The world seemed to slow down. Its claws aimed at my spine, the slow-motion unfurling of its acid-laced snout, about to land. But instead of agony, there was a sound like a truck hitting a brick wall. A second Direwolf Lizard, a blur of brown and grey, had shot out from the trees and intercepted the first one in mid-air. The two exploded into a whirlwind of claws, teeth, and rage, fighting over the right to eat me.
I didn't stick around for the winner. I spotted a crack in the colossal wall—just wide enough for me—and squeezed in. Claws scraped stone behind me. Acid spit hissed against the rock, eating into it like it was made of sugar.
"Note to self," I gasped, "next time, pick 'Easy Mode.'"
The crevice spat me out into a clearing dominated by towering statues—giant dwarves like those from World of Warcraft, but scaled up to gargantuan size, with braided beards and stone axes the size of cars. Some of these colossal figures were buried partially, broken into pieces, or swallowed by dense vegetation. The sheer scale was epic, something straight out of the most beautifully rendered RPGs I'd ever played. This place was truly magnificent, like stepping into a high-budget fantasy world. Part of me, the gamer part, was awestruck and wanted to explore every detail, find every secret. But the other part, the very-much-alive part, screamed about the immediate, terrifying danger of being monster chow.
The moment of awe was shattered by a low, powerful grunt that vibrated through the soles of my shoes. My eyes darted downwards. Below the statues, a family of bizarre rhino-armadillo hybrids had stopped grazing to stare at me.
Heightened Awareness: Rhynodillo - Danger Category: Threat - Status: Preparing to Agro
The big male snorted, sizing me up like he was saying I'm eating my French fries, do you mind? He began to bow his massive head, scratching at the ground with his armored front legs in clear threat display, preparing to charge.
I raised my hands and started slowly walking backward. "Nice… uh, armor. Very stylish. I'll see myself out."
Miraculously, he snorted and went back to chewing grass like nothing happened.
I was relieved. This world was completely unknown, and the idea that the Direwolf Lizard might pounce anytime—Gotcha!—was not a distant thought. I needed to survive. What are the most successful hunters in the wild? Big, furry cats come to mind. What do they have in common? A tv show segment in my memory answered: Stealth.
"Alright," I muttered to myself. "Ninja mode on." I immediately dropped to a low prowl, sneaking to the nearest tree. My eyes darted left to right, scanned the undergrowth. I tried to roll but stumbled, immediately crawled back to the nearest bush. Tiptoeing forward, I then slammed my back to another tree, sliding out of view. While doing so, a flock of Coocoos (angry-bird looking birds, with teeth protruding out their beaks, with big black beady eyes) shifted, refocusing and looking at me in confusion. Every rustle of leaves or snap of a twig sent my pulse racing.
A prompt popped up: Basic Sneak Learned
"Yeah," I said sarcastically, "I was doing that for some time now. Mr. Obvious."
As the sun dipped, casting long shadows, and hours of embarrassing hours of slapstick stealth sequences, I stumbled upon a shack located under a tree root that looked like it had been abandoned since the dawn of time. Its walls, made of rough-hewn planks, showed varying stages of decay, some reduced to crumbling dust, others still solid, scarred by countless seasons. The door was hanging by a thread.
"Hello?" I called out, not wanting to be impolite. When no answer came, I carefully pushed the creaking door open with my foot, wincing at the protesting squeal of rusted hinges.
Satisfied the place was deserted, I barricaded it with a rotting cabinet that crumbled a little in protest.
Inside, I struck gold:
A peculiar, rough-hewn rock, resting innocently on what remained of a shattered wooden table. As I drew closer, a faint, soft yellow light emanated from within it, illuminating about 3 meters around the table. "Huh, amazing," I whispered. Then, driven by pure scientific curiosity (and maybe a touch of delusion), I ducked and hid below the table, its glow off. I popped my head up—light! I ducked down—dark! Up again—light! Down again—dark! Back and forth I went, a human Jack-in-the-box, utterly astonished. I started testing it with objects: a broken piece of pottery (nothing), a splintered plank (nothing). Then I held out my hand, slowly, and poof, it glowed. My conclusion, reached after minutes of frantic experimentation: it's like a motion sensor light, but instead of a light bulb; and instead of movement, it lights up when biological matter comes closer. Highly logical.
General Awareness: Glow Rock - Description: Lights up when a meat sack comes close to it.
A hand-drawn map on yellowed parchment, its edges frayed like it had been folded and refolded a hundred times. The ink was faded in places, and some landmarks are clearly guesses rather than actual surveys. Accuracy: Less than 50%. Last updated: Probably during the age of dinosaurs. Still, a map was a map—better than wandering blind. As I traced a finger along a jagged line, a string of foreign symbols appeared, then slowly shimmered and reconfigured into something I could read: "Giant's Labyrinth." Immediately after, a prompt materialized at the corner of my vision:
Current Location Updated: Giant's Labyrinth
A knife the size of my forearm, rusted and crusted with age.
Giant Rusty Kitchen Knife - Damage: Decent (if the tetanus don't get you first). - Durability: "Handle with care. Or prayer." - Aesthetic: "Post-apocalyptic survivalist."
I tried to make sense of everything that had happened, of my current, impossible location, but my brain felt like static. The sheer exhaustion was overwhelming, pulling at my eyelids like lead weights. I slumped against the wall, muscles protesting. Stomach growling. For a second, I swore I smelled my mom's adobo—garlic, soy sauce, bay leaves simmering for hours. My mouth watered.
Then reality crashed back. No adobo. No mom. Just me, a knife, and a world that seemed determined to kill me in creative ways.
I tightened my grip on the blade. "Alright, you overgrown lizard. Let's see what tomorrow brings."
And with that optimistic thought, I passed out cold.