In the heart of a dense forest, a young boy found himself trapped in the mists of a nightmare. He awoke gasping for air, his mind racing as he clutched at the remnants of a dream that felt hauntingly real.
A great voice echoed through the trees, breaking the silence: "You have entered the first challenge. Rules: no stealing. Disobeying this will result in elimination. Goal: survive."
"What! Where am I? I can't remember my name! Wait, did I even have one?" Panic surged through him as fragmented scenes flashed in his mind. but the details were shrouded in fog.
Minutes passed as he struggled to push the nightmare into the recesses of his mind. Finally, he stood up. As he scanned his surroundings, he realized he was in a vast forest—this must be the beginning of the 1st challenge.
His gaze caught something moving across a river. A deer stood there, its innocent eyes wide with fear. Suddenly, it bolted, startled by an unseen presence. Watching it flee, he felt a flicker of recognition, as if dust were being cleared from a forgotten page of his life. "I remember what people called me... it was B. Just B. That's what the people at the guild used to call me. But what happened?
As memories flooded back, he fell to one knee, a wave of pain and fear washing over him. He pressed his hand against half of his face, checking for bleeding. When he looked back at his reflection in the river, he saw nothing but the water's surface staring back at him. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he stood once more. "so this is a trial" what's the goal. it is to survive. kinda obvious don't you think... and there's a rule?" I know this but, I don't remember someone telling me.
he began to construct a makeshift campsite. He did not want to attract attention by lighting a fire just yet, but he needed visibility to use his advantages. B made a towel-like cloth and a woven blanket out of leaves and vines.
He worked quietly, gathering dry branches and twigs, his heart racing as he contemplated the challenges ahead. Without a weapon, he felt vulnerable, but he was determined to adapt and survive in these worlds.
He awoke to what he guessed was morning. Looking down, he took stock of his surroundings, untied the harness, and slid down the tree. Hunger gnawing at him, he retraced his steps to the river. He broke off a tree limb, sharpening it into a makeshift spear. Crouching silently on a rock, he watched the water, waiting. Spotting a fish, he jabbed the spear into the river, impaling it. He grabbed two oddly shaped rocks and returned to his camp. Using the rocks, he started a fire, then placed two sticks on either side of the flames. He skewered the fish and rested it on the sticks above the fire, then climbed back into the tree, his sharpened stick in hand, to watch and recall.
Forty minutes crawled by before the sound of snapping branches shattered the silence. An eight-foot, bear-like monster lumbered into view, its eyes hollow. The long-clawed creature crushed saplings underfoot as it stopped and waited. After what felt like hours, it turned its head toward a deer. With a swift, brutal strike, it plunged a massive claw into the deer's lungs, tearing through flesh and bone.
B, watching from above, feared he would be next. He had hoped to identify the threats of the trial, but this creature exceeded his expectations. The monster turned its crow-like head toward the burning fish. It swiped at the ground, scattering the fire and the charred meat. Then, it tilted its head, sensing something.
A shadow fell as B dropped from the tree, launching himself at the monster. He thrust the homemade spear toward the creature's hollow eyes. The spear pierced one eye, then snapped. B plunged the broken half into the other eye and released his grip. The monster swiped at him, but missed.
B crashed to the ground, bracing for pain that never came. He leaped to his feet, yelling, "Come here, you ugly bastard!"
He darted toward a tree as the monster lunged. Its claws raked the tree, peeling back and breaking with sickening cracks. B stood behind the tree, then dropped to the ground, snatching a fallen claw. The monster, half-embedded in the tree, roared in pain. B charged, plunging the claw into the monster's ankle. The creature turned its gaze upon him.
B ran, the monster slashing wildly, missing each time. B spun around, raising the broken claw in a desperate block. The monster's strike tore through his forearm muscles, sending the claw flying. Strangely, B felt nothing. Pain had always been his companion, but now it was as if it had abandoned him. Yet, fear and adrenaline surged, keeping him alive. He grabbed a rock mid charge, leaping onto the monster's arm. In mid-air, he slammed the rock against its skull. The echoing crack reverberated through the forest as the beast collapsed in a spasm.
B lay on his back, staring up through the web of branches above him. The sky swayed as if it were breathing. Blood soaked into the dirt beneath his arm, warm at first… then cooling. He waited for the pain to come. It didn't. He flexed his fingers slowly. They obeyed. The torn flesh in his forearm hung open, pale muscle visible beneath shredded skin. He should have been screaming. Instead, his breath came steady—too steady—as if his body had decided this damage was irrelevant. "Why…" His voice cracked. "Why don't I feel it?" The forest offered no answer. The clawed monster lay twisted nearby, its massive body twitching once before going still. Its hollow eyes stared blindly into nothing, just as empty in death as they had been in life.
B dragged himself backward, until his spine pressed against a fallen limb. He pulled it over himself.
He laughed once. It slipped out of him before he could stop it. That was when a great voice returned. "You have slain a 1-star clawed monster."
"You have gained 1 star." For a moment, nothing happened. Then something shifted inside him.