Dying hurts!

John trudged down an endless path, taking one step at a time in line. There were tens of people in front of him, and hundreds behind him. He did not know how long he had been walking, but slowly, he was creeping closer to a small boat, traveling back and forth across a pitch black river. A hunched man with a pole loaded people into it every time he reached the shore, then sent them off on the other side. It took a bit, but finally, it was John’s turn. Just as he was about to step onto the boat, the hunched man held up his hand. A raspy, ethereal voice flowed from under his black hood.

“No living can cross the Styx. Go back.”

“I’m dead. I know I am, my hp hit zero. I should be dead, right?”

“Tell that to the people who are reviving you. Now step out of the line, sir, you are holding up the damned. So many senseless deaths, so little time…” the man grumbled as he gestured for John to step aside and to the next person to get onto the ferry.

Taking a few steps off the path, John looked around a bit confused. The river was filled with floating debris, books, toys, photos and lockets, all of it seeming to be random junk. In the distance he saw a group of dwarves hitting the ground with their pickaxes, a banner showing off a monocle and a blunderbuss waving in the non-existent wind. Just when John was wondering what he should do now, not being dead but not having anywhere to go, he felt a burning pain in his chest.

Arnold had looked surprised when Miranda and Cynthia brought back John’s corpse; the boy’s body had been badly wounded, blood starting to clot as his face went pale. Cynthia was hugging him as they laid him down in the temple. Arnold took a deep breath, then thought of something. “Cynthia, step away. Miranda, help me take off his clothes; anything of metal should go. Quickly!” The two senior hunters started to undress John as fast as they could, leaving him with just his boxers on in the middle of the deserted temple.

With the clothes out of the way, Arnold whistled sharply; a loud cry came from outside, and Marco flew towards his master. The man scratched him on his little head before rubbing his feathers, taking two that were about to fall out on their own. “Marco, I need your help here. I need you to focus your power on these two feathers when I tell you to, okay?” The bird nodded, watching how his master took the two feathers and jammed them into John’s chest, a bit apart. “Clear!” Arnold yelled, nodding at his bird. Lightning flashed in Marco’s eyes; he spread his wings, and two lightning bolts shot to the feathers. John’s body tensed and shot up, only to drop down again. Arnold ground his teeth, then spoke up. “Try again, Marco, a bit more power. If he’s already dead, it won’t hurt him anyway.”
Marco cawed, then fired blue lightning at the feathers again, the smell of ozone heavy in the air when John’s body shot up once more, a slight trace of smoke coming from his lips when… He started to cough.

John cramped his hands as he felt the burning pain get more intense and cried out in pain when, suddenly, a light beam hit him from above, starting to drag him back upwards. The old ferryman, halfway across the river, waved his oar at him. “See! Told you, you were not dead!”

John cringed. “The Abyss, full of idiots,” he mumbled, ascending rapidly. In a blur, everything went black, and then he was back. Popups flaring in the corner of his eye, a painful, burning feeling in his chest and an unclear picture in front of his eyes. The smell of burned flesh and seared hair filled his nose as he coughed heavily. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to look, life was pain, but he was alive. It took him a bit, but he took a deep, wheezing breath.

Cynthia jumped forward and hugged his arm, tears streaming down her face as his eyes regained their focus.

Arnold pulled the two feathers from his chest and ran a hand through John’s hair. “Welcome back, John. You look like shit.” John cracked a faint smile, until he realized that also hurt.

Miranda turned to the statue in front of the temple and bowed. “Thank you, Lady Artemis,” she spoke solemnly, then turned around and looked at John. “I am impressed, and angry; you were reckless, but you did complete your hunt. Good job, John.”

John nodded, licking his lips as two pets slowly walked into the temple, one a large spotted feline, the other a small pangolin, riding on his head. The pangolin let out a soft squeak when the leopard accelerated; seeing their master, both cried out in happiness, and hearing this, John slowly tilted his head, rolling it to the side to see Toph riding on the head of a large, mature leopard. The leopard had a patch of blackened fur on his cheek, one of the spots John had seen a wound on Jack before, so, trying his best to sound normal, he asked. “Jack?”

The leopard nodded, mewing happily as he pounced on top of John, knocking the wind out of him while Toph nuzzled his cheek from the side. “I’m alive, guys, I’m alive, don’t kill me now.” Toph shed small tears while Jack licked all over his face, his raspy tongue feeling cold but comforting.

Through great distress and the sacrifice of his master, Jack has partly awakened his potential, reaching level 10 and, in that way, maturing from a Lesser Snow Leopard into a Adolescent Snow Leopard.

Just as John wondered how Jack had gotten this big, one of the pop-ups **** its way into his field of vision. He dismissed it with a painful blink, then saw another pop up flash through, with a tired sigh he forcefully suppressed the others, not wanting to deal with a whole load of snarky comments or achievements right now. For now, his mind was tired, his body hurt and he kinda just wanted to sleep.

Debuff acquired: Resurrection Sickness(20 hours)
Due to the lack of oxygen to your brain caused by a severe case of deadness, Gamer’s Body will need some time to fix your body. Physical stats have been halved during this time. HP regeneration has been slowed to 1/4th.

Well, that blew going on another hunt on Saturday out of the window. But it might be good too, he needed to think on a few things as well as talk to the people around him. However, just as he wanted to speak up, his eyelids started to droop closed. “I’m sorry, guys,” John mumbled. “Dying kinda made me sleepy, I… can’t keep my eyes open.

Cynthia smiled and kissed him on his forehead. “Of course, you need rest. I will be with you when you wake up,” she promised, getting a small smile from John.