And then he stood there.

  Not large.

  Not overwhelming.

  But present.

  The little bear stood about eighty centimeters tall as he stepped fully out of the mist. His fur shone in a rich, deep red that looked almost unnatural in the diffuse light of the swamp. Only his belly was pure white, sharply defined, as if someone had deliberately chosen the color.

  His fur looked soft. Almost plush.

  And yet there was nothing cute in his posture.

  His gaze was sharp. Unmistakably arrogant. His small, dark eyes examined Darek without the slightest hesitation, as if it wasn’t him being evaluated here—but the other way around.

  His arms were brazenly folded across his chest.

  He wasn’t waiting.

  He was making a statement.

  A tangible tension hung in the air. Not threatening. Not aggressive.

  Expectant.

  As if this moment had been suspended for a very long time.

  Iris floated slightly to the side, her core pulsing calmer than before.

  “Here. That’s him, Darek,” she said.

  Her voice sounded almost… satisfied.

  “I managed to convince him to at least let you introduce yourself first. He actually wasn’t very interested.”

  A brief, barely visible twitch passed through the red fur of the small bear.

  “At least until I mentioned the human world.”

  A tiny grin appeared on his face.

  Then he spoke.

  His voice was surprisingly sweet. High enough to sound harmless. And yet beneath it lay a depth—a foundation that didn’t match his size.

  “So the eye didn’t lie.”

  He tilted his head slightly and studied Darek even more closely.

  “Seems you really are a being from the human world.”

  His nose twitched slightly, as if smelling something invisible to others.

  “The energy you radiate makes it obvious. You are not from here.”

  His gaze flicked past Darek toward the monstrosity still regenerating behind him, which continued to take shape with wet, smacking sounds.

  Then it returned.

  Directly into Darek’s eyes.

  “And you need my power. Right?”

  Darek remained calm.

  He simply cast a brief glance over his shoulder. The monster had just pushed a second arm beneath itself. Mud ran down its body.

  It wouldn’t take long now.

  Without hurry, Darek walked toward the bear.

  Seraphis glided silently beside him. Watchful. Calm.

  Together they approached the small red bear.

  Only now did the tension between them become tangible.

  Two forces.

  Two worlds.

  Darek stopped. Then he bent slightly so he was at eye level with the creature.

  He smiled.

  Not arrogant.

  Not pleading.

  Open.

  “Hey. My name is Darek. And this is Seraphis.”

  The snake lifted its head slightly, never taking its eyes off the bear.

  “We are part of the same soul.”

  Darek held the eye contact. Steady. Calm.

  “And from time to time, in an equal contract, we’d like to borrow your power.”

  The red bear raised one eyebrow.

  Darek continued.

  “It seems you’re interested in the human world as well.”

  A faint spark appeared in the bear’s eyes.

  “If our connection reaches the third stage, you could materialize there occasionally—with my permission.”

  He tilted his head slightly.

  “How does that sound?”

  The small red bear listened without blinking once.

  His arms remained folded.

  His head tilted back slightly.

  Then he rolled his eyes.

  “Yeah, yeah…”

  He waved lazily with a paw, as if brushing aside an annoying formality.

  “Let’s get to the terms.”

  Darek blinked.

  The bear stepped closer. Not threatening. Not hurried.

  But with the calm confidence of someone who already knew he wouldn’t be refused.

  “You need power,” he said dryly.

  “I can see it. I can smell it. You’re standing in front of a monster that refuses to die, hoping I’m your solution.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly.

  No boasting. No exaggeration.

  Just fact.

  “So let’s keep this efficient.”

  He raised a small red paw and counted with extended claws.

  “I want full materialization in the human world once the conditions are met.”

  His gaze sharpened.

  “No half summons. No partial manifestations. Fully.”

  He stepped half a pace closer to Darek and looked up at him.

  Despite his size, it didn’t feel like inferiority.

  More like a general dictating terms to a new officer.

  “In return, I take up residence in your soul.”

  He said it casually, as if talking about a spare guest room.

  “And for a minor price, I lend you one of my abilities.”

  A thin smile appeared.

  “Or I fight for you directly.”

  He let the words settle.

