Sol walked slowly over to the edge of the smooth crater. He looked down into the sheer, polished bowl of earth. There was no rubble. No debris. It was a perfect testament to absolute, overwhelming power.
He remembered the feeling of helplessness when the spider had looked at him. The suffocating weight of knowing his Layer 2 foundation was completely, hilariously inadequate. He remembered the feeling of his own 'Free Use' power… the cheat that he thought made him special… cowering in fear inside his core.
He hated that feeling. He despised it with every single fiber of his being.
Sol planted the butt of his bone-spear into the mud. He leaned his weight on it, letting his head drop. He took a long, deep breath of the foul, rotting jungle air.
He had spent the last few weeks surviving. He had spent the last three days resting. He had spent the last few hours celebrating his victory in a bed.
But Elyndra was right. He was crawling. He was getting comfortable in the dirt.
