I walked, and waited.
Every minute that passed felt like hours. The sharp pain in my torso kept me grounded—a constant reminder that if I let myself sleep, I wouldn't wake up. The rain had eased to a drizzle, but the cold still sank into my bones.
Neo's display hovered faintly before my eyes, flickering with progress bars and pulsing blue symbols. It had been almost ten minutes since the update began. I found myself silently begging whatever higher power still existed that the system wouldn't crash.
Finally, a soft chime cut through the rain.
UPDATE COMPLETE.
NEW MAP GENERATING…
Neo's voice followed, clear and sterile as ever. "Generating world layout. Please remain stationary during the process."
A blank screen filled my vision, three dots blinking like a heartbeat. Then everything went black.
The forest vanished. The ground beneath me dissolved. And all that remained were orbs.
Tiny, glowing spheres of every imaginable color surrounded me—hundreds, thousands, maybe millions—drifting like dust motes in a beam of light. Some were faint, others pulsed with life, vibrant and erratic. They moved in invisible currents, swirling around invisible structures. The air itself shimmered.
My breath caught in my throat.
These were mana particles. Unfiltered. Unbound.
Each one represented the foundation of matter—the smallest form of life, smaller than quarks, smaller than even the idea of existence. For a moment, I could see them the way the universe must: pure identity, pure purpose.
The sight was… overwhelming.
A sharp pain formed behind my eyes. The world tilted, and my stomach churned. I stumbled forward, clutching at my head. The colors bled together—violet bleeding into green, blue into red—until I couldn't tell where one particle ended and another began.
Then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone.
My vision snapped back to normal. The fog returned, the wet soil beneath my feet, the gray of the trees heavy with rain. I blinked hard, breathing fast.
"What the hell was that?" I demanded. "Neo, what did you just do? Did something attack me?"
Neo's response came . "It was nothing harmful. I was utilizing your mana detection ability to establish topographical boundaries. I required environmental mana density to determine continental edges."
I stared into the fading projection. "You did what?"
"In simple terms," Neo said, pausing for what I assumed was dramatic effect, "I used the distribution of mana particles to map the continent's terrain. Denser areas typically indicate landmass; sparse regions indicate water or uninhabitable zones."
"You mapped an entire continent," I said flatly. "Just like that? Does this mean I can see everything on it?"
Neo hesitated. "No. That would be improbable."
"Then what the hell did you do?"
"I have generated a basic approximation," it replied, voice clinical, clipped. "I cannot replicate full global detail in fifteen minutes. The remaining data must be mapped manually."
The holographic screen flashed again, and the map materialized in front of me.
It was… massive.
Neo's tone almost carried a hint of pride as it presented its work. "Approximate world-scale visualization complete."
I frowned, tracing my finger through the glowing lines of land and ocean. It turned out I hadn't been walking straight at all—I'd gone diagonally from the lab's original location. Most of the terrain was blank, uncharted, and the shape of the continent itself was foreign. It didn't resemble America or any known continent from before the collapse.
In fact, it looked disturbingly like Pangaea—one single landmass fractured by a massive wound at its center. The gash split the world nearly in half, like the planet itself had been ripped apart and roughly glued back together.
My throat went dry. "What… happened here?" I whispered.
Neo didn't answer. Instead, a series of small colored dots appeared across the map—some bright green, others white, one glowing red.
"What are those?" I asked.
Neo responded almost immediately. "Indicators of biological entities detected through mana resonance. Green markers denote passive organisms; white markers indicate neutral organisms—likely to defend only if threatened. Red markers represent active predators with hostile tendencies."
I focused on the red one. It wasn't far. In fact… it was too close.
"Neo," I said slowly, "that red dot… how far away is it?"
Neo paused, and when it spoke again, the tone was almost apologetic. "Approximately six meters. Behind you."
Every muscle in my body locked. My heart slammed against my ribs.
It had been following me.
I forced myself not to turn around immediately, keeping my movements casual as my brain scrambled for a plan.
Okay. Think.
If I moved too fast, it would strike. If I hesitated too long, it would, too. I could form a weapon—an amethyst shard maybe—but no. That wouldn't work. Amethyst (SiO₂) was brittle and useless against dense organic matter. I needed something tougher—iron (Fe). But I'd never tried forming it before. I didn't even know if I could.
My fingers twitched as I began gathering stray mana particles from the air, subtly coaxing them toward me.
And that's when the shadow moved.
I spun around just as a long vine shot through the fog, spearing the ground where I had been standing seconds earlier. It hissed as it retracted, and from the mist emerged something that made my stomach twist.
It was alive.
The creature was humanoid only in the vaguest sense—a rough shape draped in writhing vines. Its torso pulsed with veins of deep green chlorophyll and glistening black sap. The vines weren't smooth; they were covered in jagged thorns that gleamed wetly under the dim light. Along the tips of several vines, patches of red fungus glowed faintly—blood-red and pulsing, as though feeding on its prey's remains.
Its head—or what passed for one—was a tangle of vines wound tightly into a spherical mass, with a gaping hollow in the center. Inside, something glimmered faintly—like an eye made of amber sap, unblinking and ancient.
The thing leaned forward, and the ground rippled where its roots dug in. The smell hit me next—a mix of rot, wet leaves, and iron. Blood.
Neo's voice echoed faintly in my ear. "Hostile identified: classification unknown. Recommendation—retreat."
I didn't need the advice. I was already moving.
The creature struck again, two vines lashing out like whips. I ducked, one slicing through the air where my head had been. Another caught my arm, tearing through my already-wet sleeve and slicing my skin open. The pain burned white-hot.
I stumbled back, slipping in the mud. The creature advanced, vines coiling, tightening, forming something like limbs.
The creature lunged again, and I rolled to the side, my hands instinctively grasping for stray mana. My vision flickered faintly with color again as I drew in particles from the air—oxygen (O₂), carbon dioxide (CO₂), and nitrogen (N₂). Not enough to form a weapon, but maybe… maybe enough to create friction.
My mind raced.
If I altered the molecular bonds of the surrounding oxygen—no, that would ignite everything, including me.
The monster's vines slammed down again, inches from my face. The ground cracked.
I needed to act fast.