The domed structure was where I'd noted it on my maps. It looked pretty much the same as when I left it—in ruins. The only obvious opening was the cave-in where the dome's ceiling had collapsed. Climbing down the colossal tree protruding out of it would be my entry point. Fear and excitement churned in my gut, a very odd combination that reminded me of playing Silent Hill and Fatal Frame late at night. This was my first "in-game" experience of this world that wasn't about simply surviving, sneaking, or running away. This time, I was doing the exploration just for the fun of it. Rather than whining, I figured I might as well enjoy it. YOLO!
I reached the top after traversing its weathered architectural features, noting how the intricate carvings, even faded by ages, still held a certain grandeur. Surprisingly, the tree that plunged into the abyss was truly colossal, a giant rooted in the earth, with many sturdy stubs and thick branches that I used like a ladder to descend. I unwrapped my glow stone from its cloth covering and hung it on my chest like an amulet, which I'd tied on the night before to serve as my flashlight. I adjusted the cloth cover so that the glow from my newfound amulet wouldn't hit my face, limiting my own sight. Yep, it doesn't look pretty, but it works.
It was eerily quiet inside. Only my careful climbing generated sounds, each scuff of my shoe, each faint groan of the tree, echoing in the vast silence. My eyes adjusted to the deepening darkness as I descended. This place looked much bigger than it appeared from the outside. Much bigger. I had thought it would be easy to explore, a quick in and out, but I realized I'd bitten off more than I could chew this time. I finally stepped off a branch onto the top floor, but the tree kept going down, its immense trunk snaking into the deeper levels below. From the top of the dome down to this top floor was around 20-30 feet, I thought. Good thing the tree was wide enough for me to climb comfortably.
I looked around. This floor had huge doorways that were easily 20 feet high, suggesting this was built for someone much, much larger than me. The walls showed clear signs of burning, darkened and torn down in sections. An explosion, maybe? That would fit the general vibe: This whole section looked like a boss fight went horribly wrong, leaving everything in pieces. I picked a direction and entered a room southwest from the main tree shaft. Inside, I saw huge tables that could easily be the size of my house back home, if it were still in one piece. There was also a half-charred wooden chair and a bed—obviously in pieces. Though desecrated, the designs of these gigantic furniture pieces were incredibly intricate, with vine-like engravings and symbols of stars or maybe a sun sprinkled in the background. The fine details were flawless, making them look 3-D printed even a million years later, almost impossibly perfect if handmade. As I walked carefully through the debris, my sword now untied from my back and held ready, I noticed scattered bones near the broken furniture. My mind immediately recalled the critters from the Kiko-sized ruins—Marauder Cockroaches. This place definitely seemed like their kind of habitat. I picked up a femur from the ground and tossed it at the broken table, hoping to draw them out. The bone hit with an echoing thump.
Sure enough, a moment later, five Marauder Cockroaches scurried out, their hard bodies skittering to the sound, antennae twitching as they zeroed in on the bone.
General Awareness: Marauder Cockroach - Description: Cockroach the size of a Chihuahua, aggressive, and it has a small clamp on its head like a rhinoceros beetle. - Combat Tactic: Overwhelm with numbers, clamp prey to hold it in place while others consume.
A strangled sound caught in my throat as a wave of revulsion sent tremors through my body. I dashed towards them. Two immediately flew towards me, zigzagging erratically in the confined space. I swung vertically with my sword, catching the first one mid-air and cutting it clean in half. Its contents splashed onto the ground with a squelching sound. Ewww. Then I followed up with a quick thrust that hit the second one, piercing its body with a sickening crunch. I kicked the critter off my sword, sending it bouncing and then skidded yuckily towards the three remaining cockroaches. The three survivors didn't hesitate. They immediately began to devour their fallen comrade. "Disgusting," I muttered. I remembered that a lot of species cannibalize their own kind if resources are scarce. The same was true here in this world, apparently. I didn't let the chance slip. I attacked them while they were busy devouring their comrade, its sticky feet still flailing around.
I cleaned my sword with dried leaves lying on the ground, wiping off the last vestiges of cockroach guts.
I went into every room on this floor, but I found nothing of value beyond broken furniture, holes in the walls, and more Marauder Cockroaches. These I used as test dummies, perfecting my side-step strikes and practicing my sword handling. Time to go down, I decided. I went back to the giant tree, took out some berries and a peach-mango from my trusty satchel, and drank from my wooden canteen. I made the canteen from a piece of zagboo—a type of bamboo that grows naturally zigzagged, not straight. I'd found it while exploring the surroundings of my shack, cut it with my increasingly sharpened kitchen knife, and made a resealable container. It leaks, of course, because I'm not the best artisan around, but hey, it works. After some time munching and resting, I decided to descend to the lower floor. It was even darker than the floor above, which still received some faint light filtering from the huge hole in the dome above. My glow stone amulet, now my trusty flashlight, faintly illuminated the darkness below.