Forly was in a cell, with worn, unpolished stone walls, smelling of moss, corpses, blood, and odors yet undiscovered.
Leaks of light speckled the place from all sides due to the poor construction. A thick, 4-layered metal door completed the room's environment, casting a light directly into a corner of the space. It had no furniture. The walls were filled with date markings from former prisoners. The floor had puddles of accumulated water and mixed excrement.
And there he was, Forly, our protagonist, huddled against the wall, in the embrace of the shadows, wrapped in his own thoughts, in a condition worse than a slave's, but, as he came to think, perhaps this was his dose of Real Life. Because ironically, he remembered Sunny, from a book so popular it had become school material (though he had never finished it).
This time, there would be no escape, no last-minute salvation... it was just the raw, naked reality; the fruit of his choices.
'The truth, I think, is that I'm not supposed to make it... no... I will always be destined for bad luck, for misfortune, for loneliness... I am a slave to the king, a slave to the system, a slave to the government, a slave to the ordeal... a Shadow Slave.'
...
...
PANG!
And days passed...
PANG!
No food, no human contact.
PANG!
Starvation was killing him little by little.
PANG!
He was dying... and nothing more could stop it.
PANG!
He would die his own way!
PANG!
He was bleeding from all over his body, even where he had been healed.
"DEATH! OH, DEATH! HAHAHA!! DEATH!"
PANG! PANG! PANG! PANG!
He fell. He had started by hitting the wall with his fists, but soon, madness led him to literally use his head.
His vision blurred.
His eyes were covered in red and a thin, transparent gray veil.
"deeeaaaaatttth"
His speech was gone. His legs stopped moving. His hips grew numb. His arms fell limp. His mouth turned white. Blood ran from his nose and ears. His eyes closed.
He heard the sound of something falling. And finally, everything went black.
Forly woke with his eyes half-closed.
Finally, he had achieved what he wanted. He had opened a hole in the east wall large enough to dig with his hands. But how he would do that in this state, he didn't know.
Although, all he wanted was to leave.
He tried to gather the strength to get up but his body didn't respond well. And so he remained for the entire day (or what he judged to be day or night).
He tried to move his toes; his hand; his knee. But nothing responded; and time passed...
Until finally, in the early morning of the next day, after a turbulent sleep, upon waking he managed to fully open his eye—and didn't even notice it.
He looked around. He felt the floor.
"Wait..."
He moved his feet.
"Wait. Wait. Wait!"
Forly shifted and tried to get up, but he still couldn't; too early to claim victory, (or too late?); he soon noticed that the light was infinitely more intense. When he realized, he looked behind him.
There wasn't just light, but a hole, the sea, a cliff... and an exit.
He dragged himself across the floor and approached the hole; it was about 1 meter off the ground. With great difficulty, Forly propped himself up on the stone below and put his head out. Bits of rock broke away and rolled down.
The sea, thunderous and imposing, beautified the view. The pleasant breeze carried the scent of flowers in the air and took him, even for a moment, out of the world he had gotten himself into.
"Fortunately, I don't have a problem with vertigo..."
He breathed in as much air as he could and went back inside. The hunger was becoming increasingly worse.
Now, all he needed was to figure out how to get out—and finally, by 'figure out,' I mean, use the system properly. Before, he hadn't known how to manage his strength, speed, or quick thinking; and although now was no different, a very curious factor dominated him: survival.
In these conditions, wisdom and anxiety walk hand-in-hand, skipping along the beach (Forly's words, not mine, I swear).
He summoned the stones/runes, and here is what he had:
++SPONSORED SYSTEM++
| HOME | MIDDLE SIMULATION | ABOUT |
(*pending evolution) --> [allow evolution]
QUICK USE [ EXPAND ↓ ]
Forly clicked on allow evolution.
The stones shattered and rebuilt themselves into a new menu.
| ABOUT | MIDDLE SIMULATION | HOME |
Strength (ACTIVATED | PASSIVE) ---> 2x
Agility (ACTIVATED | PASSIVE)---> 2x
Intelligence (ACTIVATED | PASSIVE)---> 2x
Survival (ACTIVATED | ACTIVE)---> 2x [evolve to 2.2x]
He clicked on evolve. He waited, and waited.
Nothing happened.
He didn't feel different. Then he remembered a small detail; this skill is for Active use, meaning, he has to choose to use it, and force the thought.
QUICK USE [ EXPAND ↓ ]
Survival [use]
The instant Forly pressed the stone slab, he felt a strange tingling in his hair; his hands began to tremble; his heart accelerated; his veins trembled.
'Adrenaline? An adrenaline skill! That's it! This is what I needed!'
Forly jumped up and hurried to squeeze through the stone. He arched his back down, and started first with his left foot; then the right, and...
Oops... Too high!
Forly blindly searched, feeling with his feet until he found small points of rock. Then, he slowly passed his torso through.
He got a little further. And again. A little more. And he was happy, but also sad... Ah! Yes, I forgot to tell you that he fell right after that, too.
.
.
.
.
SPLASH!!!
He dove headfirst, raising a small mass of water when he hit. It seemed he wouldn't be able to return to the surface, but the adrenaline (literally) allowed him to ascend as quickly as possible.
From the water emerges a poor young man, panting intensely. His breathing is heavy, his fear is gone, his life has changed; he was no longer the same as always. He was filled with hatred and wanted revenge—but more than that, he desired to understand the king's motives, and who else was involved.
"Now it's personal!"
Forly leaned on a rock on the cliffside and began, he breathed in as much of the clean air as he could, checked the direction of the Moon and stars, and tried to find a path to swim to the surface. He remembered there was a port to the south of the castle.
He swam east until he was clear of the walls, and then headed south.
...
Finally, after almost an hour of swimming, he spotted the port far ahead. Now, it would be a true test of survival. And adrenaline wouldn't be the deus ex machina this time—or at least not for 24 hours, as the system would later say.
He took another deep breath and dove deep. And he had a clear plan in mind.
Not before an object surprisingly fell in front of him.
...
Meanwhile, some barrels seemed to be being thrown into the sea. Henry Bergman and Walter Milles were on the deck of the nearest boat, alone, throwing trash into the sea.
Henry, a fat man with an exaggeratedly protruding belly, a short beard, bald—except for a few strands of hair—and with a common sailor's enthusiasm, was chattering away with the kingdom's 'news'.
"Boy, Walter! I'm tellin' ya. That Thatcher kid is somethin' else! Disappearin' after tryin' to kill the king is complicated, pal."
Henry threw a barrel into the sea, way too high. "HAHAHA! That was a long one, pal! But yeah... that kid tried to kill th' king, and then just took off like it was nothin'; he's been missin' till now, right? I don't think hardly anyone's seen the boy, 'cept for the king's folk... the rich folk..."
"Yeah..."
"Larry keeps sayin' it's a lie, and that th' king must've killed him. Johann says the kid's locked up."
"Yeah..."
"Hey! Yo, pal! I'm talkin' to ya, pal!"
"Henry... pal? Who's that over there?"
"Huh, pal? That one? Never seen him before..."
A young man was floating and shouting at them, looking at Henry.
"Boss, I think I hit my head."