Samuel moved like a phantom through the forest, weaving effortlessly between trees and dense undergrowth. His breath remained steady, his movements fluid, and not a single bead of sweat marked his skin. His eyes flickered across the landscape, scanning for landmarks, threats—anything that hinted at civilization.
He ran.
He ran for what felt like ages.
Mountains rose and fell in the distance, rivers cut through the land like veins, and even floating islands drifted silently above him, defying the very laws of nature. Yet he kept moving, pushing forward into the unknown.
"Where is this…?"
Samuel's voice was laced with disbelief, his mind struggling to grasp the sheer strangeness of his surroundings. Awe, confusion, and a faint sense of unease swirled within him as he took in the alien beauty around him.
"Why is this place so strange?"
Finally slowing his pace, he allowed himself a moment to truly absorb his surroundings. The dense forest was beginning to thin, giving way to vast stretches of open grassland. Rolling green hills stretched toward the horizon, their surfaces shimmering with the same eerie, glowing hue as the forest floor. Above them, the sky was a breathtaking shade of blue—vivid, endless, and untouched.
Suddenly, Samuel's eyes widened as a faint murmur drifted through the wind, tickling his ears. Voices. From his estimates, they were over 3 miles away. He strained to listen, but while he could hear them clearly, he couldn't understand a word. The language was completely unfamiliar.
"Great," he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice. "Now there's a language barrier I have to deal with. Whatever—I'll worry about it after I talk to someone."
With that, he took off, sprinting toward the distant voices. He was halfway there when a realization hit him like a brick.
He was completely naked.
"…"
Samuel came to a halt, mentally face-palming. Of course. He had been so caught up in everything—the experiment, the argument, the running, the sheer insanity of his situation—that he hadn't even thought about it.
Glancing around, he sighed. He had no idea what to expect from whoever—or whatever—lived on this world. For all he knew, they weren't even human. But regardless of what he was about to encounter, one thing was certain.
He wasn't about to meet them like this.
Taking a moment to scan his surroundings, Samuel spotted a cluster of vines and thick shrubs a few meters away. Without hesitation, he set to work, fashioning a makeshift skirt to keep himself—well, decent. It didn't take long. He had experience with this sort of thing, and with his enhanced dexterity, his fingers worked several orders of magnitude faster than any ordinary human's ever could.
Once finished, he gave the crude garment a few experimental tugs, shifting his stance to ensure it wouldn't fall apart the moment he started moving. Satisfied, he gave a small nod to himself.
It wasn't much. First impressions were bound to be a disaster anyway. But he'd work with what he had.
But then again…
If he stumbled into a civilization that wore clothes, then fine—he'd wear clothes. If they were nudists, well… he'd just have to cope. And if they were too primitive for clothing, he'd have to hunt an animal sooner or later and fashion something from its hide.
With that thought settled, Samuel took off toward the voices once more, moving with as much stealth as he could manage. His mind instinctively mapped out the terrain, taking mental notes of every potential escape route in case the locals turned out to be hostile.
Of course, stealth was a relative term. Weighing over 500 pounds of pure muscle and reinforced bone, he wasn't exactly light on his feet. But considering his size, this was probably as quiet as he was ever going to get—unless, of course, he evolved some kind of biological stealth mechanism.
Now that would be interesting, he mused, a small smirk forming as he pushed forward through the alien landscape.
As the voices grew closer, Samuel slowed his pace, dropping into a careful crawl. He moved with deliberate precision, tiptoeing between dried leaves and brittle branches, ensuring that each step was as silent as possible.
When he felt he was close enough, his eyes scanned the area for the best vantage point. Spotting a particularly thick, sturdy tree that looked capable of supporting his weight, he wasted no time. With fluid ease, he climbed, his enhanced strength making the ascent effortless.
Settling himself among the dense foliage, he steadied his breathing and peered through the leaves, ready to observe whatever—or whoever—lay ahead.
Focusing on his hearing, Samuel listened intently. The voices moved through the forest with a casual, unhurried pace, as if they had no reason to be cautious.
That struck him as odd. Didn't people usually tread carefully in the wilderness, wary of potential predators? Yet these individuals walked with an ease and carefreeness that puzzled him. If they were hunters, they'd be moving quietly to avoid alerting their prey. But they weren't.
So why were they here?
There weren't many reasons he could think of for someone to be wandering the forest if not to hunt.
From what he could discern, they sounded young. Maybe they were amateur hunters? Inexperienced enough to be careless?
Samuel narrowed his eyes, keeping still as he continued to listen, waiting for more clues.
As he pondered their motivations, Samuel's focus sharpened. The voices were drawing closer, heading in his general direction.
