Chapter 6 - Head Pain

"Yeah... but that sounds kinda bad, don't you think?"

"No...?"

"I mean, the oil-finding part. That would mean society still has to exist. And all these crappy governments."

He didn't respond, so she continued. "You didn't say anything."

"I thought you were going to explain what you meant."

"I hate society as it is now. I don't want things to go back to semi-normal. I don't want laws controlling my freedom. I don't want to be ruled by old men and suffer for their decisions.

"I want something different. What about you? I mean, you're in this dungeon for a reason, right? Do you really want to go back to your crappy job when being a monster killer doesn't pay well enough?"

"No."

She smiled. "So I'm not the only one!"

"Yeah... even my best friend wants things to go back to normal. I get why, but..."

"You hate it? If you say that, you'll definitely sound like a weirdo," she laughed.

"Yeah, I definitely would."

"You should've seen my sister's face when I told her I didn't want things to go back to normal. I mean, she had chronic pain every day. But every time she leveled up, the pain lessened. Despite that, she still wants things back to normal. It pissed me off so much."

Of course. Leveling up strengthens the body. "I guess she cares more about others than herself."

Her smile faded. "Yeah..."

Andrew swung his ax back and forth. "What's your name, by the way?"

She tilted her head. "Marla. Nice to meet you, Andrew."

Andrew blinked, confused. When did I tell her my name—

"You didn't," she said.

Oh. She can read—

"Minds."

"Can you only read what I'm thinking, or can you go deeper?"

"That's a secret."

"That's... fair."

They made their way out of the dim, damp dungeon, the faint glow of the exit casting their figures in long shadows. The air outside was cool, a sharp contrast to the stifling humidity inside. Nearby, a small group of policemen stood near the entrance of another dungeon, their uniforms crisp but their postures relaxed. A few kids were being scolded, their voices low but filled with nervous energy. One officer waved them away, looking more annoyed than angry.

Marla adjusted her gear, her movements casual as if she hadn't just fought through a dungeon. She glanced over her shoulder with a small smile. "See you," she said, her tone light but carrying a sense of finality. Without waiting for a reply, she walked off, her boots crunching softly against the gravel.

Andrew lingered for a moment, watching her disappear into the distance. A faint breeze stirred the leaves nearby, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth and grass. He eventually turned and began his walk home, a rare sense of satisfaction settling over him. For the first time in weeks, he felt... good. Really good.

Back at home, the soft creak of the front door announced his arrival. The dim living room lights cast long, soft shadows on the walls. Andrew barely noticed the figure on the couch until Dalton's voice broke the silence.

"Dungeon hunting, huh?" Dalton's tone was casual, but the sharp edge of disapproval was unmistakable.

Andrew froze, momentarily startled. He hadn't realized anyone else was home. Dalton sat on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, his arms resting on the backrest as he stared at Andrew with curiosity and concern.

Andrew hesitated, his mind racing for an excuse, but it was too obvious to lie. "It's relaxing," he said finally, setting his gear down near the door. "You should try it."

Dalton frowned, leaning forward. "Don't give me that crap. Are you out of your damn mind?"

Andrew tilted his head, genuinely puzzled. "Since when did I have a caretaker? Since when did I start dating a dude? Look, I appreciate the concern, but there's a fine line between caring and acting like I answer to you."

"You don't have to," Dalton shot back, his voice rising slightly. "But you went into a dungeon. Those things are dangerous."

"We've both been in them," Andrew countered, his tone steady. "They're the opposite of dangerous."

Dalton folded his arms tightly across his chest, his expression skeptical. "What are you gonna do now? Keep running back into dungeons, gambling until you find one that makes you go, 'Oh, I should've listened to my friend'?"

Andrew sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I only went in to see how my power works."

"Why do you even care about that?" Dalton asked, leaning back against the couch. "I haven't touched mine, and I don't plan to."

"Yeah, you don't. And that's the thing you need to understand," Andrew said, his voice softening. "We're completely different people. I want good things for you, and you want the same for me. But the things that make you happy make me miserable, and vice versa. I can't deal with this life. The boredom, the monotony—it drains me. Makes me feel robotic. For the first time in a long time, I feel free. I feel happy."

Dalton raised an eyebrow. "That's just for now. Like a drug. It'll wear off."

"Maybe," Andrew admitted, shrugging. "But I want to enjoy it as much as I can before it does." He pulled his phone from his pocket and plugged it into the charger, the faint hum of electricity filling the silence.

Dalton exhaled slowly, his frustration fading into something more subdued. "Fine. You're right. But how am I even supposed to react to this? I always thought we were the same. You never told me you hated what we did."

"Yeah... because I wanted to fit in with everyone. I wanted to be Normal."

Dalton rubbed the back of his neck, his expression softening. "Dude... Jeez. Let's make a deal. I'll go into one of those dungeons with you. At least one. If I've forced you through so much crap, I guess it's only fair."

"You're joking," Andrew said, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief.

"I'm serious. I've been selfish. I don't want to be that guy."

"Cool," Andrew said with a faint smile. "Just give me a while—I'm burned out."

"Yeah, for sure," Dalton said, standing and stretching. "I'm gonna grab some water."

"Cool."

Andrew sank into the nearest chair. He removed his helmet and tossed it onto the floor beside him, closing his eyes as he let out a slow breath. His muscles ached, and the back of his head throbbed with a dull pain.

After a moment, he noticed a dampness spreading down the back of his neck. His brows furrowed in confusion. Water? He thought. From the water bat?

But when he reached up to touch the damp spot, his fingers came away slick with crimson. It wasn't water. It was blood. A lot of blood.

He looked down at his hand, his heartbeat quickening. A simple water bat explosion had done so much damage.