Wind whipped past Reid and made the skin on his cheeks flap. His free-fall had already taken him past Pippin - and despite Reid's attempt to get a blow in on his way down, the beast lord was uninjured.

The valley below had turned from a green line into a properly identifiable feature. Pippin was above him, slowly descending. There was nothing to grab onto.

Maybe - he could aim for a body of water?

Reid swore. The stream was too shallow, and actually getting himself to the next closest thing that looked deeper wasn't going to happen.

There were people that knew how to glide in the right ways. Skydivers and people with squirrel suits or wingsuits or whatever the hell they were.

But Reid wasn't one of those people.

Instead, he just plummeted - like a rock.

Reid forced himself to calm down enough to do something. He moved his hands and energy, and made a thin bone webbing appear between his legs - like a flight suit.

The issue with his work quickly became apparent.

Reid's leg webbing caught air, but nothing else did. Reid tried to keep a grasp on which way was down as he rolled forwards over and over. His stomach had started to turn by the time he decided to just tear the webbing off his armor and figure out another plan.

As his tumble stopped, Reid could clearly make out the stream in the center of the valley.

FUCK.

Reid had been in many tough spots since the awakening, but hurtling towards the ground without a good idea to save yourself had a... uniquely immediate quality to it that was different from the rest.

Thankfully, Reid had Nyx.

"REID! HANGLIDER! Make it hollow bone. Start with the handlebar, then frame, then kite."

He snapped to action, and fell back on old habits.

Bone grew laterally out of his wrists until there was a bar running between them. The bar grew further out on each side, then curved skyward before coming back and mirroring the same crossbar above him. A structure of supports grew until they hit the outer frame, and formed a fat triangle above Reid. He strained and pulled power from Battery Band to speed up the crafting process, while he pushed power-enhanced energy in from within himself. Thin sheets of bone stretched from the center of the triangle, out to each corner.

Inferior Glider [Basic] Created!

Somewhere, he'd closed his eyes to concentrate. When Reid opened them again, he could clearly see the valley, and the gourds, and the stream - and Lysander. The calico-colored guinea pig was grunting and screeching skyward as Reid continued to fall. His glider caught air, and it did slow his descent, but something about how he'd constructed it left him slowly drifting around in circles. As Reid lazily corkscrewed closer to the ground, he realized he still wasn't going to have a smooth landing.

He tried pulling the glider down on the right side to stop his rotation, but that only made the thing's frame groan under the stress. Bone started to crack - and Reid stopped trying to force it straight.

Spinning in circles was definitely better than breaking his glider and freefalling again.

The glider took him down to the valley - and Lysander's burning eyes followed him.

That was when Reid realized he had one more choice to make.

The glider was going to crash - and he had to chose whether to crash with it, or take his chances on something else.

Reid stopped waffling on the decision when a gourd came into view ahead and below him, like a lighthouse in a storm.

That could work.

A gourd had to be softer than the ground - and he knew from watching the troop that the insides were softer than the outsides. This one was a bit differently colored than the ones they ate, but it was the best terrible idea Reid had in mind.

He snapped his still-attached wrists off the glider, and let go. Reid was falling again for almost a full second before he slammed into the bumpy outer shell of the gourd. It twisted his left arm and Reid hyperextended his elbow as the shell gave way - and plunged Reid into a foul mess.

Pumpkin carving was always Susan's favorite part of Halloween tradition. It was also wonderfully inexpensive, since she had a generous friend that owned a farm. Sara loved it, too - and took great joy in being the person to scoop out all the pumpkin guts. The internals always reminded Reid of the clumps of hair he had to snake out of the shower drain every few months. The only difference was the color, and the seeds.

Standing inside his landing zone, grateful to be alive and mostly unharmed after freefalling from the top of the tutorial space, Reid decided he'd given pumpkin guts too much credit. Clumps of hair were better than this.

Wet, stinking tendrils clung to Reid, and he had to tear them from the inner walls of the gourd just to move. They wrapped themselves around him and managed to find every gap and joint in his armor. They snapped and hit him in the back of the head, or the face. They slid half out of his grip every time he tried to hold them in his hands.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Reid retched, and took another step towards the wall. Then another. His feet dutifully carried him forward as he emptied his stomach contents. By the time he was free of the abyssal fruit, Reid was dry heaving. He fell to a knee as he pulled off every strand and piece of the plant guts he could reach, while his stomach continued to try to vacate itself.

He panted at the ground for a few moments, then stood and headed for the stream. If he didn't wash this shit out now, it was going to make him stink for... well, for too long.

A purple glow high in the sky showed him where Pippin was still making a slow descent - that bastard. The mangled pieces of his glider adorned a middle hill like modern art. Reid shuddered at the idea of what could've happened.

"Nyx - thanks for the glider idea. It was great - even if my choice for a landing wasn't."

"Anytime Reid - but I have to say I'm a bit amused with your disdain for the gourd innards. I mean, in your memories I've seen you tear a man's femur out of his leg and then you stabbed him with it. You headbutted a guy and covered yourself in his brain matter. You practically live elbow deep in gore, but this plant is what turns your stomach?"

Reid tried to ignore the bits of gourd that had made it into his bone boots as he walked.

"Well, yeah. Gourd guts are just... gross."

#

Reid had barely started to wash himself off when the screech drew his attention.

The calico-colored beast lord had come to find him, and now stood - alone - a few hundred feet away. Reid muttered out a few curses before he rose, took Requiem into his hand, and walked forward.

