springfallendeer

[springfallendeer]

The RPG Experience (An Isekai AU) - 02 - New World, New Day

The 2nd segment of "The RPG Experience". Continuation from where we left off. Slightly shorter at only 4.7k.

First part here.

Night passes.

You sleep. The warmth of the tea in your stomach is there to help you settle, at least initially. Then, once you’re resting, the comforting weight of a blanket is added on top to assure that you will not wake before the sunrise.

The process of rebirth is, apparently, exhausting. So much so that you manage to sleep throughout the night and into the early morning.

Even then, you do not actually wake of your own accord. It is Ayala who coaxes you from slumber by shaking you by your shoulder. And once you open your eyes, you find that the sky is bright with sunlight.

The sunrise has long since passed and gone is the glorious rainbow of colors that would have been brought along with it.

You slept through your first night only to miss your first sunrise. Which is disappointing, in a way. Even if you can be left reassured of the fact that there will be many more sunrises to come.

“Sleep well~?” Ayala asks once she’s managed to coax you onto your feet.

Your stomach answers before you can. A loud, gurgling sound emanates from your torso; reminding the both of you that you have not eaten in at least a day.

Admittedly a bit embarrassed, you reach up to cover your abdomen with your hands.

“I’ll take that as a yes~” She comments, having obviously heard the loud noise that your stomach elected to make. “And that leads us to our next step of getting you settled in~” She adds.

You watch, briefly confused, as she casually picks up her heavy looking travel pack to sling it over her shoulders.

Then, you recall something that she said yesterday.

This world functions a lot like a video game. Which don’t exist here. She only knows about them because other people who have been in your situation have described them to her.

If her statements are actually accurate, then that would mean that you’re more or less in your tutorial stage. The point in most games where someone or something comes along to walk you through the core mechanics of the game so that you will know how to play.

Ayala is your tutorial. Your guide. The one responsible for making sure that you understand the inner workings of this world.

And if she is doing her job, then that would mean that her next task is to teach you about food. Likely in relation to how to obtain the raw ingredients that you will need to keep your stomach full while you explore and eventually gain access to more advanced cooking techniques.

“Food?” You ask.

“Foraging, to be specific.” Ayala replies, before she lets out a little laugh. “I take it you’re familiar with video game mechanics?” She then asks.

“Yeah, for the most part.” You respond.

You can hear her audibly hum to herself as she offers a little nod.

“Well. That’s good~... Because I don’t. But I’ve been told that this whole process is set up like that. So you’ll at least have an idea for what to expect, from here on out.” She states, her tone still casual though you do catch the uncertainty in it.

Must be hard, to have to compare your actions to something that you have never experienced. All the while you must hope that the person you’re talking to actually understands the reference. Particularly when you are not even certain as to whether or not the reference that you’re making is accurate.

“That being said-” She then hums as she raises a hand to motion for you to follow after her. “This is not a game.” She states.

The sudden shift in her tone is more than enough to make a chill run up your spine.

She went from casual, and almost playful; to completely stern and serious in the time that it took you to take a step.

“The games of your world make light of what can happen in this one.” She adds as she begins to walk. And you follow after her. “I’m not going to hold your hand and protect you from every little threat. You don’t get to encounter creatures that you’re guaranteed to be able to fight, just because you’re new. If you get cut, you bleed. And if you bleed, you can die.” She explains, all the while she slowly guides you from where you woke up to where she has decided that you need to be; which is on a path.

She guides you from an isolated location where it is obvious that people do not regularly travel, to an area that gets a lot of foot traffic. Likely to make it easier to explore the area.

Or maybe she just needs the road to figure out where exactly she is on the map…

“The games of your world borrow ideas from the reality of ours.” She adds as she looks up one side of the road, before turning to look down another. “... Things do not reset if you mess something up. Every action has a consequence. Positive or negative. Every fight that you pick could be your last. Any injuries you suffer may very well cripple you. You have a new body. Whether it's better than your last one doesn’t matter. It can be destroyed, all the same.” She further explains, before pausing for a moment to think.

You wait while she figures out what she wants to do. Whether it is pick her words or decide which direction that you should be led. Then when she starts to walk, you follow after her before she needs to raise a hand to motion for you to do so.

“And the people here will not delight in your arrival.” She eventually adds as she begins to lead you off of the road and down what seems to be a frequently used, but somewhat hidden path that leads you down a slope into the surrounding wilderness. One that takes you away from the clearing and into the nearby woodlands. “There is no prophecy to name you as our chosen savior. You will be perceived more as a dark omen. As a threat to the way of life that has already been established. The people will fear you. Many will avoid you. Many still will want to cut you down or deter you while you are still inexperienced and weak. All to prevent you from reaching a point where you can become the threat that you are welcome to become.” She states, all the while you pay careful attention so that you can soak in all of the information that she has elected to give you.

“Why would I be a threat?” You ask as you follow after her, carefully following her down the path as it begins to take you down a rocky ledge.

“Because you’re different.” Ayala replies, before suddenly pausing.

You watch as she silently looks around. Then you tilt your head somewhat as she takes the time to look at you.

“You aren’t like the people here. You don’t get bound to the same rules.” She states, seemingly having decided that just pointing out that you were different wasn’t good enough. Particularly when you wouldn’t know the full context of what she meant. “In this world, what a person can become depends upon the circumstances of their birth.” She says as she resumes the careful descent down the ledge. “If your mother is a baker and your father is a blacksmith, then you will already have all of the skills you need to take up either profession. You will be born and as soon as you can walk, you will know how to bake a loaf of bread or forge a sword. But if you aspire to become something beyond that, then what awaits you will be a tedious life where you must dedicate years, maybe even decades, to becoming something that is not in your blood.” She explains, electing to give you some examples so that you will be able to better understand what it is that she is trying to describe.

She pauses again once at the bottom of the slope. Then she glances up at you and motions for you to just hop down.

You follow her instructions, only to admittedly land a little harder than you’d like.

Then you glance back up.

Getting down here wasn’t too hard. But if she expects you to go back up that way, then there might be a problem… Not that you’ll be bringing that up just yet.

“What if my grandmother was a painter?” You ask, uttering the first question that pops into your head.

If abilities are determined by the profession of your ancestors, will the line be cut off at the parents? Or does your entire direct lineage influence things?

“Then how much effort you’ll need to put into learning will be greatly reduced.” Ayala replies as she reaches behind her into her pack.

She pulls out what you swear is a wand. Like what a wizard would use.

But instead of casting any spells, she just leans down to start drawing something in the dirt. A series of lines that intersect, with little shapes like circles and x’s beneath.

A family tree.

She’s drawing a family tree.

“The closer that a profession is to you, the easier you can master it.” She states, pointing first to the bottom two tiers of the tree; which would theoretically be you and your parents.

Then she points up to the line that would symbolize your grandparents.

“What would take others years, you would be able to learn in as little as a year, if you aspired to follow the footsteps of a grandparent. If that grandparent did not partake in the same profession of your mother or father.” She explains, before motioning up to the line that would symbolize your great-grandparents. “Increase that time by half, for a great grandparent. A year and a half.” She states, before then pointing up to the great-great grandparent line. “And then by that time and another half, by there, to bring you to two years and some months.” She states, before then pointing up to the next tier. The generation that would have brought your great-great grandparents into the world. “The further back you go, the more time that it would take. Amounting to the time that it would take based upon the next closest generation, plus half of that. Going on and on until the time that it would take you to learn it would make having it in your blood almost a moot point, because you’re taking as much time as anyone else might. But never reaching a point where you would have to take longer than someone who has no blood relation to the profession.” She explains, before taking her wand and putting it away.

As far as she is concerned, she has given you more than enough of an explanation. Plus a visual example to help you understand everything that she has said.

“You, however, are not bound by this rule.” She states. “You have not been born here. You were sent here. In a body that merely needed to be reminded of what it should be. You have no blood to define what you can become. And for some reason, when that happens, then you are free to become anything that you want.” She explains.

“Anything?! Just like that?!” You ask, naturally flabbergasted to have been told this.

“Well. Not quite.” Ayala sighs. “You will still need to learn. These skills and abilities are not immediately yours for the taking. But you will learn incredibly fast. Only those who directly follow a profession from their parents will outpace you in your ability to take up a talent. But depending on your personal detriments and buffs, you may be slower than someone who has aspired to take up their great-grandparent’s profession.” She explains.

In other words. You have arrived in this place and you literally have the ability to become whatever you want in less time that it would take most people to follow their dreams. Which could explain why you might be considered a threat, no matter how you go about things.

You are competition. The ultimate competition, at that. Someone who can just turn up and decide to be whatever they want.

Why that would mean that people will want to kill you over it, you have no idea. But Ayala may very well explain that matter to you in the near future.

“Are all skills determined by blood?” You ask. To which Ayala immediately shakes her head.

“No. There are universal skills, which all humans can access by default. But anything relating to a profession is locked behind either blood or years of training.” She states, before reaching up to tap the side of her head. Right behind her left eye. “Anyways. Next lesson! Let's try to make it quick, since you don’t get to eat till after it's done.” She states, abruptly changing the subject. Likely because she’s tired of explaining everything. Or maybe she just thinks that you need more time to digest what you’ve been told. “Pull up your user profile.” She requests.

You, naturally, stand there and stare at her with a deadpan look of confusion. Because you have no idea how to do that.

That confusion turns into mild annoyance when Ayala laughs at you.