  Behind them, the monster continued to rise with grinding sounds.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  The red bear cast it a brief sideways glance.

  Then folded his arms again.

  “You get power.”

  A small pause.

  “I get access.”

  Darek stood motionless.

  He had expected curiosity.

  Careful examination.

  Maybe skepticism.

  But not this.

  Not this audacity.

  Not this certainty.

  For a moment he wasn’t just stunned.

  He was speechless.

  The small bear watched him.

  Waiting.

  Not nervous.

  Not impatient.

  But with the quiet certainty that the answer had already been decided.

  So arrogant…

  Darek gathered himself.

  A creature smaller than his torso stood in front of him and negotiated as if it were doing him a favor.

  And the worst part was—

  He couldn’t even say the bear was wrong.

  Darek slowly raised an eyebrow.

  He folded his own arms now, unconsciously mirroring the bear’s posture.

  “I don’t even know what you can do.”

  His voice stayed calm, but noticeably colder.

  “Maybe you’re useless.”

  A faint trace of dislike crept into his tone.

  He hated arrogant types.

  Especially those who believed they had already won a negotiation before it even began.

  The red bear did not look offended.

  Not even surprised.

  He simply lifted his chin slightly higher.

  “My abilities?”

  A narrow grin spread across his face.

  “For a Dream-being, I’m still quite young.”

  He stretched slightly, as if presenting himself.

  “That’s why I only have one ability.”

  A brief pause.

  Not because he was searching for words.

  Because he wanted them to matter.

  “But that alone is enough to deal with anything and anyone.”

  His gaze briefly moved to the rising monster, then returned to Darek.

  His eyes glittered.

  “It’s called Forceform Conversion.”

  He said the name as if it were obvious.

  As if anyone with even the slightest understanding would instantly know what it meant.

  Darek twisted his mouth slightly.

  “Forceform Conversion?”

  His tone was skeptical. Analytical.

  He looked the bear over again.

  The plush appearance.

  The small size.

  The folded arms.

  The red bear rolled his eyes.

  “You’re thinking too small.”

  He dropped his arms and stepped aside, his profile visible in the pale swamp light.

  “I can transform my combat form and body structure into a technique that draws its power directly from my emotions.”

  He raised a finger, explaining.

  Almost lecturing.

  “Let’s say I’m angry.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly. For a brief moment his small body tensed—and the air around him seemed to grow heavier.

  “Then I activate my ability.”

  He tapped his chest.

  “My body adapts. My muscles condense. My bones become tougher. My stance becomes more aggressive.”

  A crooked grin spread across his face.

  “And at the same time, a combat technique develops that perfectly matches that form.”

  He made a short, fluid motion with his paw, as if striking an invisible enemy.

  “Not just raw strength.”

  A pause.

  “Optimized strength.”

  His gaze flicked briefly toward the monster still rising.

  “Now if I were… afraid.”

  He pronounced the word like a theoretical disease.

  “My body would become slimmer. More streamlined. My muscles would focus on speed instead of impact.”

  He stepped half a pace back, surprisingly fluid.

  “And I would automatically develop a technique focused on evasion, escape, and long-range counters.”

  He paused.

  Coughed briefly.

  “But I’ve never been afraid in my life.”

  His chin lifted again.

  “I doubt I even could be.”

  A broad, smug grin.

  “Who exactly would scare me?”

  “Hah—”

  He coughed again.

  “Cough… cough…”

  He cleared his throat and continued as if nothing had happened.

  “Of course, the intensity of the emotion matters.”

  His voice turned more analytical.

  “The stronger the emotion, the stronger the resulting form.”

  His eyes locked onto Darek.

  “A little annoyance creates a stable combat structure.”

  “Raging fury?”

  His eyes flashed.

  “Destruction.”

  For a moment the air itself seemed tense.

  Not because of his size.

  But because of the concept.

  A being whose body and technique evolved perfectly to match his emotional state.

  No fixed ability.

  No rigid fighting style.

  But real-time combat evolution.

  The small bear folded his arms again.

  “So…”

  He tilted his head.

  “Still think that’s useless?”

  Arrogance at its peak.

