The Hole. Located in the Chihuahuan Desert, it’s a 1,609 kilometer wide gaping maw into a chasm of sheer azure rock thrice as tall as the Hole is wide. At its ‘bottom’ waits an openly gang run prison and strange tunnels teeming with dangerous spirit beasts. What made it truly inescapable, however, was the fact that the Hole was not a hole in the ground, but six kilometers high in the sky.

  Any would-be escapee sturdy enough to survive the fall would have to further contend with, Shap Fire, a short woman with short flame-blue hair, eyes like the sky, and a feisty ‘in your face’ attitude. She was one of the many heiresses of the Hiu Dynasty, a first stage immortal realm cultivator, and currently doing her best intimidating glare at me from my navel height.

  “This Shap Fire has seen your kind before, Memetic Cultivator. You think you fool Shap Fire with your act, but Shap Fire knows those cuffs restrain you as much as paper. Luckily Shap Fire is wise. Once elder sister Eternal Pearl arrives, she’ll destroy your Dao core.”

  She laughed.

  “Such torments await you, Memetic Cultivator. You will know pain and you will sing us all we wish of your brutish altogether unpleasantly masculine hypermuscular sect of genetically deviant barbarians. Don’t try to escape. Don’t even think about it! Else, this Saph Fire will crystallize your body herself.”

  Qi intense enough to warp reality churned on her palm, causing impurities of the atmosphere to transmute into twinkling sparks of sapphire gemstone.

  I was at a disadvantage, which put me in advantage, but even with my conceptual disadvantage-advantage over her, a battle with this woman would have most definitely cost me a limb or two. First’s final fate had shown that the bloodline abilities of the Hiu Dynasty were not to be trifled with.

  I did have an ace prepared for situations like these, but was thankfully spared from having to pull it out.

  “Mistress Saph Fire! Mistress Saph Fire!” An American bodybuilder I’d seen on TV before ran into the landing bridge of the prison, wearing only scented oil and speedos. He dove into a sliding kowtow, presenting a cracked *Pad to the cultivator. “Endless apologies for the delay. Mistress Saph Fire, your most honored elder sister Eternal Pearl won’t be able to respond to your summons for thirteen days.”

  On the *Pad screen displayed a message exchange between the bodybuilder and a person I assumed to be Eternal Pearl’s phone handler.

  15:03 SAPH: Memetic Cultivator at Hole!!! Need Eternal Pearl to come destroy his cultivation ASAP.

  17:18 PEARL: Lol k. I’ll ask.

  17:18 SAPH: URGENT! She’s going nuts!

  17:20 PEARL: Chill, mmkay? Pearly is having her naughty time out rn.

  17:20 SAPH: ???

  17:20 SAPH: HELLO?

  17:21 SAPH: Jesus Liss answer me right now!

  17:22 SAPH: I’m dming boss.

  17:23 SAPH: I’m gonna do it!

  17:26 SAPH: I’m doing it! I’ve got it typed out

  17:27 PEARL: Dude, f off. I had to take her gag out. You totally ruined the time out play, so hope you’re happy. She says we gotta go deal with some old suits with working nukes in Florida. It’ll take like a week tops. N U K E S. So unless it’s like a lesser deity level threat or something, don’t msg us again. Saph can handle one crummy meme cultivator. Bye loser.

  Saph Fire launched an invisibly fast technique, turning the *Pad to azure gemstone. “Obtain a higher quality Aii Pad that does not have communication delays such as that last one.”

  That had been the latest model though.

  “Of course, Mistress. This will be done!” The oiled bodybuilder slid himself out of the conversation in reverse, whilst remaining in kowtow, which spoke of highly developed toe muscles.

  I gained unexpectedly useful intel from the dm exchange between the cultivators’ phone handlers. Firstly, the internet of the Americas still lived, albeit in a highly restricted form. Secondly, the cultivators had abandoned their former methods of fast communication and opted instead to switch to our technology. The fact that they found our information technology so useful, combined with the threat of nuclear weapons warranting a lesser deity’s involvement spoke well of our overall chances to free Earth. We’d need to visit these suits after I freed Kevin for potential cooperation.