“Alright. Let’s hope you don’t get grumpy when you’re hungry~” She muses, before she steps closer to you.

She then reaches up to touch you on the side of the head. Right behind your left eye. The same spot that she touched herself.

“You tap here and focus. Focus on yourself. Then you should be able to see all of the information that you need, in regards to your current status and abilities.” She instructs.

Given your lack of better options or a more thorough explanation, you do as she says.

Which, ultimately, doesn’t amount to much. Tapping on the side of your head has never done anything magical for you before, and given your inexperience, it doesn’t do anything for you now.

This is the “learning to speak through loud inner thoughts” process all over again. Only this time you have hunger gnawing at your insides and a distinct understanding that the longer you take to figure this out, the worse you’re going to feel.

You tap your head again. And again, nothing happens. Which, Ayala can apparently tell.

“Don’t forget to focus.” She reminds you.

Her smile hasn’t exactly faded but, you can tell that it is one of those “I feel bad for you” sort of smiles. Which doesn’t really do anything to help with your lack of ability to immediately do as she is instructing.

A frustrated sigh escapes you as you stare at her.

“Do I really need to figure this out now?” You ask.

Unfortunately, you are getting frustrated. You’re hungry and were under the assumption that Ayala was leading you all the way out here so that you could find something to eat.

“Unless you want to aimlessly walk around looking for something that might be edible, yes.” Ayala replies with a little sigh.

“Excuse me?” You respond, giving her a skeptical look.

“Look-” She sighs as she turns around to look out into the woodland surrounding you. “This patch of forest is full of edible forage. But until you invest a skill point into the foraging skill tree, you won’t be able to see any of it. Not unless you wind up right on top of it. And you won’t be able to discern common edibles from their common toxic look-alikes at all unless you’ve got the foraging skill unlocked.” She explains.

As she does, she steps away from you to approach a nearby tree.

You watch as she bends over and reaches down to pick something up.

Something that you cannot even see, despite it clearly being there, considering that she has grabbed it.

Once she has it, she approaches you to show off what she’s found.

Some sort of mushroom. A jelly mushroom, to be specific. With a vibrant golden hue.

It's pretty small, though. So if she were to give it to you to eat, it wouldn’t really do much.

“This, for example. We call it Witch’s Butter. Grows all over the place, out here. But you can’t see any of it. So unless you want to inspect every single tree hoping to find more and hoping that what you find instead is edible, you’ll pull up your user profile so that we can move on to the next step.” She states, showing off her foraged mushroom to sort of provide an example as to why she had suddenly elected to not show you how to forage.

Apparently she can’t. At least not until you’ve done as she asks.

Which is annoying. But oh well. There isn’t much that you can do.

You do have one last question pertaining to the matter, though.

“... Why do you call it Witch’s butter?” You ask, referring to the little yellow mushroom that she’s shown you.

“Oh. Because it tastes like butter.” Ayala replies without the slightest hint of hesitation, before laughing. “When it gets wet it gets all oily. If you eat it, it just tastes like butter. And it has the same texture as beef fat.” She explains, describing the mushroom to you.

To be honest, you aren’t sure how to feel about that. But, now the name makes sense. A mushroom that tastes like butter and has the texture of beef fat? That certainly sounds like something that a witch would conjure up.

“Anyways. Tap and focus.” She then comments, reminding you of the task at hand.

Time to lock in and see if you can actually do what she asks of you.

You reach up to tap your head once more. Just as she has instructed. And you do so under the assumption that not much of anything is going to happen as a result.

Much to your surprise, that is exactly what happens.

Again. Nothing. You tap your head near your eye and absolutely nothing happens!

Great.

You’re going to be here all day. You can tell.

So you go ahead and settle down where you stand. No reason to literally stand around all day in hopes of something miraculously changing. You may as well try to be comfortable while you repeatedly tap the side of your head like you’re trying to find some invisible switch.

Ayala doesn’t question what you’re doing. She just settles down across from you so that she can sit and wait for you to either figure it out or ask more questions.

You tap your head. Exactly where she has instructed you to tap.

Nothing happens.

You tap again. Still, nothing happens.

This becomes your reality for the next couple of hours.

The more you try, the more you fail. And the more you fail, the more irritated you get. The more your stomach begins to gnaw at you because you have gone an unbearable amount of time without eating, and for some reason, Ayala has no intention of just sharing whatever food she might happen to have with her.

Logically you know that this is just a trial by fire. If Ayala just feeds you, and you elect to just rely on her, you might never learn to do what you need to do.

Being able to pull up your User Information seems like a pretty important aspect about living in this world. So obviously she just wants you to get that sorted sooner rather than later.

Denying you food is just a means of encouragement. Even if it is incredibly irritating.

So much so that you inevitably start to focus less on what you’re trying to do and more on how you feel.

And wouldn’t you know it, that’s when something seems to happen.

Not that you can fully describe what that something is.

It reminds you of a pause screen. Like in a video game… Which makes sense, considering what Ayala has said.

There’s a diagram showing your body and your current appearance. Gear and equipment, of which you currently have none. Then of course there’s a bunch of information off to one side that seems to be describing everything about you and your current state.

The primary example there being that you can tell exactly how hungry you are by looking at a little scale off to the side. One which also monitors things like your current rest level (well rested), as well as your temperature (comfortable).

Your hunger, meanwhile, is planted firmly in the “Discomfort” range on the bar. Not anywhere near the starvation range, but you’re still pretty hungry.

You see all of this relatively clearly.

Yet at the same time, it is as if you don’t see it at all. Because you can still clearly see Ayala, as well as the wilderness that you’re currently resting in.

An overlay.

That is the best way to describe it. Your User Information appears as a sort of overlay. Something that you can see without it ever actually impeding anything that is happening around you.

Which could be useful. You wouldn’t want to go blind while trying to check your personal status. That would leave you vulnerable to all sorts of potential danger.

“I take it that you’ve figured it out~?” Ayala asks.

She’s been watching you this whole time so, she must have been able to tell when you managed to pull up your User Information. You must have made a face or something to give it away.

“Uh, yeah. I think so.” You reply, glancing at her to find that she is staring at you with a satisfied grin on her face.

“Okay, good~” She hums. “Now. I presume you’re on your status sheet. If you look to one side, you’ll find some extra information slots. One of them is your skill tree. See if you can focus well enough to pull that up.” She states, quickly giving you some instructions on what you should be doing next. “You’ll find the slots on your dominant side. So, whichever hand is the most dominant.” She adds, giving you one last tidbit of information before going quiet to wait for you to do as she has said.

Given that you’re still staring at the initial page, you can see what she’s talking about. Yep. Right off to one side there is a little slot marked “Skills”. Which is where you’ll find your skill tree.

You expect it to be difficult to progress to that step. But seeing as you’re actively looking at what you need to find, it's actually pretty easy for you to pull open your skill tree.

Which is huge.

There are easily thousands of options mapping out the whole thing. And fully zoomed out, it's almost like looking at a map of the stars. Only all of the stars are dull, because all of your skills are currently inactive.

“Okay I uh… I’m on my skill tree.” You state. “It's pretty big though.” You admit, earnestly.

“Oh, yeah. Like I said. You have access to the entire skill tree. So nothing is blacked out or beyond access.” Ayala replies in a casual, matter-of-fact way. “Don’t worry about it. Nothing at the top matters until you decide to sit down and map out how you want to apply accrued skill points. For now, you need to focus on the Survival branch. Foraging will be between Hunting and Fishing.” She explains, sort of giving you some instructions on what you need to do without ever fully getting into details as to how.

You do figure it out, though.

Turns out that just thinking about where you need to go just sort of makes the skill tree zoom in on the desired area.

Just as Ayala said, the Foraging skill is found under the Survival branch. Right along with Hunting, Fishing, and Crafting. Which all branch out towards other talents, some on their own and others connected by two points earlier on.

“... Honestly, just go ahead and drop a skill point into each of those first four. You’ll need it.” She adds after a few moments of pause.

“How many- nevermind.” You nearly ask her how many skill points you have. Then you notice the ten points that are already available.

“Yeah. Ten~” Ayala teasingly replies, answering the question that you never fully asked. “All of the options along the bottom of the tree grant you access to anything above it. And various talents can be upgraded through the use of additional skill points, to increase their strength. Everything on the bottom of the Survival branch just gives you the ability to use and access those talents. But there are specifics that you need to invest into later, if you decide.” She explains while you go about investing your skill points into the four Survival talents.

Hunting, Fishing, Foraging, and Crafting.

“Alright. Done.” You hum, letting Ayala know that you’ve finished with your assigned task.

“Okay. Good~” She replies.

You then watch her casually push herself back onto her feet.

“Now. Go ahead and close your User Information. You’ll be able to start foraging now~” She states, giving you the go-ahead to try and shift your attention back to your original task. Which is to track down something to eat.

It takes you a few moments to figure out how to actually make your User Information close so that you can see normally. And once you do, you find yourself taken aback by your sudden change in surroundings.

Just as Ayala said earlier, this part of the forest is full of foragable goods.

You can see mushrooms, ferns, flowers, and all sorts of other little plants. All of which you would like to assume are edible, though you might have some trial and error to look out for.

Your guide obviously notices your response to the sudden visual onslaught. Which coaxes a soft laugh out of her.