  Darek studied the small red bear calmly. Analytically.

  His words sounded impressive.

  Flexible.

  Adaptable.

  Powerful.

  But impressive didn’t automatically mean reliable.

  The technique isn’t bad.

  He had to admit it.

  An ability that adapted body and combat style to emotions had enormous potential.

  Especially for someone like him.

  Because he had no combat training.

  No remarkable physical strength.

  No instincts forged by decades of experience.

  Such an ability could compensate for that.

  Especially for me.

  But the longer he thought about it, the more something bothered him.

  Too vague. Too dependent on emotions. Too situational. Too unpredictable.

  What if he didn’t feel the right emotion at the decisive moment?

  What if the intensity wasn’t enough?

  What if fear made him weaker instead of faster?

  He needed something reliable.

  Something concrete.

  Not something dependent on how he felt.

  Darek lifted his gaze.

  His expression was calm.

  “Useless.”

  The word landed heavily.

  Not loud.

  Not shouted.

  Simply factual.

  The small red bear froze.

  His mouth remained open for a moment. His eyes widened.

  “Wha—”

  He actually stumbled half a step sideways, as if pushed by something invisible.

  “Wh-what are you talking about, you stupid human?!”

  His fur bristled.

  “This ability is almost impossible to surpass!”

  A deep growl vibrated in his chest.

  “Grrrr—”

  The air around him shimmered slightly.

  Not visible.

  But tangible.

  Like pressure building before a storm.

  “I… Pow-Pow… am the strongest Dream-being that exists!”

  He stomped the ground.

  For his size it should have looked ridiculous.

  Yet the mud splashed far wider than expected.

  “Yes, I may only be one hundred and seven years old!”

  His chin lifted proudly.

  “Which is very young!”

  His eyes burned with anger.

  “But an ability like mine is incomparable!”

  His breathing accelerated.

  His body tensed.

  And there it was.

  The anger.

  Raw.

  Real.

  His fur darkened slightly.

  His stance widened.

  His shoulders pulled back.

  The ground beneath him sank slightly, as if something heavier suddenly stood there.

  Denser.

  More intense.

  Darek watched silently.

  Unimpressed.

  “Poser.”

  The answer came dry.

  Calm.

  Almost bored.

  No provocation in his voice.

  No raised tone.

  Just a statement.

  That hurt more than shouting ever could.

  Pow-Pow’s eyes widened.

  Then his face twisted with rage.

  His small plush appearance cracked—like something wild was pushing through beneath it.

  “You—!”

  His fur bristled.

  The air around him began to vibrate like heat over hot stone.

  Behind them, the monster finally pulled itself together.

  A wet smacking sound.

  A deep, rumbling breath.

  Its head snapped upward.

  Pow-Pow’s gaze immediately shot toward it.

  His pupils narrowed.

  “That’s why you called me, right?”

  His voice had changed.

  Lower.

  Rougher.

  The sweetness was gone.

  He pointed with a trembling paw at the rising monster.

  “I’ll show you, you ungrateful bastard!”

  Fine cracks spread through the mud beneath his feet.

  “The power you’re mocking!”

  The monster rose fully.

  Its newly fused muscles flexed.

  One arm slowly lifted.

  Heavy.

  Ready to strike.

  Pow-Pow trembled.

  Not with fear.

  With emotion.

  Pure rage.

  His chest rose and fell rapidly.

  His heartbeat seemed to echo in the air.

  Then he roared:

  “Forceform Conversion!”

  The words weren’t loud.

  But they hit.

  A pressure wave burst outward as if the air itself had been pushed aside.

  Pow-Pow’s body began to change.

  From eighty centimeters he grew to two meters.

  Then three.

  Then three and a half.

  His bright red fur darkened.

  Deeper.

  Dirtier.

  Almost as if blood had soaked into every fiber.

  His muscles didn’t grow bulky.

  They compressed.

  Every step made the ground sink beneath him.

  Darek grinned.

  Hahaha… got him.

  Iris’ voice echoed inside his mind.

  Clever. I expected nothing less from you, Darek.

  Behind them the monster’s body finished reassembling.

  And it grew.

  Longer.

