While I was slowly building a new life around me, what truly brought everything together was what happened inside me, and the primary reason I was planning on going back to the dungeon, now that I knew it was possible.

I wanted new material. Nothing here was magical. Everything resisted, and while I could still use my abilities, I found them twice as draining, and no material on earth could give me stats - it was too...dead?

So all I had was what I had already found, and those projects would be done soon. Because I was getting fast -

I hardly thought about my crafting anymore because I hardly thought about breathing. It simply was always occurring, I had a project prepared as I awoke, or if sleep was not coming, I sat in my rocking chair and worked.

It was why my Light spell was coming along so impressively - I had bought it after seeing Brandon's light because it was the cheapest spell, and I wanted to experiment with more magic, to see if I could change it like Rapid Growth. Evolve it -

I focused again on the spell -

And it felt like a bubble in my hand, impossibly light as I called for it, then I filled it with my mana. Along with the mana went my intent. With ensnare it was automatic - the intent was the aim and the mana was the bloom of growth around my enemy - but it wasn't so much a bubble as throwing a handful of sand -

And Rapid Growth?

It was the hardest - to do anything intentional that is. I had no problems making plants grow, but I struggled to make them grow to anything useful. Plants had their own intent already, I couldn't override it just by telling the plant what to do.

I had to understand its needs, had to confuse it or convince it. So when I poured my mana over a plant it was more like a conversation - Grow toward the Sun - and I provided an idea of where the Sun was -

The idea of spring to encourage blooming, it was more complicated the more specific I wanted the result. Now if I just wanted a twisted pile of branches and random bursts of growth?

That was much easier - but overall I found Ensnare to just as handy, and the framework of it existed as part of Rapid Growth, and I could still use it to my desire.

But my biggest breakthrough had come from habitually thinking about the Sun for the plants - and a piece of that thought made it into my Light spell when I was experimenting with it, and not only was the spell as bright as a spring day, but it was warm.

An absolute deal changer because what had been taking the longest for my crafting was drying the hides - taking them out in the sun, and now.

I sweated - a long rack of wood with wire hung sheets of hide and a breeze of air constantly circulated through them. In front of me on a table was a dried and malleable length of an Enemy-Friend, laid over the hips of a wood mannequin that was a copy of my shape. I hammered with a rubber mallet -

It was amazing how obvious some things are, only after you do them. The use of a mannequin was a game changer - it allowed me to hold the fabric up - pin it, shift it, get a better idea of how it would fit me.

And when you can make the mannequin move? Grow it or bend it through your entire range of motion? I did this - all of this, from -

"Cody."

"x is equal to 3y."

"Good." Mrs. Bertie nodded, "Now how did you get that answer."

Looking at Brandon's paper, whoops. But only because I already knew -

"Would you like me to do it on the board, ma'am, or just read it out to you?" I asked as I quickly scribbled through the question inside my inventory, working it out for myself.

"Reading it out would be fine..."

I did, as I looked over my first attempt at a pair of pants I thought was perfect, they fit like a glove. But your hand doesn't have a set of balls dangling in the middle of your fingers, and the range of motion?

I was learning. Learning from mistakes, from errors. I found help from books, but it was mostly just ideas because the material - it was wholly different. The goals were the same, but comparing the hide of an Enemy-Friend to a heifer was like comparing a Honda to a Hummer.

So crafting became a constant companion, a slow, methodological form of meditation that I could slip into at any moment. I could patterns and shapes, stitch them together - all while going about regular expected tasks like doing the dishes, or sitting through boring lectures, and my mind was able to follow both - if not easily, I didn't fall behind, and my grades remained impeccable.

And I continued to get better - faster.

And with the dull portions of life now my most industrious, filled with crafting, a hobby that was becoming more rewarding each day, that blew any video game or movie out of the water - I was left to fully focus and enjoy the parts of life with people.

I began to enjoy social interactions - looking forward to them as a well earned break. And there was nothing I was looking forward to then the dance. Even though it had only been one day since Hannah had said yes!

I'd never been to a dance before - not a date, and I had turned to my father - my dad, for advice. It wasn't the sort of conversation I felt was right - to have over coffee, in the early morning while he read the paper and I crafted quietly in my own chair.

Not over dinner, either. So I asked him as he pulled the lawn mower into the garage -

And there I was, suddenly under the truck with an oil pan.

I'm not sure why - he'd already changed the oil this month, but the second I approached him as he was wiping down the lawn mower, told him I'd asked a girl to the dance, he had a gallon of valvoline and a funnel as though he had his own inventory system.