“As you’ve noticed. There is a lot of forage in the area.” She states as she steps aside to motion towards the expanse of wilderness found behind her. “A lot of it is edible! But, some of it isn’t. As of now, you can identify any abundant forage. You’ll be able to tell it apart from its toxic counterparts, if it has any. Anything that is less common, you won’t really be able to identify it. So try to stick to what you can identify if you don’t want to eat poison~” She explains, before turning to walk away from you. Presumably so that she can forage something for herself. “Oh! And also. Anything new, you can inspect it to learn more about it. You’ll see a red aura around dangerous things, and a blue aura around things that are safe. If the aura is yellow or orange, I’d suggest that you err on the side of caution and leave it alone.” She adds, taking the time to give you more of this much needed information before she sends you off to try and gather your own food. “Now go on, and take your time. I’ll show you how to cook whatever you find.” She concludes, before she disappears behind a tree.

At first, you assume that she’s just walked around it to start foraging. But when you make your way towards said tree to peek behind it, you find that Ayala has completely disappeared.

She can either move faster than you thought, or there is magic at play.

Either way, it would seem that you are now alone. And you’re expected to go about the business of foraging while she’s off doing whatever it is that she’s left to do.

Maybe she’s just used magic to turn invisible and now she’s waiting to see what you’ll do.

Maybe she actually left.

You don’t know.

But you do know that you’re hungry. And if what Ayala said is true, then there is plenty to eat around here. So long as you can find it.

Ergo, you must set out to find it. On the promise of being shown how to make a proper meal out of whatever raw ingredients you manage to find, when your guide returns.

[springfallendeer]

The RPG Experience (An Isekai AU) - 02 - New World, New Day

The 2nd segment of "The RPG Experience". Continuation from where we left off. Slightly shorter at only 4.7k.

First part here.

Night passes.

You sleep. The warmth of the tea in your stomach is there to help you settle, at least initially. Then, once you’re resting, the comforting weight of a blanket is added on top to assure that you will not wake before the sunrise.

The process of rebirth is, apparently, exhausting. So much so that you manage to sleep throughout the night and into the early morning.

Even then, you do not actually wake of your own accord. It is Ayala who coaxes you from slumber by shaking you by your shoulder. And once you open your eyes, you find that the sky is bright with sunlight.

The sunrise has long since passed and gone is the glorious rainbow of colors that would have been brought along with it.

You slept through your first night only to miss your first sunrise. Which is disappointing, in a way. Even if you can be left reassured of the fact that there will be many more sunrises to come.

“Sleep well~?” Ayala asks once she’s managed to coax you onto your feet.

Your stomach answers before you can. A loud, gurgling sound emanates from your torso; reminding the both of you that you have not eaten in at least a day.

Admittedly a bit embarrassed, you reach up to cover your abdomen with your hands.

“I’ll take that as a yes~” She comments, having obviously heard the loud noise that your stomach elected to make. “And that leads us to our next step of getting you settled in~” She adds.

You watch, briefly confused, as she casually picks up her heavy looking travel pack to sling it over her shoulders.

Then, you recall something that she said yesterday.

This world functions a lot like a video game. Which don’t exist here. She only knows about them because other people who have been in your situation have described them to her.

If her statements are actually accurate, then that would mean that you’re more or less in your tutorial stage. The point in most games where someone or something comes along to walk you through the core mechanics of the game so that you will know how to play.

Ayala is your tutorial. Your guide. The one responsible for making sure that you understand the inner workings of this world.

And if she is doing her job, then that would mean that her next task is to teach you about food. Likely in relation to how to obtain the raw ingredients that you will need to keep your stomach full while you explore and eventually gain access to more advanced cooking techniques.

“Food?” You ask.

“Foraging, to be specific.” Ayala replies, before she lets out a little laugh. “I take it you’re familiar with video game mechanics?” She then asks.

“Yeah, for the most part.” You respond.

You can hear her audibly hum to herself as she offers a little nod.

“Well. That’s good~... Because I don’t. But I’ve been told that this whole process is set up like that. So you’ll at least have an idea for what to expect, from here on out.” She states, her tone still casual though you do catch the uncertainty in it.

Must be hard, to have to compare your actions to something that you have never experienced. All the while you must hope that the person you’re talking to actually understands the reference. Particularly when you are not even certain as to whether or not the reference that you’re making is accurate.

“That being said-” She then hums as she raises a hand to motion for you to follow after her. “This is not a game.” She states.

The sudden shift in her tone is more than enough to make a chill run up your spine.

She went from casual, and almost playful; to completely stern and serious in the time that it took you to take a step.

“The games of your world make light of what can happen in this one.” She adds as she begins to walk. And you follow after her. “I’m not going to hold your hand and protect you from every little threat. You don’t get to encounter creatures that you’re guaranteed to be able to fight, just because you’re new. If you get cut, you bleed. And if you bleed, you can die.” She explains, all the while she slowly guides you from where you woke up to where she has decided that you need to be; which is on a path.

She guides you from an isolated location where it is obvious that people do not regularly travel, to an area that gets a lot of foot traffic. Likely to make it easier to explore the area.

Or maybe she just needs the road to figure out where exactly she is on the map…

“The games of your world borrow ideas from the reality of ours.” She adds as she looks up one side of the road, before turning to look down another. “... Things do not reset if you mess something up. Every action has a consequence. Positive or negative. Every fight that you pick could be your last. Any injuries you suffer may very well cripple you. You have a new body. Whether it's better than your last one doesn’t matter. It can be destroyed, all the same.” She further explains, before pausing for a moment to think.

You wait while she figures out what she wants to do. Whether it is pick her words or decide which direction that you should be led. Then when she starts to walk, you follow after her before she needs to raise a hand to motion for you to do so.

“And the people here will not delight in your arrival.” She eventually adds as she begins to lead you off of the road and down what seems to be a frequently used, but somewhat hidden path that leads you down a slope into the surrounding wilderness. One that takes you away from the clearing and into the nearby woodlands. “There is no prophecy to name you as our chosen savior. You will be perceived more as a dark omen. As a threat to the way of life that has already been established. The people will fear you. Many will avoid you. Many still will want to cut you down or deter you while you are still inexperienced and weak. All to prevent you from reaching a point where you can become the threat that you are welcome to become.” She states, all the while you pay careful attention so that you can soak in all of the information that she has elected to give you.

“Why would I be a threat?” You ask as you follow after her, carefully following her down the path as it begins to take you down a rocky ledge.

“Because you’re different.” Ayala replies, before suddenly pausing.

You watch as she silently looks around. Then you tilt your head somewhat as she takes the time to look at you.

“You aren’t like the people here. You don’t get bound to the same rules.” She states, seemingly having decided that just pointing out that you were different wasn’t good enough. Particularly when you wouldn’t know the full context of what she meant. “In this world, what a person can become depends upon the circumstances of their birth.” She says as she resumes the careful descent down the ledge. “If your mother is a baker and your father is a blacksmith, then you will already have all of the skills you need to take up either profession. You will be born and as soon as you can walk, you will know how to bake a loaf of bread or forge a sword. But if you aspire to become something beyond that, then what awaits you will be a tedious life where you must dedicate years, maybe even decades, to becoming something that is not in your blood.” She explains, electing to give you some examples so that you will be able to better understand what it is that she is trying to describe.

She pauses again once at the bottom of the slope. Then she glances up at you and motions for you to just hop down.

You follow her instructions, only to admittedly land a little harder than you’d like.

Then you glance back up.

Getting down here wasn’t too hard. But if she expects you to go back up that way, then there might be a problem… Not that you’ll be bringing that up just yet.

“What if my grandmother was a painter?” You ask, uttering the first question that pops into your head.

If abilities are determined by the profession of your ancestors, will the line be cut off at the parents? Or does your entire direct lineage influence things?

“Then how much effort you’ll need to put into learning will be greatly reduced.” Ayala replies as she reaches behind her into her pack.

She pulls out what you swear is a wand. Like what a wizard would use.

But instead of casting any spells, she just leans down to start drawing something in the dirt. A series of lines that intersect, with little shapes like circles and x’s beneath.

A family tree.

She’s drawing a family tree.

“The closer that a profession is to you, the easier you can master it.” She states, pointing first to the bottom two tiers of the tree; which would theoretically be you and your parents.

Then she points up to the line that would symbolize your grandparents.

“What would take others years, you would be able to learn in as little as a year, if you aspired to follow the footsteps of a grandparent. If that grandparent did not partake in the same profession of your mother or father.” She explains, before motioning up to the line that would symbolize your great-grandparents. “Increase that time by half, for a great grandparent. A year and a half.” She states, before then pointing up to the great-great grandparent line. “And then by that time and another half, by there, to bring you to two years and some months.” She states, before then pointing up to the next tier. The generation that would have brought your great-great grandparents into the world. “The further back you go, the more time that it would take. Amounting to the time that it would take based upon the next closest generation, plus half of that. Going on and on until the time that it would take you to learn it would make having it in your blood almost a moot point, because you’re taking as much time as anyone else might. But never reaching a point where you would have to take longer than someone who has no blood relation to the profession.” She explains, before taking her wand and putting it away.

As far as she is concerned, she has given you more than enough of an explanation. Plus a visual example to help you understand everything that she has said.

“You, however, are not bound by this rule.” She states. “You have not been born here. You were sent here. In a body that merely needed to be reminded of what it should be. You have no blood to define what you can become. And for some reason, when that happens, then you are free to become anything that you want.” She explains.

“Anything?! Just like that?!” You ask, naturally flabbergasted to have been told this.

