of never seeing his daughter again was unnerving. He was glad to be back.

"That's my line! You've been out for almost twenty hours!" Luna’s voice was dripping with concern, and the thought gave John pause. Was he there for twenty hours? He honestly couldn’t tell.

"Luna, seriously, no hard feelings about that stuff earlier alright? Please, PLEASE let me inside!" Tim’s frightened voice again pierced the noise-suppressing walls of the car.

"What's the deal with him?" John asked as Luna let go of her father and sat with her legs crossed on the back seat.

When John turned to look at her, her eyes were already closed and her brow creased in consternation. Even if a smile belied her her happiness. She did not answer immediately, but rather seemed to think about how she should answer.

"Monster squirrel." Luna answered finally, as if such a thing were to be expected.

"Monster squirrel?" John asked.

“Monster squirrel.” She nodded, her eyes still closed.

“How long has that been a thing?” He figured it was only a matter of time, and they had already been a part of the multiverse for over twenty-four hours even if he had only been awake for less than four of them.

If he could shoot fire from his hands, a monster squirrel wasn’t that hard to imagine.

“An hour maybe? It’s hard to tell without a clock but it showed up just after sunrise so…” Her voice trailed off. The squirrel had been around for a while then and Tim… had been left to his own devices.

“And why isn’t anyone helping him?” John began to worry. Before she had lost consciousness, his daughter was certainly wary of Tim but she had also defended him for a while as well. Her current indifference was confusing.

In lieu of a response, she opened her eyes and glared out the window with a severe look.

“Lulu?” John felt that he could see something in her eyes, something that laid dormant for now. Was it indignation, or something else? John felt he was pretty good at reading people but the skill always seemed to be lost on members of his own family. His wife especially.

“... Nothing, do what you want. I’m staying here.” She ultimately closed her eyes and the feeling vanished.

Oh right, John thought. Rebellious phase.

Something obviously happened between the two of them while he was out. It hurt him that his daughter was refusing to rely on him for something, but he wasn’t going to breathe down her neck. A lot could have happened in twenty hours, and Tim certainly was the type to grind gears.

“Anyway, why are we here? In the car, I mean.” John changed the subject. His daughter would come to him if she wanted his help.

“We needed to sleep somewhere, and the cars are okay so long as we don’t turn them on. Mr. Charlie took all of our batteries out, so the cars can’t turn on anymore anyway. He carried you here by the way.” Luna said with a wry smile. She then added, “He’s a lot nicer than he looks.”

He would have to apologize to him later. He and John had not met or parted on the best of terms after all.

“Where is he now? And what about Sam and Melanie?” John asked. Before Luna could respond however, Tim interrupted their conversation with another plea for help.

“Luna! Come on, I think this thing is getting faster! Can’t you wake up John or something?” His voice called to them frantically. Outside, John could see that he was being chased relentlessly by a blurry animal of decidedly not-squirrel size. John was having trouble getting a good look at it though.

“They went to look for food after they got their own cultivation manuals. Charlie took them hunting. I stayed here to— to look after you.” His fatherly instincts were telling him that it wasn’t the whole story, but he was touched by her care nonetheless. He would have been fairly distressed if he woke up alone, after all.

John groaned with a stretch. Maybe it was not just between her and Tim, then. But if it was what she wanted, he would only help her if she asked for it. John knew what it was like to be a kid with helicopter parents, and would let her be independent if she wanted to be independent now.

So long as she wasn’t in danger, that is.

Otherwise, John was feeling pretty good after the long forced rest he endured. While it gave him an excuse to sleep off his exhaustion this time, the loss of consciousness from Drain was ultimately unacceptable.

Twenty hours was a long time, and he made a promise to himself to learn a way to avoid it in the future.

He was also curious as to what that dark space inside of him was. For now, Tim was the only one who possibly had answers, so John would have to ‘rescue’ him despite his daughter’s reluctance.

Not that the nimble fairy seemed to be in any real danger considering how good he was at dodging.

When the thing finally stopped chasing Tim for a moment, John realized why Luna called it a monster squirrel. What was once an adorably cute little animal was now the size of a small dog.

It was much more muscular than a squirrel had any right to be, but they were lean muscles that belied its impressive speed. It also had three inch long claws that tore into the dirt testily as it stared down its aerial opponent.

Apparently, whatever changes that the multiverse brought to the animal allowed it to become much more deadly than its normally herbivorous compatriots.

Not quite the slow moving slime that video games had habitualized him into expecting as a first enemy.

“John, I see you’re awake! Why don’t we let bygones be bygones and please for the love of every god your tiny planet has ever worshipped kill this thing!” Tim’s voice seemed to carry a great deal more hope now that he was conscious.

John sighed.

Now that he had rested properly, he felt much more aware of the state of his body. Unfortunately, his hand was not as healed as it was in that endless space and would certainly remain wrapped for now. But it could use an investigatory rebandaging soon.

Additionally, the energies that he previously only had a vague awareness of were slightly more clear to him. Hopefully, that meant he could use them a little easier. That thought gave him a bit more confidence in a fight.