  Saph Fire poked my abs while posturing aggressively again. “Enjoy this undeserved fortune, memetic cultivator. But try to use even a whisper of your techniques, and this Saph Fire will annihilate you with the full might of a true immortal realm cultivator!”

  They dropped me on the main prison yard with a towel, a blanket, and a bar of soap. Men and women, the old and the young, all mingled about in groups big and small. A group of Spanish speaking gentlemen fried spear-long shish kebabs of blue mystery meat with fire Qi. A black grandma was shouting at a group of kids who seemed more interested in a tiny blue lizard-insect pet than the meditation exercise she was trying to demonstrate. Over by a water fountain, some youths were goofing off and trying to dodge their friend’s water Qi techniques.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Though some of the ‘inmates’ had tattoos, I could not spot a single classic gangbanger. I could not rely on the classic ‘one up a bully’ tactic for Big Dick energy generation.

  “Howdy friend, welcome to Freedomtown, the last surviving democracy in all of US of A.” A middle aged woman with a big smile clapped on my shoulder. “Me, I’m Susan Jones, something of a mayor-senator-president or the like. Who might I have the honor of welcoming to our little community?”

  We exchanged a firm handshake. I introduced myself, and said, “I’m looking for a man named Kevin.”

  “There’s a couple o’ Kevin’s out here. Gotta be a wink more specific.”

  “You would recognize him. Tall, wide of girth, neckbeard, a black longcoat, a fedora.”

  “Ah. Gotcha.” Her smile dipped into a sigh. “What can I say? Is a shame what happened to him, though that’s how it goes, isn’t it? Came here one day out of nowhere. Asked the cavers about soft rock.”

  “The cavers?”

  Susan nudged at a hole in the Hole’s wall, a round organic tunnel guarded by a pair of happily chatting inmates. The prison was peppered by such openings. A few were sealed by formations and physical walls. Most had a varying number of guards stationed by them.

  “Them who delve into the cracks of the big H for skyspawn. Big ole monsters. Well, some aren’t too big and honestly a couple are kinda cute, but most will bite your face off if you let ‘em. You gotta watch out for the eyes. Most of ‘em make tricks on the eyes. It’s hard to make them out against the stone. Then there’s the maws. Eyeless holes just waiting for the next poor sod to step right into their waiting mouth and SNAP. There goes a legs. SLURP. There goes the whole body, legs, limbs, head and all. KPHUFGR. There goes, you guessed it, the eyelids. A horrible way to go. So horrible. Though not so much these days, you see ole Hector by the second floor cells came up with these expanding ankle guards. Keeps the maw open long enough to pull you out. I’m not sponsored, but. Well, get a pair if you wanna keep on walking is all I’ll say. Heh. Where was I?”

  I struck a pose that increased the focus of those beholding me. “Kevin’s whereabouts.”

  “Ah. Poor lad. Didn’t buy the shoes. Didn’t even ask about borrowing any equipment or weapons or none of that. Asked for directions and walked into the Chittering Crevice.” Susan gestured at the largest and most heavily sealed opening. Surface of the makeshift vault door was littered with warning signs and drawings of lizard-insects devouring people. “Been a long while since he went in. Even his pigeon friend stopped waiting. Cute little thing. Had this hat and everything.” She chuckled, before her tone darkened. “We had a funeral, though father Anderson didn’t know much to say about him. Hole’s gotten a little calmer since then, but wouldn’t hold my hopes up. Couple days is the longest anyone’s survived in there. Were you friends?”

  “Close friends.” I expressed the depth of our friendship with another posture change.

  “My condolences, Titan. I’m sorry you had to come all this way to hear this. It ain’t right. We’re working hard to keep tragedies like his from happening, but, there’s only so much we can do. Best we can do is teach Qi to everyone. Make sure they’ve got a fighting chance.”