“Well. Not quite.” Ayala sighs. “You will still need to learn. These skills and abilities are not immediately yours for the taking. But you will learn incredibly fast. Only those who directly follow a profession from their parents will outpace you in your ability to take up a talent. But depending on your personal detriments and buffs, you may be slower than someone who has aspired to take up their great-grandparent’s profession.” She explains.

In other words. You have arrived in this place and you literally have the ability to become whatever you want in less time that it would take most people to follow their dreams. Which could explain why you might be considered a threat, no matter how you go about things.

You are competition. The ultimate competition, at that. Someone who can just turn up and decide to be whatever they want.

Why that would mean that people will want to kill you over it, you have no idea. But Ayala may very well explain that matter to you in the near future.

“Are all skills determined by blood?” You ask. To which Ayala immediately shakes her head.

“No. There are universal skills, which all humans can access by default. But anything relating to a profession is locked behind either blood or years of training.” She states, before reaching up to tap the side of her head. Right behind her left eye. “Anyways. Next lesson! Let's try to make it quick, since you don’t get to eat till after it's done.” She states, abruptly changing the subject. Likely because she’s tired of explaining everything. Or maybe she just thinks that you need more time to digest what you’ve been told. “Pull up your user profile.” She requests.

You, naturally, stand there and stare at her with a deadpan look of confusion. Because you have no idea how to do that.

That confusion turns into mild annoyance when Ayala laughs at you.

“Alright. Let’s hope you don’t get grumpy when you’re hungry~” She muses, before she steps closer to you.

She then reaches up to touch you on the side of the head. Right behind your left eye. The same spot that she touched herself.

“You tap here and focus. Focus on yourself. Then you should be able to see all of the information that you need, in regards to your current status and abilities.” She instructs.

Given your lack of better options or a more thorough explanation, you do as she says.

Which, ultimately, doesn’t amount to much. Tapping on the side of your head has never done anything magical for you before, and given your inexperience, it doesn’t do anything for you now.

This is the “learning to speak through loud inner thoughts” process all over again. Only this time you have hunger gnawing at your insides and a distinct understanding that the longer you take to figure this out, the worse you’re going to feel.

You tap your head again. And again, nothing happens. Which, Ayala can apparently tell.

“Don’t forget to focus.” She reminds you.

Her smile hasn’t exactly faded but, you can tell that it is one of those “I feel bad for you” sort of smiles. Which doesn’t really do anything to help with your lack of ability to immediately do as she is instructing.

A frustrated sigh escapes you as you stare at her.

“Do I really need to figure this out now?” You ask.

Unfortunately, you are getting frustrated. You’re hungry and were under the assumption that Ayala was leading you all the way out here so that you could find something to eat.

“Unless you want to aimlessly walk around looking for something that might be edible, yes.” Ayala replies with a little sigh.

“Excuse me?” You respond, giving her a skeptical look.

“Look-” She sighs as she turns around to look out into the woodland surrounding you. “This patch of forest is full of edible forage. But until you invest a skill point into the foraging skill tree, you won’t be able to see any of it. Not unless you wind up right on top of it. And you won’t be able to discern common edibles from their common toxic look-alikes at all unless you’ve got the foraging skill unlocked.” She explains.

As she does, she steps away from you to approach a nearby tree.

You watch as she bends over and reaches down to pick something up.

Something that you cannot even see, despite it clearly being there, considering that she has grabbed it.

Once she has it, she approaches you to show off what she’s found.

Some sort of mushroom. A jelly mushroom, to be specific. With a vibrant golden hue.

It's pretty small, though. So if she were to give it to you to eat, it wouldn’t really do much.

“This, for example. We call it Witch’s Butter. Grows all over the place, out here. But you can’t see any of it. So unless you want to inspect every single tree hoping to find more and hoping that what you find instead is edible, you’ll pull up your user profile so that we can move on to the next step.” She states, showing off her foraged mushroom to sort of provide an example as to why she had suddenly elected to not show you how to forage.

Apparently she can’t. At least not until you’ve done as she asks.

Which is annoying. But oh well. There isn’t much that you can do.

You do have one last question pertaining to the matter, though.

“... Why do you call it Witch’s butter?” You ask, referring to the little yellow mushroom that she’s shown you.

“Oh. Because it tastes like butter.” Ayala replies without the slightest hint of hesitation, before laughing. “When it gets wet it gets all oily. If you eat it, it just tastes like butter. And it has the same texture as beef fat.” She explains, describing the mushroom to you.

To be honest, you aren’t sure how to feel about that. But, now the name makes sense. A mushroom that tastes like butter and has the texture of beef fat? That certainly sounds like something that a witch would conjure up.

“Anyways. Tap and focus.” She then comments, reminding you of the task at hand.

Time to lock in and see if you can actually do what she asks of you.

You reach up to tap your head once more. Just as she has instructed. And you do so under the assumption that not much of anything is going to happen as a result.

Much to your surprise, that is exactly what happens.

Again. Nothing. You tap your head near your eye and absolutely nothing happens!

Great.

You’re going to be here all day. You can tell.

So you go ahead and settle down where you stand. No reason to literally stand around all day in hopes of something miraculously changing. You may as well try to be comfortable while you repeatedly tap the side of your head like you’re trying to find some invisible switch.

Ayala doesn’t question what you’re doing. She just settles down across from you so that she can sit and wait for you to either figure it out or ask more questions.

You tap your head. Exactly where she has instructed you to tap.

Nothing happens.

You tap again. Still, nothing happens.

This becomes your reality for the next couple of hours.

The more you try, the more you fail. And the more you fail, the more irritated you get. The more your stomach begins to gnaw at you because you have gone an unbearable amount of time without eating, and for some reason, Ayala has no intention of just sharing whatever food she might happen to have with her.

Logically you know that this is just a trial by fire. If Ayala just feeds you, and you elect to just rely on her, you might never learn to do what you need to do.

Being able to pull up your User Information seems like a pretty important aspect about living in this world. So obviously she just wants you to get that sorted sooner rather than later.

Denying you food is just a means of encouragement. Even if it is incredibly irritating.

So much so that you inevitably start to focus less on what you’re trying to do and more on how you feel.

And wouldn’t you know it, that’s when something seems to happen.

Not that you can fully describe what that something is.

It reminds you of a pause screen. Like in a video game… Which makes sense, considering what Ayala has said.

There’s a diagram showing your body and your current appearance. Gear and equipment, of which you currently have none. Then of course there’s a bunch of information off to one side that seems to be describing everything about you and your current state.

The primary example there being that you can tell exactly how hungry you are by looking at a little scale off to the side. One which also monitors things like your current rest level (well rested), as well as your temperature (comfortable).

Your hunger, meanwhile, is planted firmly in the “Discomfort” range on the bar. Not anywhere near the starvation range, but you’re still pretty hungry.

You see all of this relatively clearly.

Yet at the same time, it is as if you don’t see it at all. Because you can still clearly see Ayala, as well as the wilderness that you’re currently resting in.

An overlay.

That is the best way to describe it. Your User Information appears as a sort of overlay. Something that you can see without it ever actually impeding anything that is happening around you.

Which could be useful. You wouldn’t want to go blind while trying to check your personal status. That would leave you vulnerable to all sorts of potential danger.

“I take it that you’ve figured it out~?” Ayala asks.

She’s been watching you this whole time so, she must have been able to tell when you managed to pull up your User Information. You must have made a face or something to give it away.

“Uh, yeah. I think so.” You reply, glancing at her to find that she is staring at you with a satisfied grin on her face.

“Okay, good~” She hums. “Now. I presume you’re on your status sheet. If you look to one side, you’ll find some extra information slots. One of them is your skill tree. See if you can focus well enough to pull that up.” She states, quickly giving you some instructions on what you should be doing next. “You’ll find the slots on your dominant side. So, whichever hand is the most dominant.” She adds, giving you one last tidbit of information before going quiet to wait for you to do as she has said.

Given that you’re still staring at the initial page, you can see what she’s talking about. Yep. Right off to one side there is a little slot marked “Skills”. Which is where you’ll find your skill tree.

You expect it to be difficult to progress to that step. But seeing as you’re actively looking at what you need to find, it's actually pretty easy for you to pull open your skill tree.

Which is huge.

There are easily thousands of options mapping out the whole thing. And fully zoomed out, it's almost like looking at a map of the stars. Only all of the stars are dull, because all of your skills are currently inactive.

“Okay I uh… I’m on my skill tree.” You state. “It's pretty big though.” You admit, earnestly.

“Oh, yeah. Like I said. You have access to the entire skill tree. So nothing is blacked out or beyond access.” Ayala replies in a casual, matter-of-fact way. “Don’t worry about it. Nothing at the top matters until you decide to sit down and map out how you want to apply accrued skill points. For now, you need to focus on the Survival branch. Foraging will be between Hunting and Fishing.” She explains, sort of giving you some instructions on what you need to do without ever fully getting into details as to how.

You do figure it out, though.

Turns out that just thinking about where you need to go just sort of makes the skill tree zoom in on the desired area.

Just as Ayala said, the Foraging skill is found under the Survival branch. Right along with Hunting, Fishing, and Crafting. Which all branch out towards other talents, some on their own and others connected by two points earlier on.

“... Honestly, just go ahead and drop a skill point into each of those first four. You’ll need it.” She adds after a few moments of pause.

