Theo walked through the cave for a long time, the only sound the crunch of grit under his sneakers and the distant, maddening whisper of the mist outside. Then, the ground betrayed him.

  His foot met empty air where solid stone should have been. He slipped, pinwheeled for a heart-stopping second, and then the slope took him. He screamed, but the sound was swallowed by the rushing dark as he slid down a smooth, steep chute of rock. It was a helpless, plummeting fall through pitch blackness.

  He shot out of the chute and tumbled across a cold, hard floor, coming to a gasping stop on his back.

  Silence. A different silence. Not the muffled quiet of the forest, but the deep, resonant stillness of a vast, enclosed space. The air was cool and carried a strange, clean scent, like lightning and fresh-cut stone.

  He slowly got up, his body aching. He looked around, and his breath caught in his throat.

  He was in a cavern so large the ceiling was lost in shadow. And lying against the far wall, half-propped on a bed of smooth rocks, was a giant.

  Easily over eleven feet tall, even in repose. The man—it had to be a man—was ancient. Long, white hair like spun frost spilled over his shoulders. A trail of dark, iridescent blood led from the base of the rock slide to where Theo now stood, but a much larger, fresher pool stained the ground beneath the giant’s leg. He was gravely injured.

  Theo’s first instinct was a cold, primal fear. Run. This was a being from a different scale of existence.

  Then he saw the details. The labored, shallow rise and fall of the massive chest. The pain etched into the noble, wrinkled face. The clumsy, makeshift bandages—huge strips of some silvery fabric—wrapped around a gash on the giant’s thigh, clearly applied by the giant himself before he’d lost consciousness.

  The fear didn’t leave, but it was joined by something else.

  “Uhm,” Theo’s voice was a dry croak in the immense space. “Are… are you okay?”

  There was no reply.

  Hesitantly, Theo crept forward. He reached out a trembling hand and touched the giant’s arm. The skin was cool and smooth, like polished granite, but it gave like flesh. The giant didn’t stir. Swallowing hard, Theo leaned in and pressed his ear to the giant’s chest, right over the slow, deep heartbeat.

  Thump-thump… thump-thump.

  Theo jerked back, eyes wide. “What the heck?”

  He had heard it clearly. Two heartbeats, out of sync, pulsing within the giant’s chest.

  He looked at the messy bandage, the scattered, strangely elegant medical tools of unfamiliar design on the floor. “Looks like he tried to treat himself… and passed out,” Theo muttered to the silent cavern.

  He turned, taking in the rest of the space for the first time. It wasn’t a natural cave. The walls were too smooth. Tables carved from luminous crystal held devices that glowed with soft, internal light. This was a place. A lived-in place.

  What am I getting myself into? The thought was a scream in his head. This was beyond lost. This was dangerous. Alien.

  He turned and started walking back toward the dark chute, his survival instinct winning.

  He stopped.

  He closed his eyes, and a different voice cut through the fear, calm and impossibly clear. The Almighty’s voice, from the ruined street. “What would a hero do?”

  Theo sighed, a sound of pure, resigned frustration. “Ugh. Crap.”

  He went back.

  Treating a giant was nothing like first aid class. It was a battle of physics. He struggled to lift the massive, limp arm to re-wrap the bandage. “Dang,” he grunted, sweat beading on his forehead. “You’re heavy.” But he managed, using the strange, self-adhering silvery fabric to secure a cleaner dressing over the worst of the wound.

  Finished, his curiosity overpowered his nerves. He began to explore.

  On a low crystal table, he found a sealed metal canister. Inside, visible through a transparent panel, swirled a vibrant, golden-yellow energy that seemed alive. On its side, a single word was etched in clean, sharp lettering: TURBO.

  “This looks like some futuristic stuff,” he whispered, awe cutting through his anxiety.

  He wandered further. In an alcove, he came across a massive, basin-like structure made of the same luminous crystal. The scale of it dawned on him. “Damn,” he breathed. “I guess he really was living here. Look at the size of this thing.”

  On another table, he found a large, leather-bound book. He opened it. The pages were filled with elegant, flowing script in a language he had never seen—symbols that looked like geometric constellations. “What language is this?” He pulled out his phone. No signal, but the camera worked. He took a picture of a page, a record of the impossible.