"A woman is a lot like a truck, Son." My Dad told me, "There's a lot of things you have to do before you can just take it for a ride."

"Like change the oil?" I asked.

"Well, hold on - there's an order to these things. You check the oil before you buy the truck. A new truck will have plenty of oil - if it doesn't, it's a lemon. But you don't buy a truck until you have a good job or you'll be stuck with a piece of shit."

I shut up. I think that was more words than I'd ever heard my father speak at once - I realized I had found not just my Dad, but a friend. He was still incomprehensible - I saw him like the old oak in our backyard. Part of me remembered swinging on that tire swing as I now just enjoyed the shade of his presence.

"You see, the first thing you do is you walk it out. You make sure that it's the type of truck you want to be in, but also - the type of truck you want to be seen in. People notice the kind of truck you drive, no shame in walking if it's a bad fit, you'll still get there."

I unscrewed the plug with just a twist of my fingers, letting the still clear oil pour out into the pan, I nodded.

"You have to unlock it and get it started - every truck has its own key, and when you have the key - it's easy. But without it you're just gonna wake the neighbors or end up in jail."

I nodded again.

"There's nothing you can say to a truck that'll change how it drives. It's fine to talk a bit - but you'll only find out what that truck needs by listening. Feeling how it drives, you'll know when to shift or to just leave it in low."

I nodded again - unscrewing the filter and replacing it, along with the plug. I heard the funnel slide in and the slow gurgle of oil.

"Don't just stick your key in and go - you got to warm her up if you want a smooth ride, or want to get anywhere. Nothing ruins a trip like a blown gasket."

My eyes widened.

"And most importantly." My father passed me a shop rag as I slipped out from under the truck, and as I wiped my hands he opened the top drawer of his toolbox, passing me a box, "Never leave your wallet in a truck you don't own."

I looked at the small box in my hand.

Condoms. Pack of three.

What?

I opened my mouth to explain that wasn't what I meant - but when I looked into Dad's eyes, I just couldn't. He was just so damn proud as he turned around, lowering the hood with a heavy thunk, he whistled.

Three sharp notes -

"Thanks, Dad."

He just grunted, whistled again as I tucked the condoms away. Life could be simple, life could be good - and even when it wasn't perfect, a chocolate chip cookie and a smile from my mom. Ice tea in the shade of an oak, listening to it whistle in the wind - the world had no end of wonders, old and new, and I just didn't have enough room inside me for worry.

"Mr. Abbot." Two men in suits, at the table. Turning to me as I walked in the front door, they'd been waiting since after Hannah's stop - and then another ten minutes besides for me to run back.

Cups of ice tea with a wedge of lemon as they sheltered beneath my mother's best 'church friends' smile, my father leaned at them, "We're representatives of the Department of Homeland Security."

I nodded at them, puzzled. There was a black Cadillac with USG plates, but that wasn't that unusual, not with Dad's work, and the phone call had just asked me to come home, and that it wasn't an emergency.

"I'm Special Agent Edwards, and this is Special Agent Alricks, and we work with Returnees."

I met the careful smiles, Edwards looked like he was recruited from the NBA and Alricks was like his inverted shadow, but their demeanor was friendly. They wore nice blue suits and had tight hair cuts. They were sharp.

"We'd like to extend an opportunity - it is believed that you could be a critical asset of the United States, and we would like a chance to discuss your future cooperation, as well as debrief you on your journey inside the Basic Dungeon."

I blinked at them, first curious as to how they knew. Of course, my medical exam. Three days.

"What's a critical asset?" I asked, not really knowing what to say. But the way he said that...

"We're not at liberty to go into the full extent of the Department's classifications, but we can say that you have been selected as being of strategic importance as it relates to the ongoing success of a mission directly related to the defense of United States interests. We can discuss it further at a more secure facility, once you fully understand the responsibility to safeguard any intelligence we share with you."

And a part of me knew instantly what they wanted. From the conversations with Mike, he was doing the research, putting together a plan, but from what I had started to realize there was only one thing I could do that nobody else could -

"You're reading him on?" My father asked, "He's not an adult."

"Yes. If he agrees." Edwards replied, "And technically, he is."

Which caused all our eyes to widen as he pulled a book out of his briefcase and opened it - I saw a picture of me from the year book, and then -

Birth certificate, drivers license, social security card, a declaration of emancipation of a minor, bank cards - credit cards, passport.

I thumbed though the file, it was my life history. I knew my mom had a drawer somewhere we pulled out when the school needed something but this...

"What?" My mother asked in disbelief. It was sweet - confused and horrified, like somebody told her it was my birthday and she hadn't made a cake.