Not that he had much to begin with. Killing things wasn’t really his thing, but he did have some experience he supposed. He’d been fishing before after all, and he prided himself as somewhat of a chef as well.

With magic, the deed wouldn’t even have to be done by his own hands! Not literally at least.

And if the old hunter wasn’t around to do anything about it, it came down to himself. He wasn’t about to ask his daughter to do the job anyhow.

“Luna, stay in the car until this is over. We can talk later.” John said as he hoisted himself up with the door handle.

“‘Kay.” Her short response revealed her begrudging acceptance, and John wondered when it was that she had grown up so much. But those thoughts would have to wait.

He stepped out of the vehicle after making sure his daughter was going to remain inside. She seemed content to meditate or whatever it was she was doing. John mused that if he had to meditate, he would be well and truly screwed. With how overactive his mind felt most of the time, meditation had never really been his thing.

“John! Oh, thank the Progenitors. This little rodent is fast and has sharp claws, but—” Tim’s voice was cut off by a scream when the squirrel took his distraction as an opening. It scurried up itself up a nearby tree, rebounding off its trunk to launch itself at Tim.

“It shouldn’t have good defenses! Just hit it with something!” Tim managed to eek out his advice between dodging the squirrel’s aerial assault, jumping between outstretched tree branches at its floating target.

John wasn’t particularly confident in his chances at close range with a violent animal, but he just had to make sure it never got close enough to hurt him.

He began rousing the energy within him, now a much easier process even if the power seemed to flow with unbidden strength. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure how much energy he would need to do anything that would hurt the enhanced creature.

His previous attempts at subtlety certainly wouldn’t do enough damage, but if he allowed his power to flow unbidden, would he experience another Drain? It was unlikely since he managed three such bursts last time, and something told him he was in moderately better shape after his experience.

Maybe he could manage just over three?

It would have to be enough as John was out of time. The squirrel had hit the ground ungracefully after missing Tim’s airborne figure and rolled to a stop in the middle of the dirt lot. As it shook its head, the squirrel’s fur suddenly bristled as it seemed to sense John’s roused energies.

It was now or never.

Remembering the feeling of his final lash of pure flame without his stick as a focus, John tried to conjure a flame above his hand. He let go of the reigns that wanted to control his flow of energy and allowed it to rush outwards above his palm. As it did, his focused will attempted to congeal the energy into a condensed ball of fire.

To his grateful surprise, it worked. An orb of fluctuating reds and oranges and yellows hovered just above his hand, threatening to steal his concentration with its enchanting luster. The bead of roiling fire seemed to be covered with a faint grey sheen that held the contained force at bay.

Massive amounts of energy continued to flow from his hand and into the trembling ball of fire. Soon after its formation, John both felt and saw the container crack, a white fracture that threatened to split the orb in half. If he didn’t release the pent up energies soon, it would likely explode in his face.

The squirrel didn’t give him any more time to prepare either, and dashed towards him with an otherworldly speed and conviction the herbivores he knew of would never have accomplished. John decided to let his poor control work for him this time, and pointed his palm at the rapidly approaching animal.

He let go of the squirrel-facing side of the container.

The condensed energy blasted out from his palm in a geyser of semi-solid flame as heat washed over him even from the other side of the attack. He wanted to close his eyes in the face of the searing dryness, but forced them to stay open long enough to watch his attack land.

Or miss, as it were.

The squirrel performed an incredible zig zag maneuver that avoided the worst of the flames before it made a final leap at his throat. John rose his forearms defensively as the tackle brought both of them to the ground with the squirrel on top of him.

Then John didn’t have time to think anymore. He desperately tried to keep the squirrel’s attacks away from his vitals as it rabidly tore by tooth and claw through his defenses.

Defenses which consisted of curling up into a ball and guarding his vitals while waving his arms violently. He wasn’t any sort of fighting specialist after all, and total panic soon overtook him as he realized there was no way he could concentrate on magic at the moment.

In the midst of his fear-ridden anxiety, he felt more strongly than ever a desperate desire to push the animal away from him.

Guided by his untrained will, the energy burst forth from his body and impacted the squirrel with a sickening crunch. Just as quickly as it had become a squirrel laden chaos, John’s world was all at once peaceful again.

Except for the stinging pain of the squirrel’s attacks that had torn his jacket sleeves to ribbons, the fight was over. He got up hastily to inspect his surroundings only to be hit by a rush of vertigo.

It felt like Drain lite, and he could only hope it was temporary. What happened to his third use?

Before him in a twitching heap, the squirrel-monster lay with mangled limbs pointed in odd directions and blood oozing from its mouth. It seemed to be alive still, but was unable to do much more than wriggle on the ground.

John watched it warily for a few more seconds before gulping.

It was one thing to plan to kill the animal and another to go through with it. John tried to convince himself that it was more of a mercy killing at this point, but it didn’t help much. He was still slightly dizzy as he approached the animal, but the feeling was thankfully fading.

He didn’t want to miss.