“How many- nevermind.” You nearly ask her how many skill points you have. Then you notice the ten points that are already available.

“Yeah. Ten~” Ayala teasingly replies, answering the question that you never fully asked. “All of the options along the bottom of the tree grant you access to anything above it. And various talents can be upgraded through the use of additional skill points, to increase their strength. Everything on the bottom of the Survival branch just gives you the ability to use and access those talents. But there are specifics that you need to invest into later, if you decide.” She explains while you go about investing your skill points into the four Survival talents.

Hunting, Fishing, Foraging, and Crafting.

“Alright. Done.” You hum, letting Ayala know that you’ve finished with your assigned task.

“Okay. Good~” She replies.

You then watch her casually push herself back onto her feet.

“Now. Go ahead and close your User Information. You’ll be able to start foraging now~” She states, giving you the go-ahead to try and shift your attention back to your original task. Which is to track down something to eat.

It takes you a few moments to figure out how to actually make your User Information close so that you can see normally. And once you do, you find yourself taken aback by your sudden change in surroundings.

Just as Ayala said earlier, this part of the forest is full of foragable goods.

You can see mushrooms, ferns, flowers, and all sorts of other little plants. All of which you would like to assume are edible, though you might have some trial and error to look out for.

Your guide obviously notices your response to the sudden visual onslaught. Which coaxes a soft laugh out of her.

“As you’ve noticed. There is a lot of forage in the area.” She states as she steps aside to motion towards the expanse of wilderness found behind her. “A lot of it is edible! But, some of it isn’t. As of now, you can identify any abundant forage. You’ll be able to tell it apart from its toxic counterparts, if it has any. Anything that is less common, you won’t really be able to identify it. So try to stick to what you can identify if you don’t want to eat poison~” She explains, before turning to walk away from you. Presumably so that she can forage something for herself. “Oh! And also. Anything new, you can inspect it to learn more about it. You’ll see a red aura around dangerous things, and a blue aura around things that are safe. If the aura is yellow or orange, I’d suggest that you err on the side of caution and leave it alone.” She adds, taking the time to give you more of this much needed information before she sends you off to try and gather your own food. “Now go on, and take your time. I’ll show you how to cook whatever you find.” She concludes, before she disappears behind a tree.

At first, you assume that she’s just walked around it to start foraging. But when you make your way towards said tree to peek behind it, you find that Ayala has completely disappeared.

She can either move faster than you thought, or there is magic at play.

Either way, it would seem that you are now alone. And you’re expected to go about the business of foraging while she’s off doing whatever it is that she’s left to do.

Maybe she’s just used magic to turn invisible and now she’s waiting to see what you’ll do.

Maybe she actually left.

You don’t know.

But you do know that you’re hungry. And if what Ayala said is true, then there is plenty to eat around here. So long as you can find it.

Ergo, you must set out to find it. On the promise of being shown how to make a proper meal out of whatever raw ingredients you manage to find, when your guide returns.

[springfallendeer]

The RPG Experience (An Isekai AU) - 01 - An End, and a Beginning

Finally got around to writing the first segment of this AU. Which isn't really PLANNED to be a FNAF AU of any sort, but, who can say.

This Isekai AU is heavily inspired by a mix of other Isekai stories and by traditional RPG games, with a few fun twists being added to make worldbuilding more more tasty for me. Have a read if you're interested.

It is a reader insert featuring a female reader. This section is just over 5k words in length, so it may be a little bit of a read. This chapter does feature death but it is by no means graphic and is merely glanced over.

Just a day. Like any other.

One full of chores. One in which obligations must be met.

Not so much for the sake of survival, but for the sake of maintaining the status quo.

Get up. Go to work. Earn money. Use money to pay for basic needs, and if you’re lucky, basic wants. Finish work. Go home. Spend any remaining time doing as you please, if you can be bothered to pull your mind off of your responsibilities for long enough to try.

Sleep. Eat. Work. Repeat.

Relentless. Endless. Mind numbing and boring.

But such is life. And it is the lift that anyone in such a prosperous country must endure, if they wish to continue to benefit off of the system.

No war. No famine. No pestilence.

Death, while inescapable, is little more than the inevitable inconvenience of having lived. Treated more as another means of sending or receiving money than as the tragic loss of existence than it is in reality.

Tring-Tring

Tring-Tring

Tragic indeed.

Tragic how life can be here one moment and then gone the next. Erased through happenstance.

An intentional destruction.

The passage of time.

Or an accident, unforeseen and yet impossible to escape.

Tring-Tring

Tring-Tring

Just a day. Like any other.

Tring-Tring

Tring-Tring

Until it is not.

An unexpected change to the routine. Something unaccounted for and impossible to predict.

An accident. Unforeseen. Impossible to escape. And yet inevitable.

A sudden collision.

The inevitable loss of balance that comes with being knocked off of your feet. Then the inescapable pull of gravity once your body has lost connection to the ground.

Shock.

Surprise.

Confusion.

Darkness.

Perpetual and all consuming darkness. Stretching into eternity on all sides. Perceivable only because, for whatever reason, your mind cannot seem to settle. Even in death, it seems that you cannot escape the continual mental buzz that is thought.

Abstract thought, mind you. Distorted and near impossible to describe. Like trying to translate the dazzling display of the aurora borealis into biblical scripture.

Wordless.

Descriptionless.

Yet what buzzes through your consciousness can be described as thoughts, nonetheless.

You have no means of grasping just how long you remain in this state.

Time in and of itself has become a paradox. Something that exists and yet does not. Something that is tangible yet exists well beyond your reach.

Infinity becomes an experience that is had in what may translate to an instant.

You are limitless. Yet you are bound.

You are unending. And still, you are nothing. Inconsequential and forgotten.

You are everything that ever was, and everything that could ever be.

Here in the darkness, vast and unending, you have become reality in and of itself. And when the light suddenly finds you, you become stripped of your limitless infinity to be made into what is next expected of you.

The intangible is made tangible.

That which was once limitless becomes strictly bound by law, unwritten or otherwise.

The corporeal is given form.

You are alive again.

And yet somehow, you are not entirely so.

Lungs ache to take a breath. But no matter how your chest might distort itself, the air refuses to find its way into you.

Eyes blink and dart about in search of perception. And though you are capable of seeing, everything that you lay your eyes upon feels impossible to fully comprehend.

You walk. And though you do so effortlessly, as if unrestricted by gravity, every part of you remains innately aware of this world's gravitational pull.

You exist. But somehow… Somehow you feel as though you are incomplete. Like you are not all here, despite every obviously having moved beyond the limitless void that is infinity.

“What   Are   You?”

Is that thought yours, or a question being asked to you by some invisible force.

A response is there, dancing on the tip of your tongue. And yet even as you attempt to force the words from your lips, you discover yet another anomaly about whatever it is that you have become.

You have no lips with which to speak.

No tongue with which to talk.

You reach up towards your face to confirm as much. Only to find that your fingers feel nothing. No ridges. No lumps. No signs of any essential blemish or addition to your face that might prove vital in actually creating a face.

No ears. No nose. No mouth.

The only proof that you have eyes at all is the fact that you can poke them. And even then, the lack of pain that comes about as a result makes that observation feel less… Sincere.

It is as though your eyes do not fully exist, and are there purely to give you the illusion of sight. Which might explain why it is that nothing that you’re looking at feels… Real.

“What   Are   You?”

The thought; or voice, whatever it may be; pops into your head once more. And though the answer is there, you cannot yet fathom how it is that you will reply when you lack the utilities that are required if you wish to speak.

It is confusing. Distressing, even, to so desperately want to speak but to lack the facilities to make it happen.

“Hey there, handsome.” An unfamiliar voice unexpectedly calls out to you, pulling you from your personal spiral as you turn towards the source. “Or beautiful. Whichever you prefer.” It then adds, offering a casual wave of the hand once the owner of the voice comes into your line of sight. “Welcome to the world.” She then states, speaking to you as calmly and casually as she would any other person.

Which is confusing, considering the fact that you definitely do not resemble any regular person. Given the whole lack of facial features and… Lack of other general human traits.

You have only just noticed that your skin isn’t really skin. And the only reason that you notice is because you’ve suddenly become aware of the state of your hands. Which are closer to vaguely hand shaped blobs than they are to well… Hands.

Five distinct extensions but your fingers almost appear as though they are webbed. And your skin is not only gray, but distorted; like television static.

You find yourself so distracted by the weird state of your body that you almost immediately forget about the fact that there’s a random woman here who has spoken to you. At least until she walks up and casually lifts your arm so that she can peek under it to look at you.

“Hello? Anyone in there~?” She calls, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she talks to you. “Having trouble figuring out words~?” She then asks, before she ducks back under your arm to step away from you. “You talk with your mind. Not with your mouth. At least while you’re like this.” She hums, quickly giving you some instructions on how to go about responding to her.

Though her instructions are probably as straightforward as they can get, you still struggle to actually make use of them.

You are thinking. You have been thinking this entire time. And yet at no point has your voice ever become loud enough to somehow bypass the limitations of your current form.

“Come on now. If you can’t at least do that, then you won’t fare well in this world.” She comments while watching you.

She is clearly waiting for you to say; or think something. Something loud enough for her to be capable of hearing.

Though you try to think of something; anything; that she might be able to hear, you still struggle to find your voice.

It is hard to make your inner monologue take on any form of volume. And unsurprisingly so. The average person could never hope to make their inner voice scream or shout. The internal volume of your mind, even when constant and unrelenting, has always been the same.

