Justin ran hard, ducking beneath a giant fern frond, then hopping over a fallen tree branch coated in moss and fungus. With every breath of steamy, jungle air, moisture coated the inside of his lungs.
A sudden noise made him dig the heels of his boots into the ground and skid to a halt. He stood quietly, his bare chest heaving with the effort of drawing breath.
He wore only a pair of high, loose-fitting trousers and boots. Even his bone-plated demon arm was uncovered. The only item he carried was a long bolo knife in a scabbard at his belt-a machete-like blade, more a tool than a weapon.
He took another deep breath and this time held it in for a moment before letting it out slowly through his nostrils, grinning a bit. Not so long ago, he would have needed his inhaler to run like this. He didn't quite know what had changed. Maybe it was the air of this world. Maybe it was his diet. Maybe it had something to do with aurym.