  Larger.

  Fourteen meters now.

  Maybe more.

  Its colors flickered between deep violet, black, and eerie transparency.

  As if it wasn’t fully anchored in reality.

  Then—

  it finished.

  And the moment the final fiber closed, everything changed.

  The swamp grew heavy.

  A dark pressure spread across the marsh.

  As if gravity itself had multiplied tenfold.

  Darek was slammed into the ground.

  Votaria too.

  Mud exploded upward.

  Air burst from his lungs.

  Seraphis strained his body, fighting the pressure.

  Iris flickered, barely stabilizing.

  Only two figures remained standing.

  Pow-Pow.

  And Ursula.

  Emotionally cold.

  Focused.

  Darek inhaled half mud, half air as Seraphis helped him kneel.

  Ursula never took his eyes off the monster.

  Before Votaria’s face hit the mud, a vine shot forward and caught her.

  Iris shouted:

  “He’s stronger! Damn this mutation! Don’t underestimate him!”

  Ursula moved.

  Heavy steps shook the ground.

  Pow-Pow stood in front.

  The monster didn’t roar.

  It lost something.

  Its animal nature faded.

  It seemed distant.

  As if trading personality for power.

  Its tail whipped through the air.

  Without even looking at Ursula—

  it struck him.

  At the same time an enormous tongue shot toward Pow-Pow.

  Two attacks.

  Two targets.

  Ursula reacted instantly.

  Darek wanted to jump up.

  To help.

  But the pressure held him down.

  He could only kneel and watch.

  The tail struck Ursula.

  He didn’t dodge.

  Instead he braced himself and caught it with both vine-wrapped paws.

  The vines coiled instantly around the limb.

  The impact tore the ground open beneath him.

  But he held.

  At the same moment the tongue struck Pow-Pow.

  He let himself be pulled.

  Without resistance.

  As if he had been waiting for it.

  When the tongue tried to drag him into the mouth—

  he grabbed the lower jaw with his left hand.

  With his right he tore the tongue apart in one cold motion.

  Blood sprayed.

  Dark.

  Thick.

  He grabbed the upper jaw.

  Dropped his weight.

  Twisted his hips.

  His eyes burned with fury.

  The massive body followed the motion.

  Half a turn.

  Then another.

  Then a third forced rotation.

  Not elegant.

  But destabilizing.

  The creature crashed into the mud.

  Pow-Pow grabbed again.

  One hand on the upper jaw.

  One on the lower.

  Ursula pulled the tail.

  The tension inside the monster was enormous.

  The air vibrated.

  They tried to tear it apart.

  But the cracks healed faster.

  Faster than before.

  Instead of tearing—

  the monster seemed to grow along the wounds.

  Suddenly it found footing.

  Its tail rose.

  Struck.

  Ursula slammed into the mud.

  “URSULA!” Votaria screamed.

  A second strike.

  A crack echoed.

  Ursula was hurled toward Votaria.

  Pow-Pow kept forcing the jaws apart.

  Iris shouted:

  “Darek! We need a way out! A grotto salamander was bad enough! This mutated thing has no limits! If this continues we should leave the dream! Don’t forget—apart from the Dream-beings, almost nothing here is truly real!”

  Darek clenched his teeth.

  He looked at Seraphis.

  Not for a plan.

  For courage.

  Then he shouted:

  “Pow-Pow! You weakling! Something as useless as you is worthless to me! Go back where you came from!”

  Pow-Pow’s eyes went wild.

  He grew another half meter.

  With raw force he slammed the monster’s head into the mud.

  Trying to tear the jaws apart.

  The creature’s feelers twitched.

  The pressure rose again.

  This time they barely held.

  The tail struck the ground again.

  The swamp trembled.

  Think, Darek. Think.

  Suddenly he became calm.

  Focused.

  He raised his hands.

  Red dust began to pour from them.

  First a faint mist.

  Then more.

  Then a dense, pulsing cloud over a meter wide.

  He didn’t hesitate.

  He hurled it.

  “Let’s see what you’re really capable of.”

  The cloud struck.

  Not the monster.

  Pow-Pow.

  Darek whispered:

  Rage.