You are telling your thoughts to yell. But your thoughts have never had enough of a voice to them to muster more than a clear and coherent mutter.

“Really? Nothing?” The woman asks.

She steps closer to you again. Not close enough to try and grab you and move you around of her own accord, but close enough that she could touch you if she wanted. Or vice versa.

“Start simple.” She states. “Say your name.”

That is the advice that you are given. To just… Tell her your name. Which should be simple enough, in theory.

You still struggle, though. Considering that the bulk of the issue comes from your attempts at making your inner voice come across as loud as your outer voice once was.

She waits.

You focus.

You focus and she waits.

Your name is there and you know it. She is simply here, standing by in hopes that you can at least muster up the strength needed to relay that name to her.

She does not speak. Not again. She remains silent so as to keep from interrupting you as you go through the arduous task of forming the syllables within the wrinkled confines of your brain.

Eventually, and inevitably, the word forms. But only after the constant glow of the mid-afternoon sun fades away into soft radiance of the evening sunset; when the stars begin to first make their appearance in the sky.

Even then, though, your voice estables you as dull and inaudible mumbling. A syllable woven in every so often as the strangest of guttural noises emulate from your vaguely humanoid form.

You know your name. And under normal circumstances, you would be more than capable of speaking it.

You just… You just need some time to figure out exactly how you’re meant to utter it now. When you do not have lips or tongue with which to speak, you must instead attempt to make your mind loud enough for others to hear.

Little by little though, the barely audible syllables that find themselves echoing from the depths of your mind begin to grow in volume.

They become louder. More coherent. Until, with the apex of the moon, your first proper word manages to sound loud and clear from the innermost depths of your mind.

“...”

… No.

That did not sound right.

That is most definitely your name, or at least it was the name that you once had. But here in this world, in the language that is most definitely not your own, that name comes across as nothing but a mismatched mess of sounds. Incoherent, despite being said with the correct pronunciation.

“... I couldn’t even hope to pronounce that.” The woman replies after a long and uncomfortable moment of silence. One which makes it clear that she could not understand the garbled mess of sounds that just escaped you. “A new name is in order, I’d say.” She then adds.

There then follows another moment of silence as she ponders a possible name option.

“... How about Seedling?” She suggests.

“Seedling?” You immediately and effortlessly repeat, stating the name as clearly as she just did. Though you do so with a tone that obviously gives away your negative opinion of the suggestion.

“Temporarily, of course~” She chuckles, seemingly content with the fact that she has gotten you to say something as clearly as you have. “New world. Limitless possibilities and all. You’re like a seedling. Capable of growing into just about anything, and I haven’t a clue what you might become~” She muses, proudly describing why it is that she’s elected to give you such an absurd name.

More absurd is the fact that you cannot think of a more appropriate name, despite staunchly disagreeing with the one that she has given you.

Apparently, she takes your silence as compliance. Which… Well she isn’t entirely wrong.

“That settles it, then~ Until you can find a better name for yourself, we’ll call you Seedling.” She states, her voice lighter and her overall demeanor being a triumphant one.

Though you are far from amused, you do not argue.

Speaking is difficult as is. And you’re in a very confusing situation. Best to just… Let this woman go about her business, if it means potentially getting some sort of explanation behind all of this.

She already seems to be aware of the weird situation that you have found yourself in. Which might mean that she’s come along with the express intent of helping you along so that you aren’t left out here alone to try and figure things out.

She then clears her throat.

“Anyways-” She hums as she shifts once more to look at you. “My name is Ayala. You can think of me as your personal guide, at least until I get bored and decide to leave you on your own.” She states, giving herself an introduction as well as blatantly telling you that you’re more or less just some form of amusement.

“Guide?” You repeat, and sort of… Ask. Speaking is still difficult and at the moment it would seem that the best that you can muster in response is one or two words, at most. Which is unsurprising, considering that it took you literal hours just to figure out how to say a name that apparently doesn’t have a proper sound in this world.

“Yes, a guide.” She replies. “Y’know. Someone to walk you through all of the confusing and disorienting things that come with suddenly finding yourself in a new world. One where the rules that you’re more accustomed to either don’t apply or have been entirely changed, because everything is different.” She comments, seemingly under the impression that you do not even know what a guide is.

She is wrong, but you can appreciate her rambling regardless. Seeing as it gives you some much needed insight on your situation.

“New world?” You repeat.

May as well attempt to fish for as much information as you can, while this stranger is feeling talkative.

She’s already said that she’ll just leave when she gets bored. You don’t know when that will be, so it would be in your best interest to make the most of her while she is around.

“Correct~” She replies, offering a coy smile as she does. “You are what those of us call here, an Immigrant. Also known as an Outsider or a Settler. Someone from an entirely different world, who rather than being sent here as a spirit to be reborn as one of us, is sent here as you were to make the most of this world. Untethered by our limitations, yet bound to many of our rules all the same.” She explains, describing your circumstances casually and effortlessly, as though she has done so many times in the past. “You have been Eesekeyed, as some would call it!” She then adds, confidently uttering the weird word with the same amount of confidence as she has said everything else. Though she does so in a way that makes it clear that the word is unfamiliar to her.

“... Eesekeyed?” You repeat, your tone one of obvious confusion.

Her demeanor immediately shifts. She seems both confused and disappointed as she looks at you.

“Did I not say it right?” She asks with a little sigh as her shoulders slump. “Someone who came before you once described the meaning of the word. She said that there was a form of entertainment in your world, focused on the idea of dying and being reborn in another world.” She explains.

In doing so, she makes it clear what she is trying to describe.

An Isekai. As in the popular manga and anime genre in which a character suddenly finds themselves in an entirely new world. Usually after dying suddenly and in brutal fashion.

… You aren’t sure what is more surprising. The fact that this woman seems to be aware of what an Isekai is, or the fact that being Isekaied is an actual thing.

You should be more surprised knowing that you died, but… Well. You’re not.

Even though you don’t fully remember what happened, you do remember that you died. And that it was an accident.

Ultimately, it doesn’t really matter how it happened.

You died.

Someone killed you, albeit unintentionally, and it happened so quickly that you weren’t even given the opportunity to be afraid of what came next. You just found your consciousness trapped within the confines of infinity.

Which on its own sounds like an experience that has to have been terrifying, but you do not recall it as such.

You recall it as a pleasant and almost peaceful experience, actually.

Not that it matters.

Infinity spat you out and now you’re here. In an entirely new world, in a strange body that somehow is neither alive nor dead. And this strange woman has come along to walk you through the confusing process that you’ve found yourself in. Albeit as a means of alleviating her boredom, rather than out of any desire to be a good samaritan.

“Isekai.” You calmly repeat, giving Ayala a verbal example of the word that she has been mispronouncing.

“Yes. That.” Ayala replies in turn, not even bothering to try and repeat the word herself. “You have been brought to this world after having your life cut short in the world you came from. Here, your options are virtually unlimited.” She states, before pausing and letting out a sigh. “… But not really. There are a lot of rules in this world, and you are bound by them. As is everyone else that inhabits this place. The only difference is that your rules can be different, in a lot of ways.” She explains, correcting her language so as to not misrepresent the situation that you have found yourself in.

She paces around absently as she talks, glancing at you every so often without ever stopping to properly look at you full on. All the while you awkwardly stand there as you attempt to soak in all of this information.

“Anyways-” She exclaims, turning abruptly to face you fully “Your first step lies the creation of the self. You begin more or less as you ended. At least in terms of the body. But if you found yourself dissatisfied with aspects of what you once were, you do have the opportunity to change that.” She explains, not that you can fully understand what it is that she is talking about.

When you merely stand there and stare at her in dead silence, for a while, she sighs.

“Look. This world is a lot like something that you call a video-game. Whatever that is. And apparently, in a lot of those games, the first thing that you get to do is create your body.” She states, seemingly attempting to better describe what you’re supposed to do next. “You won’t have as much control, I’d guess. You will resemble yourself, as you were before you died. Just younger if you were old, or a bit older if you died before reaching your peak. You just have the option to change certain things. Like your sex. Or the amount of body hair that you get to have.” She explains, even going so far as to give you some additional examples of what you may or may not have control over in terms of creating your new body. “... I guess depending on the state of your body when you die, you get to have new limbs or make broken limbs work. I’ve had people come through that died after living lives where they didn’t have an arm or a leg, or where they had both legs but those legs didn’t work. None of that carries over. So…” She pauses after trying to further explain how this whole “character creation” system goes.

She reaches up to grasp at her chin, seemingly in thought.

“Able-bodied, is the right description, I’d think. You’ll have everything that you’re supposed to have, and everything will work the way that it is supposed to. There won’t be any pain that you shouldn’t have, and you won’t have any odd handicaps that made your old life difficult. You will be a fresh slate, so to speak. With a body that is fully intact and waiting for you to make the most of it.” She finally concludes. “If that doesn’t explain it then I can’t help you there. You’ll just have to answer the question to get started, if you don’t want to spend forever as… That.” She finally states, before stepping back to motion towards the weird state of your body.

You take a moment to glance yourself over, as best as you can. And… Yeah. That is an adequate means of describing what you are.

Not human. But close. You’re just a big, vaguely human shaped entity that could be better described as an incomplete render than anything else.

You stare at your weird shaped hands for a moment as you ponder her explanation.

“... What question?” You then ask.

