After that unfortunate cooking show, I ate all the meat during the day. It didn't take long, between my super-fast metabolism and the hunger I had, it felt like a little snack.

  With a full belly and still naked, I resumed the climb.

  Maybe it was the abysmal amount of food I ate, but I felt heavier and heavier the closer I got to the summit.

  For the first time in what seemed like eons, I felt... tired. Sleepy.

  "I think we overdid the meat this time, Waldo," I said to my rocky companion, who, as always, silently judged me.

  I could feel his cold, stony stare. "Damn glutton, tone it down a bit next time."

  It took me several hours to reach the summit, feeling heavy.

  Finally!

  White snow lay all around me, cold to the touch, a beautiful sensation in contrast to the overwhelming heat produced by the twin suns.

  Ahh... I couldn’t stop myself. After all the blood and ash, the idea of carving wings into snow like a giddy child felt absurdly perfect.

  And that's exactly what I did.

  The last time I’d seen snow was... the Alps, I think? I’d gone with...

  …Who?

  There were three of them. I know that much. Three shapes. Three shadows. But their faces? Gone. Voices? Nothing.

  The details melted like snow in my palm. I tried to hold onto them, but they slipped through, weightless, formless.

  What was I forgetting? Or worse… what had I already lost?

  I lay there for a while, staring at the alien sky. Two suns. One man. One angel, pressed into snow.

  For a moment, I forgot where I was.

  And then I remembered what I couldn't.

  My family.

  I still couldn't remember their voices, their faces. The warmth of being with them, eating baked chicken on a cold winter night.

  The only thing on my mind was that I once had them.

  A mother. A father. A sister.

  Just that.

  My heart felt... tight. Not pain, not quite... just pressure.

  I closed my eyes for a moment. I had to remember them. They had to be somewhere in the back of my broken mind.

  But as always, the universe and that damned wasteland would never stop torturing me.

  The snow prickled against my skin. Sharp and icy.

  Then it stung.

  Then it burned.

  I bolted upright.

  The white snow wasn't snow anymore. It was moving, swarming. Thousands of paper-thin little insects, their translucent wings shimmering like ice shards, were burrowing into my arms, my legs, chewing my precious skin.

  “FUCK, WALDO! I CAN’T EVEN HAVE A GODDAMN EXISTENTIAL CRISIS IN PEACE!”

  Those alien termites clung to my skin like mold on meat after falling to oblivion in the darkest pit of the fridge.

  It fucking stung. I tried to shake them off, to envelop my body in aura... and nothing seemed to scare them off.

  Then came true horror.

  They began to bite through my skin and attack the flesh beneath.

  You'd think that after days of being the victim of two beasts constantly eating your intestines, your resistance to pain would increase to divine levels.

  Wrong.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  I was in pain, even more than I thought possible.

  Maybe the enhanced senses brought on by the black elixir were a double-edged sword.

  Thanks elixir, love the clarity! Hate the agony though.

  I started running around like a madman, kicking and stabbing myself in hopes of scaring off the alien termites.

  It was no use.

  I had to move fast, or they'd eat me down to my bones. I didn't want to become a walking buffet again, no sir, hell no.

  "So my aura isn't enough, huh? How rude."

  I squeezed out aura like a constipated demon trying to lay a boiled egg. One left too long on the stove.

  BOOOOM!

  My aura erupted in all directions, erasing the snow, the termites, and even some of my dignity in the blast radius.

  Horrified, I watched as the snow moved like a water tide and quickly approached me, hungry and ready to resume eating.

  "We're out of here, Waldo!"

  I held on tight, squatted down, and pumped energy into my legs.

  Would this work? I had no idea. I was about to find out.

  With a sharp exhale, I released the energy and jumped forward like a broken firework.

  "WOOOOOOH! WE ARE FLYING, WALDO! FLYING! I BELIEVE I CAN FLY!"

  The feeling was liberating.

  No more termites trying to eat me. Lava-hot wind hitting my face. Light from two suns burning my skin and giving me a sexy tan, or maybe skin cancer.

  That was life. Simple, relaxing.

  But there was a problem.

  Gravity remembered I existed.

  I was falling. Fast.

  How was I going to land?

  "WALDO?! DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE A PARACHUTE IN YOUR INVENTORY?"

  No. He didn't. Classic Waldo.

  I tried to control my fall by gliding.

  Of course, it didn't work, since I was naked, and my loose willy wasn't exactly aerodynamics-friendly.

  I was falling faster and faster. I needed to do something, anything.