"It applies to all Returnees, emergency legislation not yet publicly released, but ratified in a closed session of government to facilitate some of the necessary adjustments concerning the changing global landscape."

My mother just deflated in her chair with a very disturbed expression.

My father frowned but didn't say anything. What's more, he didn't look at me.

My decision.

As the men passed over a single paper, thick and official with a golden seal on top and script that looked like it had been hand typed, signed with a name I didn't recognize, but with a lot of abbreviations following it and in the large messy hand of somebody important.

Our nation had begun to put measures into place, that took in consideration the unique abilities of Returnees. The government sought to understand the capabilities, and considerations, to interview me for any information that can be used to protect high-value targets from nefarious organizations and competing countries, as well as to interview me for other positions.

Other Positions - Dungeon Guide. They wanted access to a Yellow, but why? Why not just climb their way up? Nobody had done it yet, that we knew of, but it couldn't be that far away...

And suddenly I felt the excitement - the calling. I had been slowly wrapping myself back into my life, making improvements, even pushing myself. Exercising...

But all along I couldn't help but feeling there was more. Like I was on vacation? Relaxing, but I knew something was next. I think it's part of the reason I was so easily convinced to return to the dungeon - I was getting...restless.

I had sensed the edge of my old life, the upper limits. And where before they seemed like impossible shoes to fill, now? I was waiting to join the Marines, I was ready. I just wasn't old enough - except now I could.

"I think I want to go." I turned to my parents, and my mother gasped. My father returned my stare evenly, "I know I need to do something with my life, I always knew I was going to be a Marine, one day."

The idea had loomed over me, but it was just one more anxiety, one more worry for the future. I had always had enough to worry about from the week, but -

"I've always wanted to, to understand what it meant." I told them, "I'm not a man yet, I'm still learning, but I don't want to be just a man, I want to be more."

My father gave the smallest nod, and my mothers eyes were glassing -

"This isn't what I had imagined, but if I can help. I need to at least listen."

I watched as tears fell from my mother and my father maintained his always stoic expression.

"Then if you can come with us?" Edwards asked.

"Now?" I asked, surprised. It was almost a sneeze. I was still wrapping my mind around...it.

"Yes. It's urgent."

"Hold on." My father said, standing up - I turned to see my mother's hand clenching his shoulder, "I'll have my say."

I turned with a shocked expression on my face, I thought for sure he'd be proud - and maybe he was, but -

"This is Mr. Abbot's decision." Edwards replied, and I realized he was talking about me. I looked down at the book - at the IDs. It didn't seem real, but it was. And I looked up at him amazed that he was still sitting there after how my father had looked at him.

My father turned to me now, and I saw his expression torn, hesitant for the first time in my life, as my mother deflated in the seat next to his.

"Cody. You are a man now. You have been. Long before these spooks showed up to let you know, and you've always been treated like one. You're right to say you're still learning what it means, so am I." He nodded, paused, I'd never seen my father choose words, but I realized that's what he was doing, "This is an opportunity - I understand that, but these aren't Servicemen, these are Agents."

The men glared at my father, but kept their mouths shut. My father glared back at them.

Spooks. Somehow it made me think of some of the monsters Mike mentioned, if anything, I'd feel more comfortable, then, but -

"How long would I be gone for?" I asked them.

"As long as you would like." They told me, "No long term commitment is needed, however most people tend to not be in a hurry to leave. The compensation is considerable, as are the benefits. While we understand your dedication to your country, Mr. Abbot, and military service has its own...intangible rewards."

I barely caught the eye dart over to my father, heard the smugness of the tone.

"Your assistance to the Department is currently seen as far more valuable than what any service member can provide. Those members that have returned are promoted to the rank of Warrant Officer, or Colonel if they wish to stay in, and are in process of joining an entirely new branch."

"What?" I asked, "I can't be a Marine?"

The men looked at me, like I'd made a joke, but then -

"Mr. Abbot, if you want to be a Marine, there's nothing stopping it from happening right now. Correct, Sir."

I turned to my father, my eyes growing wide. What did that mean?

My father looked down at the hard wood table, the smoothly polished grain, and I could tell the words didn't surprise him. What did it mean!?

"To think, my Son, would have the same rank as me. After 20 years, one second after swearing in." There was fury in his voice, and this time the two Agents did recoil -, "That Congress. Could forget. What the Corp is. Just because we are -"

"Abbot!" Avery shouted.

And my father's face purpled. He stood up from his chair - "No!" And marched out of the room -

And while his shout sent me out of my seat, sent it tumbling and crashing behind me I was so confused, so heartbroken. I didn't understand what was happening, or - anything that was going on.