  “That’s kind of you.”

  “You gotta do the right thing, or the world forgets how it’s done. That’s our motto. Take your time processing your friend’s death, Titan. We’ve a system here to make sure everyone can contribute, but it’s best if you rest first.”

  She gave me a hand-drawn ten dollar bill and some instructions for how to make myself at home in the Hole.

  So as to not cause the good people of Freedomtown any trouble, I pried open the vault door of the Chittering Crevice and sealed it behind me. They must’ve thought me insane with grief, since I didn’t gain any Big Dick energy. Not that I needed it.

  The swarm of lizard-insects that welcomed me were not much stronger than freshly corrupted demonic hounds, and I’d grown in strength since wrestling with them. Their jaws could not pierce my muscular skin, so I let them hang on and used them as body weights for light cardio.

  I jogged down the organic tunnels, following katana slash murals that depicted various anime girls. The Hole reminded me of the starfish, except with hardened stony replacing the soft organic walls of its veins and no blood flow. Only faint wisps of Sky Dao remained within the stone. Some part of the creature had to be alive though, since these ‘protective’ creatures were still around. Though what could Kevin have wanted with it? Why had he come here?

  Big Brain mode found no answers to my question. It must’ve been an advanced 300 IQ plan that even I could not fathom.

  Skyspawn grew bigger and stronger. I shed off the small guys stuck and switched for heavier body weights. These guys clamped down hard enough to nearly pierce my skin. Each weighed over a ton. Just goes to show that you can find perfect exercise buddies wherever you go, as long as you keep an open mind about the definition of exercise.

  My body weight friends kept ramping up in size and ferociousness.

  I had to actively clench my muscles to keep my skin intact.

  I even came across one fella too strong to become a weight. Sage realm, or close to it. We had a nice refreshing tumble, during which I turned the monster’s body into an improvised protein shaker and its insides into a protein shake elixir. Slight lemony aftertaste. Not bad.

  Just when I was getting warmed up, I found a tunnel littered with hundreds upon hundreds of bones of creatures similar to the one I’d just slain. Skeletons lie motionless, bones sliced apart by impossibly smooth cuts.

  And then, I felt it: An concentration of Neckbeard energy so intense it rivaled my own.

  Trail of death led me to a hallway lined with shelves crowded by thousands of tiny bone anime waifu figurines, their skin painted with varying shades of skyspawn’s blue blood. I recognized their design as ‘monster girls’ of some kind. I was close. The hallway opened into a wide chamber populated by life-sized skyspawn skin dolls in the shape of aforementioned monster girls. They wore a macabre ensemble of monster-skin clothes, from swimsuits to maid outfits. Bony name tags with chan-somethings hung from their collars.

  “Ah, jealous of my fine collection of classic skybeast waifus?” asked a familiar voice.

  “Dare I ask what you used as their stuffing?”

  “Neckbeard sect has its own share of secrets too dark to be shared.” My old friend leaned against the wall behind me, his hat hiding his eyes to grant him an air of edgy mystique. A saint realm skyspawn was skewered on his katana.

  “Oho, so it’s a sect now?”

  “For a long time now. I trust your vacation was most enjoyable.”

  “Yeah, Xianxia world was interesting. Though we did run into a Karen.”

  “Speak not to me of Karens. I’ve had my fair share of dealing with their newly formed sect during my American voyage.”

  “Tell me all of it. Though I’ve gotta say,” I said and went over to crush him with a brotherly hug. “It’s good to see you buddy.”

  “I too am overjoyed over this reunion of true gentlemen.” Awkward though it was, he returned the embrace.

  We sat down to chill and grill the delicious skyspawn, swapping stories. The mood was jovial until Kevin mentioned one thing that could doom us all.

  “Oh, the nukes? I know the man behind it. Jonathan Hustlington. Handsome, if arrogant. I’ve heard him refer to himself as a Sigma Cultivator.”