“What   Are   You?”

Ayala repeats the very question that has echoed in the depths of your mind numerous times since finding yourself here. And as she does, her voice somehow distorts to the point where it melds with the disembodied voice that has been asking you the question.

The sudden shift is incredibly disorienting. To the point that you find yourself suddenly feeling dizzy enough to stumble where you stand.

You do not fall over. But for a moment, it feels as though you might.

Ayala just watches as you sway in place for a moment. Then, when it seems as though you’re steady, she opens her mouth again.

“Are   you   a   Boy,   or   a   Girl?”

She asks, her voice distorting again to meld with the voice that keeps echoing within the depths of your mind.

“Once you’ve decided on that, you’ll be human again. And you’ll be free to start towards the next step of starting your new life.” She hums as she settles down to sit calmly on the grass in front of you.

“If you can’t even do that, then you’ll remain as you are. A formless ghost of what you might become. Incapable of doing anything that makes a human, human. Never eating. Never sleeping. Never breathing. Incapable of feeling either pain or pleasure, while being able to remember what all of that once meant to you.” She explains, doing what she can to make it very clear that this question that you’re being asked is not an optional one.

You must either pick, or you remain trapped as this thing that you have been brought into this world as. An incomplete render of a human that lacks the means to do pretty much anything that a human would be able to do. At least where it counts towards things that would make you alive.

“... For the record, being neither is not a valid option. Not here.” She then adds. “I’ve had people argue with me about it in the past. And I tell you now as I’ve told them. The rules of your world might have allowed for more than two. There might have been three. Or five. Or ten options, for what you get to be. But this world is not like that.” She explains as she casually shrugs off a heavy looking traveling pack that she has been carrying with her this whole time. Presumably so that she can start to set up camp for the night, while the moon is still bright.

Why she waited until now to do so, you have no idea. But she has been focusing on trying to get you sorted this whole time, so… That might be the reason, actually.

“What you are. Male or female. Man or woman. That dictates a lot about what you can become, as a person.” She hums as she pulls out what appears to be a tea kettle.

Seems she intends on making herself a warm drink.

It must be cold out. Not that you can tell, seeing as you cannot feel it.

“Men are stronger. Built to be more durable, and harder to wound. Women have higher constitution and recover faster than men. We have our own traits, unique to us, and tied to our sex. This world is built upon that as a foundation, among other things relating to race. Now that you are here, you are tied to that foundation. And so you must decide. Sooner, rather than later. Whether you wish to live this world as a man, or as a woman.” She explains, all the while she pours water from a leather pouch into the metal kettle that she has pulled out.

You sigh in response.

She is not wrong for explaining this.

The world that you came from had more options, than just the two. Though the two were of importance, since most other options could tie back to it in some way.

Not that it matters now.

She has made it clear how things work here. And seeing as you cannot reject or resist the notion, outside of condemning yourself to a very unpleasant sounding existence… You have little choice but to comply.

“... Can I change it? If I make the wrong choice.” You ask, finding yourself capable of speaking in longer sentences after having spent a short while communicating with your mind.

“Yes.” She replies. “Not right away, mind you. The choice that you make now will stick with you until you can attain the resources needed to change it.” She explains. “Rare as it may be, we have people born in the wrong body. A man trapped inside of a woman. Or a woman trapped inside of a man. Forced to live in a body that does not align with the mind and soul. There are ways to correct it. It just takes time and resources. So whatever you pick, be prepared to live that way for a while. Just know that it is no more permanent than life itself.” She states.

You watch as she starts a small fire beneath the kettle that she has placed upon the ground. And much to your surprise, she starts it not with kindling, but with a simple snap of her fingers.

Ah.

Magic.

There is magic in this world.

How wonderful it is to know that.

“... I already know what I am.” You eventually reply. Which prompts the woman to offer a curious hum in response as she continues to go about the process of preparing her drink.

“And what might that be?” She asks, seemingly to keep the conversation going. Though she is now paying more attention to her tea, or whatever it is that she is making, than she is to you.

“I am a woman.” You reply.

And suddenly, without question, that is exactly what you are.

The incomplete render of your form fades away, and you are left as what you have claimed yourself to be.

A woman. Plain and simple.

You stand now as what you once were. A woman in her prime years. Fresh and new to the world and having been given a new lease on life, after having spent your former one trapped in a perpetual cycle that brought you nothing but emptiness.

Plain or beautiful. Tall or short. Fat or thin. Your perception of yourself won’t make much of a difference now, all things considered.

The rules here are different and confusing as everything is, you’re here now. So you’ll just have to adapt in hopes of making the most of this strange new situation that you have found yourself in.

“Congratulations, Seedling.” Ayala hums as she reaches back into her traveling pack to pull out two cups, both of which lack handles and appear to be made of clay. “You have completed the first step towards becoming a part of this world. Welcome to Arata, as we call it. Though I suppose you could call it Earth, if you wanted.” She states, giving you a calm but honest welcome to this strange new world that you’ll be calling home from here on out.

“... Thank you.” You reply after a moment, having found yourself briefly overwhelmed by the sudden return of sensation to your body.

Everything works now.

You hear clearly. See things clearly, and as they are.

When you touch your face, it is reassuring to find all of the familiar bumps and grooves that make up the various details of your face. You can feel your lips, your nose, your ears. Even your eyebrows.

Just as Ayala said. You exist now as you once were. Just in your prime. And had you been a man in your old life, you suspect that you would just be the female depiction of that.

“... Can I interest you in some tea?” Ayala then asks.

As soon as you do, you become innately aware of the chill in the air. Not to mention the sluggishness of your muscles as your body seems to decide that you have spent far too long awake.

“... Sure.” You reply, after a short pause.

Yeah. Some tea sounds nice. Something to warm you up.

And then after, maybe she’s got a blanket or something in that bag so that you can at least take a nap before any other choices or responsibilities get dropped on your shoulders.

You settle down atop the grass across from Ayala and watch as she pours some hot water into each cup.

Then you watch as she reaches into her bag to fish out a small metal container, which she opens to reveal that it is full of little tablets.

They sort of resemble pills, but you can also tell that they have a weird texture to them. Like compressed grass or coffee grounds.

She throws one into each cup, and you watch as the clear water takes on a murkish brown hue within a few seconds.

“Sugar?” She asks.

“Sure.” You reply.

She puts her tea pods away before fishing out another metal tin, which is apparently full of sugar cubes.

She tosses two into each cup, before putting the tin away.

Then she offers one of the cups to you as she claims her own. And once you have hold of it, she holds her cup up.

“To new beginnings.” She states, before she takes a long drink of her tea.

“... To new beginnings.” You quietly repeat, before taking a drink in turn.

[springfallendeer]

Finally finished writing the first segment of the Isekai AU. Its just over 5k words. I'll get around to dropping it here sometime in the next few days, maybe

[springfallendeer]

You're about to close on your very own, suspiciously affordable and comfortable house. Just before you sign the contract, the realtor shows you the required legal disclosure: your new house is haunted by the type of presence you'll get from this spinner wheel.

Of course it is.

[springfallendeer]

Into the Murk

Subnautica inspired (one-shot) in which you as the reader are stranded on the planet and are desperate to reach and scan some wreckage. All the while you soak in the agony that is your predicament.

“Warning! Multiple Leviathan class lifeforms detected!”

The automated voice speaks loudly in your ears as you make your slow and tedious descent into the murk waiting below.

The water here is thick.

Thicker than the water just overhead. The water that still knows the pleasant embrace of sunlight.

The water that generally keeps these giants of the deep at bay while you go about your important, daily tasks.

They thrive in the deep. Where it is dark. Where their vibrant, glowing markings can act as lures for the unsuspecting creatures that find themselves trapped down in the murk.

You have seen them. Glimpses of them, at least.

There are two. Possibly three to have claimed this particular swathe of territory as their primary hunting ground.

One is more vibrant, with hues of yellow and orange spread across their scaly hide.

The other comes across as more tranquil. Colored mostly blue, with silverish markings.

The third - if there even is a third one - you have yet to catch a proper glimpse of. It has never broken past this blanket of blackened water in order to reveal itself to the surface. You have only ever seen the ripples form along the surface of this underwater abyss as it teases you with its presence. Like a monster lurking just behind a veil of smoke; distorting the cloud with its movements yet never properly revealing itself to its potential prey.

They do not hunt beyond the black. This strange sea within the sea, where the water has been made dense by the presence of thousands of distinct microorganisms. All of which thrive here, for one reason or another, but quickly die if pulled just a few feet higher.

Water samples quickly self-destruct. Millions of microorganisms trapped within the supposed safety of a test tube rapidly perish, and their tiny corpses sink to the bottom of the vial to create a pool of darkness.

Anything from the pressure in the water to the intensity of the light could be the culprit. But the fact remains that this sunken abyss is a terrifying, yet alluring anomaly.

One which you must reluctantly explore if you wish to ever find the means of escaping this hostile alien world.

Your scanners can detect it. Vital mechanical components that have sunk down into the briny depths to slowly waste away.

You must recover these components quickly. Either salvage them directly or scan them with your computer in order to manufacture a blueprint that will allow you to recreate what you do not have.

Without access to these parts, any chance of building a vessel capable of breaking free of the planet's gravitational pull is completely lost.

You have to do this.

You have to brave these unexplored depths and chance an encounter with these strange, otherworldly predators, all in the hopes of obtaining the means of freeing yourself from this horrid place.