He figured they would come into view soon, giving him a chance to finally get a better look at the people—or creatures—he might be sharing this world with. Not that it really mattered in the long run.
I'll probably outlive them. I'll outlive their children, their civilization… maybe even this planet.
His abilities ensured that. His body adapted, evolved—endlessly. As far as he could tell, he wouldn't just outlast this species. He'd likely persist long after this universe itself had burned out.
Still, for now, he had to coexist. If that was even possible.
But first he had to see what he was working with.
As their voices drew closer, Samuel focused, picking apart the sounds and rhythms of their speech. At first, he couldn't understand a word. But the longer he listened, the more patterns began to emerge—not enough to fully comprehend what they were saying, but enough to grasp the general structure of their language.
His enhanced intellect made this process effortless. Complex problems that had stumped the greatest minds for centuries were child's play to him. Learning a new language? That was nothing more than a brief puzzle to solve. Given a few days, he could achieve fluency.
Which meant that, for now, the language barrier was merely a temporary inconvenience.
With what he had deciphered so far, he could probably respond with a simple yes or no—at least as long as their questions weren't too complex.
Finally, they emerged into his line of sight. He realized he would have spotted them much sooner if not for the dense trees and thick foliage obscuring his view.
And what he saw stopped him cold.
He saw humanoids. Incredibly, they were not very different from humans, but their green and gray skin indicated they were definitely not human. Their voices didn't sound too different from those of humans either, although there were a few peculiar sounds mixed in. Overall, nothing was too foreign. Their nails were black and sharp, and their fingers elongated. The muscles in their arms appeared to be woven with steel wire; as they walked, Samuel could swear he heard their muscles bulge and contract, like ropes straining against the force of a thousand bulls.
Their skin looked smooth, yet Samuel sensed it was harder than steel. Their eyes were yellow and slitted like a cat's. Fur sprouted from the tops of their eyebrows, extending all the way across their heads to the nape of their necks.
And tall didn't even begin to describe them. They had to be at least seven foot six on average.
One appeared to be male, the other female. Their limbs were long but well-proportioned, their skulls symmetrical and refined. There was an undeniable grace to them—majestic in a strange, almost otherworldly way.
'Oh… and what do you know? They wear clothes, that saves me some trouble.'
The long hair cascading down their heads partially concealed something he hadn't noticed at first—horns. They were small, almost insignificant, only becoming apparent when one of them flicked an ear.
It struck him as odd. If a species had evolved with horns, they must have served a purpose at some point. Yet these were so underdeveloped that they seemed vestigial, remnants of a trait long abandoned by necessity and stripped of importance through generations of disuse. Or, maybe these are still juvenile, and have yet grown into their horns?
He continued trailing them through the woods, leaping from tree to tree as silently as his hefty frame allowed. Despite the effort, barely a bead of sweat formed on his brow.
As he watched them interact—playful, carefree—it stirred something deep within him. A flicker of nostalgia. Memories of laughter, of camaraderie, of the people he once called friends. The ones he considered family. The echoes of a life long past surfaced in his mind as he tracked the pair through the forest.
And suddenly, spying on them didn't feel right anymore.
Years of surviving alone in the wild had conditioned him to move unseen, to stalk, to ambush when the moment was right. Without thinking, he had defaulted to that instinct now—watching them from the shadows like a predator waiting for an opportunity.
But these weren't prey.
And the longer he lingered, the more he questioned what he was doing.
He stopped tracking them and leaned against the tree with a quiet sigh.
Samuel needed to think. He had to analyze his situation and figure out the best way to approach them without appearing suspicious. Rubbing his temple, he let out another silent sigh, trying to focus.
'What advantages do I have right now?'
His eyes widened slightly as a thought struck him—his skin color.
'Didn't Tony mention that my skin had turned slightly grayer after the deep-sea experiment?'
Maybe he could use that as an excuse for his unusual appearance. Say he was born different or belonged to a rare lineage—something believable enough to explain away his abnormalities.
It wasn't like he could just tell them the truth. Who in their right mind would believe he was from another dimension?
Or maybe… there were humans in this universe too?
If that were the case, they might recognize him as one of the humans. Then be hostile , neutral, or friendly. Or, at the very least, there could be something that resembled him closely enough—something he could use to steer their assumptions in the right direction.
It was a gamble, but one he might have to take.
With a plan set in motion, he decided to trail them—just long enough to pick up their language. If he could understand them, he'd have a much better chance at communication, and at the same time, he might gather some clues about where exactly he had ended up in this universe.