Reid was not a happy man. These goddamn rodents had chewed on his stuff. They'd torn apart his bed, and damaged his one good pot, and shattered any possibility of salvaging his chair - and they'd tried to kill him. He owed Pippin an absolute mauling - and Lysander, standing in front of him, had been the one to break his mace.

He wanted the fight - even more than he wanted to wash off the plant guts still suck to him.

His slow approach was brought to a halt as Lysander flared with magic and brought Reid to a knee. The pressure was intense, and different. Weight was a straightforward thing. He had fought beasts heavier than him - had lifted and moved and carried things that were simply heavy. Having his entire body under increased pressure was more encompassing - but also familiar. He tried to place it, and his mind wandered back to thoughts of heavy blankets. Staying under, comfortable, until the whole thing felt more dense and harder to shrug off. The magic wasn't supposed to feel comfortable, Reid knew. But it was the first time in a long time that he'd felt... snug.

He let himself have the moment, then used Requiem as a brace to keep himself in his crouch.

Lysander ran towards him, then did something Reid hadn't seen too much of in the smaller beasts. Instead of using its teeth to attack, it used its momentum to roll sideways. More light flared as it closed in, and the true purpose behind the attack revealed itself. The thing planned to pin him to the ground with one set of intense gravity, and then used its magic on itself to become the most annoying, furry asphalt roller Reid had ever seen.

He smiled at the traincar-sized mass of fur that threatened to crush him, and tilted Requiem towards the beast. Lysander had broken one mace - it wasn't going to break another. His beautiful, flanged creation hadn't physically changed much after his latest recall. Hugo's name had appeared on the grip, and the base of each flange was a bit thicker. The real difference was in the quality of the weapon, now brought even with Reid's new gains.

The tips of each flange effortlessly sliced through the creature's fur, hide, and a good portion of its muscle. Reid felt the momentum of the beast nearly halt as it tried to stop itself and get away from what had injured it. Reid fought the crushing magic, power coursing into his legs and his arms as he lifted himself off the ground and then dragged his mace sideways. The puncture became a properly grisly - and potentially fatal - wound. Purple glows disappeared as Lysander screamed in pain. Clumps of flesh that were probably organs spilled out amidst a small river of blood.

Reid stepped to the side and gouged the creature again with a lateral swing. He followed that up with an overhead blow to the same area, and was rewarded when the cross-cut tore itself open. The sheer weight of the creature's internals was making each of the rends in its hide worse. Movement exacerbated the injuries, and Reid was still piling on more as the thing finally got its feet back under itself. He put one more blow into the creature, dragging Requiem through its flesh until his momentum halted - then Reid pushed power into his forearms and wrists, and twisted.

Reid knew that action wasn't going to kill the thing, but it felt good. Like a little bit of justice for what it had done to his mace. Payback, with the same weapon - or, mostly the same weapon.

His violent revelry halted when a familiar magic lifted Reid off the ground. Lysander rose with him - but drifted out of his reach. Reid glared at the ground, where Pippin was glowing with magic to ruin his fight. Lysander grunted in pain as the shift in gravity affected its wounds, but didn't try to lower itself.

Reid started to figure out the plan. It was the same plan - mostly. Raise him up, then slam him into the ground. This time, though, they'd be doing it with intensifying magic, the same way Lysander had broken his mace. Pippin didn't move itself off the ground.

Reid swung at Lysander ineffectively, his mace not long enough to reach the creature.

Reid had survived one regular fall - and felt he had a decent chance of making it through another. Even if he had to land in a gourd again, he'd live.

But if he didn't kill Lysander before the thing activated its gravity intensification magic... Reid pictured a bug smashing itself against a windshield.

"FUCK YOU!"

Reid pushed power into his arms as he shouted, and flung Requiem like a spear. The tip and the flanges found purchase in Lysander's flank, and the creature screeched a pained cry. Then it glowed. Magic pushed Lysander, jaws open, straight at Reid.

There was only one thing to do. Reid balled a fist, and slammed it into the roof of the beast's jaw as it bit down. Lysander's teeth slid over Reid's armor, and then clamed shut.

He found himself halfway into the beast lord's mouth, one arm free, with the other stuck between clenched jaws. Its top jaw shimmered purple, and Reid realized it was using gravity magic on itself to keep him pinned. He tore at Lysander with his bare hands.

He was stuck - his weapon was outside the creature, and his arm wasn't long enough to do enough damage to put the creature down.

The roof of the thing's mouth was an absolute mess, sure, but Reid needed to make more consequential injuries. Even his knife wouldn't be long enough to punch up to something important - but it could still deal damage.

The 30 second wait was agonizing - but they were still rising. Reid had time.

Little Nap popped into his already-bloody hand, and he stabbed. He dug holes into the creature's mouth, sliced at the insides of its jaw, and stabbed down into its tongue. Blood mixed with saliva ran slowly out of the wounds, and pooled under its tongue.

The knife wasn't working.

Reid tried to grow a longer weapon inside the thing's mouth, but failed. It was like his magic was warring with Lysander's, and it completely prevented him from growing something into the creature's flesh.

His mind raced again.

Fists wouldn't work.

The knife wasn't long enough.

It didn't feel like he could summon Requiem in the space, and he couldn't grow something large enough to do more damage.

Reid had one decent, dumb idea.

Power compressed within him as energy flooded into his hand and illuminated the heavily wounded interior of the beast's mouth.

Reid counted off seconds in his mind.

Then purple light joined his glowing hand, as Lysander sent them both plummeting towards the ground.

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