John lifted his foot up high, and then brought it down of the squirrel’s head with a sickening crunch. A jolt of rigidity passed through its body before the entire thing went limp. Dead.

A different kind of dizziness assailed him as his stomach threatened to spill his woefully empty guts. He wished again that his enemy was a slime, if not for ease of battle then at least for its questionably fleshy body.

Killing something of flesh and blood like himself was much different from the swift end he had hoped for.

“Oh, I see! A force blast! Psionics are very effective against flimsy creatures, John. Good choice.” Tim called out to him in praise, unbidden and entirely too jovial for how he was feeling. John removed his foot from the monster squirrel’s body and stepped away on wobbly legs.

“A what now?” He asked between adrenaline fueled pants for breath and attempts to swallow away his nausea. “I just wanted to push the thing away, not… that.” He gestured to the still form beside him.

“Indeed, a strong and clear intent based on something you needed to survive a life-or-death struggle. How interesting! Hold onto how it felt in that moment. If you need to, replicate the circumstances until you can.”

“Do that again? Are you crazy? That thing almost killed me!” John was incredulous.

“And you have grown stronger because of that, no? That last attack was your best showing yet.”

“Do you want me to die?” John accused.

“I want,” Tim stressed, “to do my job. If I’m really stuck with you until Progenitor knows when, you need to get stronger. Much, much stronger. If not for you then do it for your daughter.”

That shut him up. Tim continued in his silence.

“The multiverse isn’t a nice place. You think that was dangerous? That was a squirrel, John. On day two of your planet’s reintegration! That,” Tim verbally gestured to the dead animal beside them, “was nothing.”

He took a deep breath. The adrenaline from his life or death match with the overgrown rodent was waning, and with its absence a calm clarity took root. For his daughter, he reminded himself. For Luna.

“Fine.” John relented after a few moments. If Tim was finally going to be forthcoming in his help, it would be stupid for him to refuse. “What do I need to do?”

“Your blustering attempts at control have been limiting you. How have you been thinking of using your powers?” Tim’s question was something John had answered inside himself early on.

“Like a weird all encompassing third arm?” An extra limb, both internal and external. That’s what it felt like. One that was far too muscular for John’s pitiful experience, but a part of him nonetheless.

Tim was silent for a moment before he muttered under his breath, “Huh. That’s surprisingly not bad.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s go with that.” Tim said, ignoring him. “If it really was like a third arm, you’ve been trying to use it all wrong. Think about it. Do you need to command every contraction of your muscles to, say, lift your normal arm and grab something? No, you just do it. When that squirrel was on top of you, what did you do?”

“I… I don’t know.” John admitted, for he truly didn’t. Just like with the lash of flame after his last stick experiment, he had nothing in his mind but what he wanted to happen. And then it did. Unfortunately, as he was now, he knew it was impossible for him to just will magic into being.

“Of course you don’t. That’s why we need you to do it again.” Tim stated.

John sighed. He was right, of course. It was only a matter of time before it wasn’t John’s decision to make anyway. It would be best if he was properly prepared for that inevitability than floundering around like he did just now when their next enemy was at their doorstep.

And that enemy might not be built for speed like the overgrown squirrel before him. Or it might shoot fire out of its eyes like he could shoot from his hand.

Honestly, John had no idea.

Tim had said before that early reintegration life would go through changes rapidly as they found new ways to enhance themselves with divine energy. Humans might manage magical or otherwise fantastical feats, but less intelligent creatures would go for things like big muscles and fast bodies.

Animals were simple, but their instincts were very strong. At least, John had no faith in his ability to alter his physiological structure in any meaningful way with divine energy like the squirrel had.

Even if there was evidence for its potential splattered on the ground not too far from where he stood. Without something handy like a cultivation manual designed for his body, he would certainly not make any potentially permanent alterations.

So, while his dubiously fortuitous encounter with concentrated origin energy may have been helping him with magic, it was probably turning him into a glass cannon. He certainly needed practice.

“Not now, at least. I feel like I’m about to experience Drain again, and I don’t want to lose another day to that dark space.” At the thought of it, John shivered. Even if he knew now that escape was possible, the time he spent in there was wholly unpleasant.

“Dark space? Do you mean you saw your Astral Form while Drained? You know, a big glowy representation of your ideal self. Veins of light running through it?” Tim’s voice was suddenly very excited, and he began doing that thing where he fluttered around someone’s head who suddenly said something he liked.

“No, nothing like that.” John waved away the fairy that he ruefully admitted could be a little cute sometimes. John continued, “It was empty. There was nothing there but some dark liquid beneath my feet and a dark sky that I couldn’t see the end of.”

“I see…” The fairy’s excitement had visibly boiled down after his explanation, but Tim only became more thoughtful as silence was left between them.

“Does that mean something?” John finally asked.

“Well, I couldn’t say for sure but maybe...” Tim closed in on John’s face as if inspecting him before continuing, “Maybe you were given a clean slate?”

John had a hard time imagining that place as anything but blank, so he felt as if Tim’s words had some truth to them. Perhaps his form really had been wiped clean by the origin energy.

Whatever that meant.