Mr. Avery, "I apologize, Cody. I hadn't realized your father didn't want to induct you into the Corp."

I stood there gaping, and my mother, "Cody, this isn't - that's not it, honey. Your father, I won't put words in his mouth." She was crying, "The Oath, I don't always understand, I know I can't, those words - While he lives, he will die by them!"

She said it like a prayer! To God, to Him. It was terrible how sad they made her, and how happy, how much love and understanding and how much fear -

"Semper Fidelis." I whispered them, again I knew I couldn't understand. What do they mean? And now, would I ever know?

Because he made it clear, didn't he. That he didn't want me to be a Marine? Because I'd have the same rank as him? Why was that important? Why was that...wrong?

Not to say I deserved it - but, now what? What was left -

"We do have Officers at the facility, Mr. Abbot." Avery said, when he realized my tears probably weren't going to stop as I continued to stand there blankly. I'd completely forgotten they were here.

"What?" I asked.

"You can take your oath there. Again, you will be discharged after, but you will be a Marine. Of course you know -"

"There's no such thing as an ex-Marine." I whispered, it didn't feel right, nothing felt right, my Mother crying. My father - so furious, I'd never even imagined.

But it hung right there. Not just a Marine, but a Colonel. I'd be important, like my father. I could become a General.

And I know. It isn't fair. That I would be given it. But was I? Was it fair that I had been sucked into a Dungeon? That I was now more powerful then a Special Forces operative? Perhaps more dangerous?

Would they teach me? What could I do with that training? When I had spoken, briefed my family, it was obvious how much my father, my grandfather knew. They breathed danger and confidence, they weren't cool under pressure, they were the pressure.

And I knew it - as surely as he was holding a fat diamond out to me on a pillow. I thought of everything that this was - an offer not just for a job, but to be important. I thought to what my father said earlier, about buying a truck...and I thought of our small, small town. Of a beautiful girl that would a beautiful wife.

A future of my own and a family.

And a Country to serve, one that didn't just call but knocked. I would add my glory to the Abbot name, continue -

"I love you, Mom." I whispered, hugging and kissing her head, like so many times she had kissed mine.

"Please wait, Cody." She whispered.

"He never goes back on his word." She nodded, in my hands and I felt the wet tears, heard her sniffle. Knew she understood.

And then I was riding in the back of a black Cadillac - the Agents had moved like knives, opening the door for me, they walked to my right and left.

Then there was a helicopter, for the first time in my life, it was like a flying boat all leather and shiny brass - not the clunky military pictures, but a sleek machine that ushered me to the destination. Everything was happening so quickly, I hadn't even had to pack - everything I needed was in my inventory.

I didn't have time to think -

So I didn't.

I'd been just going, going with everything.

I continued to focus internally, just letting the world swirl around me as I considered a future - a new future. I tried to understand what that meant.

We arrived somewhere. A desert - so Arizona? New Mexico? Led to what looked like a large hotel - while I had seen the desert flying in, and walls, around me everything was green and landscaped.

They assigned me a Personal Liaison, which was like a secretary - except apparently it was a Lawyer, and all our interactions had Attorney-Client privilege, which I didn't really understand except I knew he was able to keep secrets. And I was able to sign something that allowed him to take care of things for me - anything I needed. Anything I wanted.

That was the one thing that was made most clear, even before I signed, I could have anything...

I called Mom, after I settled into a Suite bigger then our house - and already in the living room ticked an old grandfather clock - one of my 'Needs.' There was a ceiling fan, too - already on above the dining table -

"Cody?"

"I'm here." I told my Mom.

"Thank goodness." She was crying again, or hadn't stopped.

"It's amazing, Mom." I told her some of what I had seen - the facilities, that they'd given me an assistant. I asked her if she needed anything.

"Just come back soon." She told me, "I'm glad you're happy, but I already miss you. I know your father does."

"Has he said anything?" I asked hesitantly, and the answer was a long silence, and I knew it anyway. My father didn't speak much anytime, I had a feeling it would be a while...

"Mom, don't worry, please. I'm going to be fine. I love you."

"I love you, too."

I did have to do paperwork, a bunch of paperwork, but it went into my inventory and I scratched through it while eating watermelon slices and Chinese food, trying a beer from my fridge. It was awful - but it was still beer, so I took the rest of them and asked for a bunch more so I could share with my friends when I got back, and guiltily popped open a root beer instead.

But I was surprisingly getting tired.

Poisoned. 0 HP was the last thought that went through my head.

When I woke up, I couldn't move.