Nova got up from his bed. It was 5 o'clock in the morning. He hadn't slept much, his mind racing with thoughts of his first dungeon adventure.
I know the F-rank dungeon will have real wolves, so the chances of dying are much more real, even if the pain from training yesterday felt plenty real.
He sat on the edge of the bed for a minute, staring at the floor, trying to shake off the fog. The apartment was silent, the kind of silence that was deafening.
The kittens in their box by the couch were out cold, little balls of fur rising and falling with each breath. He was somewhat jealous of them, even if his true intentions of coming to Earth didn't align with his jealousy.
They had no worries, no dungeons, just eat, sleep, and shit. He pushed himself up, knee joints popping like a bubble wrap, and headed towards the bathroom.
Brushing his teeth, he stared at his reflection. Bags under his eyes, hair messy, but he ignored that, that fire in his eyes lighting up.