  Nearby, a large aquarium held water and a single, sleek fish that glowed with a soft blue internal light, its fins moving like liquid silk. “Is this even a fish?” he wondered aloud.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  He looked from the strange fish to the humming machines to the wounded giant. “What is this place?”

  Finally, his energy spent, he walked back and sat on the cold floor in front of the unconscious giant. He hugged his knees to his chest, the events of the day crashing down on him. In the profound quiet, he spoke to the sleeping form, his voice small but clear.

  “You know,” he said, “whoever you are… I’d really like to know how you got so big.”

  “I have this… impossible dream,” Theo found himself saying, the words flowing in the profound quiet. “I want to be a Responder. A hero. But everyone says it’s impossible. I saved a girl a few days ago. That was the greatest feeling I’ve ever had. That adrenaline… that spirit of protecting someone. I loved it.” His voice grew quiet. “But I also realized how weak I am. I would have been a goner if not for The Almighty. I never thought I’d see my hero in person.”

  A deep, resonant voice, like stones grinding gently beneath the earth, filled the cavern.

  “So, you were that boy. The Baseline.”

  Theo’s eyes snapped wide. He scrambled back. “You’re awake! Great. Now I… I have to leave. My dad must be worried sick.”

  The giant’s luminous eyes focused on him with immense, weary gentleness. “Boy. You saved my life. Well… gave me more time. Thank you.”

  Theo’s fear softened. “It’s okay. That’s what a hero would do.”

  With a groan that seemed to shake the air, the giant began to move. He tried to rise.

  “Uhm, I don’t think you should be standing!” Theo said, rushing forward uselessly.

  The giant ignored him, mustering strength from a deep, final reserve. He stood, one impossible leg at a time. Each movement was agony. He took one staggering step toward the crystal table, then another, groaning with the effort.

  “Stop it!” Theo yelled, his concern overriding his awe. “Your wounds are reopening! You’re putting all my hard work to waste!”

  The giant took one more step and collapsed to his knees beside the table holding the vial labeled TURBO. He braced himself against it, his breath a ragged storm.

  Theo stared, exasperated. “You could have just asked me to get that for you.”

  The giant drew a shuddering breath. “Boy. Come here. I need your help.”

  Cautiously, Theo approached. The giant’s massive hand shot out, engulfing Theo’s wrist in an unbreakable but gentle grip.

  “What are you doing? Let go!” Theo cried, panic rising.

  The giant’s other hand moved to the vial, connecting a long, wicked-looking needle to a metallic syringe. It gleamed in the cavern’s light.

  Theo’s struggles became frantic. “Stop it! Stop! What are you doing? Is this how you repay me?!”

  “I have seen your courage,” the giant rumbled, his voice weakening but iron-strong. “I have witnessed your kindness. I believe… you can carry this burden.”

  He raised the syringe. It was the longest needle Theo had ever seen. A cold terror locked his joints. Is this what I get for helping someone?

  Then, cutting through the panic, another voice rang in his mind. Calm. Certain. The Almighty’s voice.

  “No. When there is someone in need, help them. No matter the cost. That is what it means to be a hero.”

  Theo stopped fighting. He met the giant’s fading gaze. There was no malice there. Only a profound, sorrowful hope.

  “I heard your story,” the giant whispered. “And yes. You can become a Responder. Your dream will come true. You will be this world’s greatest human. The pillar this world will stand on. So never doubt yourself. Never doubt your…”

  He coughed, and a trickle of iridescent blood stained his lips. He finished, his voice a fading breath. “Never doubt your kindness. That is who you are. This world needs it now more than ever.”

  They were the first words of true belief Theo had ever heard. A dam broke inside him. Tears streamed down his face.

  The giant smiled, a faint, heartbreaking expression. “I wish I had the time to know you better, kid. Your life is about to change. So wipe those tears from your face. I believe in you. And now… I leave you in Stupendous’s hands.”

  His eyes closed. The immense hand around Theo’s wrist went slack.

  Inside the fading consciousness of Kairos of Yilheim, one final thought flickered and died, a message sent on a frequency only one other being in the universe could hear.

  I am sorry, Valerius. My life has reached its end. But do not worry. Your world… is in good hands.

  The syringe, now full of swirling, living gold, was in the giant’s limp hand. The connection was made. The legacy was passed.

  Turbo surged through Theo's body, through very organ, every cell until he finally passed out.