As Samuel trailed the couple through the forest, his adaptation was already working at full force. By instinctively desiring to move as silently as possible, his body began to change in subtle, almost imperceptible ways. His muscles adjusted, contracting with newfound efficiency, while the small creaks and cracks his bones made from movement faded one by one—erased by his ever-evolving physiology.
Pheromones that would have been released through sweat or his pores were instinctively blocked. Every movement—whether his hands gripping a branch or his feet pressing against the bark—became more precise, more efficient, minimizing any unnecessary noise. Even when he had to step onto the forest floor where the trees couldn't support his weight, his body adjusted, distributing his mass in ways that made his movements nearly undetectable.
Unbeknownst to Samuel, his time in the deep sea had granted him an even more advanced form of stealth. He had adapted to suppress his own bioelectric field, making him nearly invisible to any creatures that might have sensed him through electromagnetic detection. And now, without realizing it, he was using that same ability to trail them undetected.
With such a conveniently adaptive physique, Samuel didn't have to consciously focus on his body's adjustments. As long as he kept moving, his body would instinctively refine its stealth, making him quieter, more efficient with every step.
Instead, he devoted his attention to the conversation between the two strangers. He dissected their words—not just their meanings, but the nuances buried beneath them. The way their body language shifted with certain phrases, the subtle changes in tone when they found something amusing, the distinct patterns in their accents. Every detail mattered.
If he wanted to blend in, he couldn't just learn their language. He had to construct an identity, a persona tailored to fit within their society. And to do that, he needed to understand not just what they were saying, but how they said it.
As the hours passed, Samuel wondered where they were headed. They seemed far too absorbed in each other to be on any serious errand. Their situational awareness was lacking—they had only glanced around a handful of times since he had started trailing them. If he were a predator, they would have been easy prey.
Then, a realization struck him. They weren't traveling with caution because they didn't need to. They were simply heading home—or at least to wherever they lived.
They kept mentioning a name: "Tchwquella." The way they spoke it, paired with their laughter(or at least their way of laughter), made it clear they were talking about someone—or perhaps something—important to them. But whether it was a person, a settlement, or something else entirely, Samuel couldn't be sure just yet.
Still, he continued his silent pursuit through the trees.
Two more hours passed in near silence, save for the occasional burst of laughter from the pair and the gentle rustling of the forest around them. Their energy had changed—Samuel noticed how their pace had quickened, their steps naturally falling into a rhythm that suggested familiarity. They were getting close.
Then, he saw it.
A settlement sprawled out before him, larger than he had expected. No, he thought, calling it a village wouldn't be quite right. A fiefdom? That felt more appropriate. The architecture bore an uncanny resemblance to certain periods of human history—stone foundations, wooden structures reinforced with metal, intricate carvings along the walls. It was strange to see something so familiar in a world that was meant to be entirely alien.
His eyes roamed over the settlement's fortifications. Tall stone walls encased the territory, lined with outposts that suggested a well-maintained surveillance system. This wasn't just a peaceful village—it was a stronghold. A civilization at its peak.
Samuel crouched lower on his perch, watching intently. Whatever kind of world he had stepped into, it was clear that its people weren't as primitive as he had initially assumed.
This was the limit of what he could gather from following the pair. Any closer, and he risked being spotted.
Samuel's mind was already racing, piecing together ways to turn this situation to his advantage. A civilization meant structure—laws, economy, politics. And where there was an economy, there was diversity. What kind of diversity? That was something he would need to uncover in time.
But before any of that, he needed clothing. Without it, there was no way he could enter unnoticed. A naked stranger walking into their city would immediately set off alarms, no matter how he tried to present himself. And even if he could communicate, how could he possibly explain his appearance? His unnatural skin tone, his sharp features—without the right context, he was more likely to be seen as a monster than a man.
From what little he knew of civilizations at this stage, superstition likely played a significant role in their beliefs. Anything unfamiliar could be met with fear, hostility, or worse—violent rejection. If they believed in curses or omens, his arrival as some strange, half-clothed outsider could turn the entire city against him before he even had a chance to speak.
But once he had a way in, his appearance could just as easily be turned into an asset. His slightly shorter height compared to the locals, combined with his youthful features, could allow him to play the part of someone in need—an outsider, yes, but perhaps a lost or abandoned one rather than a threat. People were more likely to trust, or at least tolerate, someone they viewed as vulnerable rather than dangerous. He could work with that.
First, though, he needed to find something to wear—something that would help him blend in just enough to avoid immediate suspicion. Then, and only then, could he focus on getting inside.
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A.N. Hey guys this is the last chapter I can post for a while. Obviously can't say if I'm going today or tomorrow for security reasons, but I'm leaving soon. So, I hope that's enough for now. Hopefully there's internet where I'm going lmao. Have a good time guys, Cheers!