Passive Hatred

Progress

Alex pov

"Well so far so good"

After a tough training session, I decided to take a break and head to the library. My muscles were sore, and my mind was filled with new ideas I wanted to try. But for now, I needed a change of pace—something to relax my mind while still keeping it busy. 

The walk through Snowdin was peaceful. The cold air felt good after the hard work of training. Snow crunched under my boots as I walked, my hood pulled low over my face to avoid drawing attention. Despite my efforts to stay unnoticed, I couldn't help but see the warmth of the small town and the friendly interactions of its people.

When I got to the library, I slipped inside and gave the librarian a nod. The warm, quiet space was a nice change from the cold outside. I moved past the rows of books, running my fingers along the spines as I went. Today, I felt like exploring different parts of the library, hoping to find something new.

I wandered through the aisles, looking at the titles and occasionally pulling out a book to check it out. The history section caught my eye. It promised stories from the past. As I moved along the shelves, one book stood out. Its cover was simple but the title caught my attention: "The History of Monsters and Their Home in the Underground."

Curious, I pulled the book from the shelf. It was old and well-read, the leather binding worn. I turned it over in my hands, feeling its weight and wondering what it held. I knew that understanding the history and culture of the monsters could help me learn about my own own standing in this world.

With a deep breath, I decided to read the book later when I had more time. For now, I placed it in my bag, a promise to myself that I would return to it soon. I spent the next hour browsing through other books, taking notes, and learning more about magic and how to use it. to be explored.

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third person Perspective

With the history book securely in his bag, Alex left the library and stepped back into the chilly air of Snowdin. The cold bit at his cheeks, but the fresh air felt invigorating after the warmth of the library. He pulled his hood tighter around his face and started back towards his training spot. The path was becoming familiar now.

The snow crunched under his boots as he walked, the sound almost comforting in its consistency. Snowdin was quiet, with most residents indoors to escape the cold. It gave Alex time to think, to plan out his next training session. He knew he had a lot to learn, but each day felt like a step closer.

He reached his secluded training spot, a hidden area surrounded by tall trees and blanketed in snow. It was private and quiet, the perfect place to practice without interruptions. Alex took a moment to survey the area, making sure he was alone. Satisfied, he took off his bag and set it aside, then began his warm-up exercises.

His mind wandered to the techniques he had been working on, especially the dark tendrils that seemed to be a part of his unique magic. He had made some progress, but the tendrils were still unpredictable and difficult to control. He knew he had to keep practicing, to understand the magic better and make it work for him.

Taking a deep breath, Alex focused on his hand, trying to summon the tendrils. At first, nothing happened, but he didn't give up. He concentrated harder, imagining the tendrils forming and extending from his hand. Slowly, the dark, goopy substance began to emerge, forming into long, flexible appendages. They wavered and flickered, but Alex kept his focus, trying to solidify their shape and control their movement.

It was exhausting work, each attempt draining his energy and testing his patience. The tendrils would form and then dissolve, their shape inconsistent and their strength varying. Alex tried different approaches, sometimes focusing on one tendril at a time, other times trying to summon several at once. The progress was slow, but he could feel himself getting better, little by little.

After a few hours of intense practice, Alex decided to take a break. He sat down on a nearby rock, breathing heavily and wiping sweat from his brow despite the cold. His body ached from the effort, but there was a sense of accomplishment too. He was getting closer, understanding his magic more each day.

As he rested, Alex's thoughts drifted to the book in his bag. He was eager to read about the history of monsters and the Underground, to gain insights that might help him in his journey. But for now, he needed to recover and prepare for the next session. 

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As Alex continued through the dense fog, he realized something was wrong. The familiar path to Snowdin had vanished, replaced by an unfamiliar landscape of twisted trees and jagged rocks. He stopped and took a deep breath, trying to calm his growing panic.

"Okay, Alex, just breathe," he said aloud, his voice sounding small in the thick mist. "You can figure this out."

He turned in a slow circle, looking for any clue to his whereabouts. The fog was so thick he could barely see a few feet in front of him. Everything looked the same, an endless expanse of white and shadow.

"Think, Alex. You know Snowdin is north. Just keep heading north," he told himself, trying to sound confident. He glanced up, hoping to catch a glimpse of the sun or a break in the clouds to guide him, but the fog obscured everything.

He began walking again, choosing a direction and sticking to it. As he moved, he kept talking to himself, a steady stream of reassurances and directions.

"Just keep moving. You'll find your way back. It's just fog. You've been through worse."

His footsteps were the only sound in the eerie silence, the crunch of snow underfoot a lonely echo in the stillness. The cold seeped into his bones, but he forced himself to keep going, one step at a time.

" Stay calm. Stay focused," he muttered. "You got this. You're not going to let a little fog stop you."

He stumbled over a hidden root, nearly falling, but caught himself just in time. "Okay, maybe a big fog," he said, a weak attempt at humor to lighten his mood. "But you're still not going to let it win."

Hours seemed to pass as he walked, the fog showing no signs of lifting. His legs ached, and his breath came in frosty puffs. He felt a creeping doubt, wondering if he was walking in circles or moving deeper into unknown territory.

"No, don't think like that," he chided himself. "You have to believe you're getting closer. You will find your way."

He focused on the sound of his own voice, letting it anchor him. He talked about the things he would do once he got back to Snowdin, the warmth of the inn, the food, the sense of safety. It gave him something to aim for, a reason to keep going.

Eventually, he came to a small clearing, a break in the trees where the fog seemed slightly less dense. He paused, looking around, and spotted what seemed to be a faint trail leading away.

"That could be something," he said, hope sparking. "Just follow the trail. It has to lead somewhere."