  Then, a wonderful idea popped into my head.

  Thank you, webnovels. Once again, your wisdom has—

  THUD!

  I slammed into the cold, hard ground like a sack of potatoes dipped in bad decisions.

  Every single one of my bones shattered. Some popped out of place. Some out of my body. I think my left eye flew out to the sky.

  My head split open, probably exposing half my brain. I hope no one needed the left hemisphere.

  And my mind... my mind went on vacation, somewhere far away from this mess, sipping pi?a colada on a nice tropical beach.

  The last thing I remember was the ground. Of course. We were really getting to know each other.

  My vision slowly darkened... until all I saw was black.

  When I regained consciousness, it was nighttime.

  At first, I thought only a few hours had passed.

  That's great!

  Until I saw Waldo beside me, almost completely covered in dirt.

  And, a little less importantly, my own body, half buried in the ground.

  "Ah, my dear fellow! You have returned to the realm of the conscious! Most heartening indeed!" Waldo spoke to me. "I would never presume to criticize, sir, but perhaps leaping skyward without plan was... ill-advised."

  I blinked once. Then twice.

  "You are speaking to me, Waldo? After ignoring me for so long?"

  Tears began falling from my eyes.

  "I beg your pardon, sir. I was unable to speak due to some... sanity related circumstances. I am overly delighted to see you are still alive and whole."

  I exhaled and tried standing, but every corner of my body hurt like hell.

  "Oof... this is quite difficult. I can't gather the strength to get out of here."

  Waldo looked at me, quiet and analytic.

  "It would appear, sir, that your regeneration has suffered somewhat. Likely, a consequence of your cranium making rather abrupt and direct acquaintance with the terrain. The ensuing expulsion of cerebral matter may have complicated matters further, I dare say."

  Indeed. One of my last memories, apart from the floor, was my brain spewing out of my head.

  Can you feel your own brain? Yes. I discovered that fact. Dr. Keegan Carter at your service.

  "Worry not, dear Waldo. I will stand up, even if it costs me my life."

  I said that, but I really hoped it wouldn't cost me my life.

  So, time to try again.

  First, I focused my strength on my left leg.

  Slowly but surely, I began to unearth it.

  After a few minutes, I had managed to pull it out completely.

  The right leg presented no challenge, even less time than the left.

  Good, good.

  It was the arms' turn.

  I slowly raised my left arm.

  Ah, fuck! It felt like I’d signed up for a discount bone-remodeling service run by a blind blacksmith.

  "Hang in there, sir. You can do it," Waldo encouraged me with his deep British voice.

  He was right. I had to push and dig myself out.

  Between grunts and gasps, I managed to get my left arm out.

  A little more effort, and my right arm was out too.

  Finally, I was able to stand up straight and stretch.

  Every muscle in my body ached, but the satisfaction of being out of there was immense. A big smile spread across my face.

  "You know, Waldo, I think—"

  At that moment, it hit me.

  My heart started beating so hard I thought it would fly out of my chest.

  My body froze, and my hands shook.

  But the smile... the smile didn't go away.

  My family.

  The memory of them had returned to my mind.

  "Waldo... I remember them. Mom, Dad, my sister..."

  Waldo remained silent and avoided interrupting me.

  "Their faces... their smiles... their voices... are here," I said, pointing a finger at my head. "Marcus... Lilly... Eva..."

  Faces and voices I'd forgotten so long ago.

  I thought remembering them would be a curse.

  That I'd miss them too much, and that would only sink deeper into depression and madness...

  "They await you, sir. Beyond this wasteland, beyond all suffering. You must press onward. For their sake, and for your own," Waldo told me, his voice soft and soothing.

  He was right. That memory was a miracle, not a curse.

  I would continue.

  I would move forward, grow stronger. Eventually, I would find a way out of that cursed place.

  I wanted to see them one more time. To hug them. To tell them how much I missed them.

  To have breakfast with my family. To tell them about the elixirs, about the cosmic dust I inhaled every night, about the beasts I defeated and ate.

  To laugh and cry together.

  And most of all, to be able to protect them.

  I inhaled deeply, and took my time exhaling.

  "We've got a long road ahead, my friend."

  Waldo smiled and nodded slowly. "Indeed, my dear sir. The path ahead remains long and treacherous. But fear not, we have but scratched the surface of destiny's design."

  He was right, as always. Classic Waldo.

  It was time to close the book of my misfortunes and start over.

  Step one: conquer the alien wasteland.

  Step two... I'd get to that eventually.