“Are you sure that whatever you’re doing is worth it?”

The computerized voice inquires as you take one last glance up into the brighter waters.

One last glance up at the light of the sun, before you fully descend into this murky abyss to make a desperate rush towards your only possible means of salvation.

“No.”

You eventually reply, speaking not to the AI that has addressed you, but to yourself.

There is no telling what waits for you down here.

No telling how many hostile, opportunistic predators are eagerly watching and waiting for you to make the mistake and venture down into their domain.

What you might think of as two or three hungry Leviathans could be dozens of them, clustered together like a swarm of eels, waiting to each get a taste of anything that could even be remotely thought of as food.

The darkness envelopes you and it feels as though you’ve just submerged yourself into a pool of syrup.

The water is thick.

Because most of what you’re in, isn’t even water.

You’re swimming in a living cloud of microorganisms. Clustered together and suspended with what could only be a few sparse molecules of liquid between them.

Every movement is a struggle to fight against them. The sea of murkish life pulls at your body on all sides. And due to your inability to properly study any of these microscopic creatures, you have no means of knowing for certain if this difficult movement is merely a byproduct of moving through them, or the proof of something more sinister.

This could be a sea of predatory organisms, for all that you know. A carnivorous hivemind that attempts to capture living prey only to come together as a unit to digest anything that it can successfully restrain.

The Leviathans could be specially adapted predators that work in symbiosis with the murk. Large and powerful and therefore perfectly capable of crippling or even killing more substantial food sources.

The Leviathans get a meal and the scraps left behind from the carnage could feed the abyss.

This is, of course, speculation. You have no proof. Your anxiety has burst through to the surface and your brain is conjuring up the worst possible explanation to your predicament.

The assumptions are unfounded.

But that doesn’t stop your brain from snatching hold of the idea and running with it.

There is no proof that the murk seeks to devour you.

You also do not have any proof to the contrary. Which is what makes this unpleasant adventure all the more terror inducing.

Every motion is a struggle.

You move and the murk quickly closes in to seal the space left behind.

You are not swimming. Swimming involves momentum though the water, which generally allows most things to move through it with relative ease. And you, in particular, are equipped with supplies that make traversing this hostile ocean a breeze.

This is not swimming.

You are pulling yourself through the thick, syrupy substance that is the living abyss.

The murk is so dense and full of drag that so long as you can work through the tedious process of sifting through it, you can continue to move. But as soon as that movement stops, so does everything around you.

You will not float if you stop moving. You will be suspended in a living biofluid. All the while you will be trapped in the presence of multiple Leviathan class entities that, for whatever reason, are able to move through this thick substance as effortlessly as the more traditional fish move through the normal water.

Minutes pass.

Your only focus is the descent.

Down. Down. Down.

You must pull yourself deep, deep down into the depths of this abyss in hopes of locating the wreckage that you must salvage in order to further your plans to escape.

All the while you must work against your anxiety as you do what must be done.

It is quiet here.

So deathly, eerily quiet.

The substance around you doesn’t make a sound as you push through it.

But your body does.

Your suit does.

Which only adds to your unease.

What if the Leviathans can move silently through the murk?

You have never heard them make a sound.

Not a roar. Not a growl. Not a hiss.

You have only ever been able to track them based upon their movements near the surface of the abyssal sea, when their activity can be easily observed. Like that of an insect tunneling near the surface of the sand. They distort the bioliquid that they inhabit with their every movement, disrupting it with the sheer volume of their mass.

You see no signs of their bioluminescent glow. But how are you to know that they cannot simply deactivate their lures?

They get close enough to the surface of their home to tease you with the idea of consumption. All without ever daring to breach the surface of their home to actively try to harm you.

You cannot call that instinct.

A hungry predator will instinctively do anything in its power to obtain food. And though you are small, you are many times the size of most of the fish that you have seen get trapped in the murk. Which means that you would be well worth whatever effort it took to snatch you and drag you down.

No.

Their refusal to move beyond their territory was not instinct.

It was intellect. And that, somehow, made them all the more terrifying.

Because it meant that they could potentially study you, the way that you attempt to study them.

With you in their domain, there is nothing preventing them from charging in and ripping you to pieces. There is nothing to discourage them from claiming what would undoubtedly be a very easy kill.

Yet you have seen no signs of them. Though your lights are on and you are desperate to catch a glimpse of something, anything, all that you can see is the murk.

The murk and the reflection of your lights.

You only have the cautious warning of your AI to establish that the Leviathans are still around.

Waiting. Watching.

Contemplating, perhaps, what they will do with you.

Eventually, you reach the bottom of the murk. Where, surprisingly, you find it easier to move.

The water at the bottom is normal. The darkness that surrounds you is artificial; created by the sea of biofluid that surrounds you on nearly all sides.

Your lights work. You can see the sandy floor of the ocean. You can see the rocks. You can see your flipper-clad feet as you cautiously move along the floor.

Had you known that the bottom was so much easier to traverse, then you would have attempted to find your way down and around so that you could move quicker.

Hindsight, however, is always 20/20. You will just have to take this lesson to heart and hope that you can live long enough to utilize it in the future, should the need arise.

“Warning! Leviathan class lifeform detected in the immediate area! Please proceed with caution.”

The automated voice sounds off the instant that you happen across the wreckage that you have been in search of.

Startled, you pause for a moment to take a tentative look around. Not that doing so does much for you.

You see the sand. And the rocks. And then nothing but the living darkness that surrounds your every possible means of escape.

Adrenaline floods your system as you cautiously pull out your scanner so that you can scan the wreckage. Of which there are four pieces in total, each belonging to the same construct.

A space grade rocket. The only thing that you could manufacture that would be powerful enough to help a spacecraft escape the gravitational pull of a planet.

Without it, you will be stranded here. Possibly indefinitely.

Smart as you are, you are not intelligent enough to design an entire rocket from the ground up.

No. You need blueprints. These blueprints. Which you have braved the terrors of the abyss in order to obtain.

You scan the first chunk of wreckage without issue.

Then likewise with the second. There are no issues. No signs of danger. No signs of anything around you that is alive.

“Warning!”

The AI starts up again as you begin to scan the third pile of wreckage. Though you fail to focus on any aspect of what it says, beyond that initial alert phrase. Because you can see exactly what it is that you are being warned about.

Just a few inches above your head, the murk comes to live with a vibrant glow. Like headlights breaking through the fog, the bioluminescent spots lining the Leviathan become painfully visible.

Twisting. Bending. From where you are now, you finally have the ability to grasp at the sheer size and length of this absolutely massive entity. Which is many, many times longer than you are tall.

You are the fish.

Small and uniform.

This thing, circling above you. It is the eel. At least in the way that your body compares to it.

Worse still. This creature is deathly silent. Even as it effortlessly swims about in the murk that floats just a hands length beyond the top of your head.

You can hear your heart pounding in your chest.

You can hear the blood rushing through your veins as the fight or flight impulse begins to rear its ugly head.

Three of the four scans complete. You need only scan one more. Then you can make a break for it and never have to return to this wretched biome.

You keep your eyes locked on the twisting mass of lights that go about their business above you. All the while you struggle to keep your hand as steady as possible while you attempt to scan the final pile of debris.

The last piece of the blueprint that stands between you and your true escape from this vile planet.

Scan it and go.

That is your only thought process. To hurry up and scan it then pick a random direction and hope that you can follow it out of the murk.

You might not be able to outrun that Leviathan if you stick as low as you are. But you know that you definitely won’t be able to make an escape if you try to push yourself up through the sea of living liquid.

Movement catches your eye though. And when it does, you realize what it was that your computer system was trying to warn you about.

The sand around you begins to stir. As does the sand all around the sunken wreckage as the hidden predator makes its rapid appearance.

Not one Leviathan. But two. One above you and one hidden beneath your feet.

You’re trapped.

Fight or flight kicks in.

You kick your legs to push yourself back as the buried Leviathan reveals itself to you.

Four red eyes lock on your frame.

Deep blue scales become illuminated by shimmering yellow markings as the behemoth activates its bioluminescence.

It really is like an eel. An abysmally long, twisted eel. Alien and somehow just human enough to really make your heart sink into your stomach.

It has arms. With hands. Fingers armed with hooked, talon-like claws. Not to mention its face.

Strangely anthropomorphic. Almost human. With distinct lips and the faintest of nasal structures.

Distracted and frantic, you unwittingly back into the twisting tail of the creature; which smiles at you in response.

And it is not a friendly smile.

Time suddenly seems to slow down.

You watch as a long tongue flicks past the creature’s lips to lap at the corner of its mouth.

You see the faintest narrowing of its four glowing, red eyes. Pupils briefly shrink and then quickly expand, sucking in as much light as possible as the predator singles in on you.

Muscles tense. You see it just as well as you feel it.

Then comes the lunge. Which you only narrowly manage to avoid by the skin of your teeth.

The beast manages to rip off the bottom inch of one of your flippers. But as you watch the unholy creature blunder and sink its teeth into the flesh of its own tail, you know that you should count yourself lucky.

Blood floods the water around you. Thick and green. Though you know that in reality, it must be very, very red.

Light doesn’t reach deep enough for you to be able to perceive red as red.

For the first time, you hear the monster make a sound.

It is a horrible, reverberating roar. One that makes the water around you almost vibrate from the strength of the sound that is being forced through it.

You try to swim back. But no amount of reaction time is going to protect you from what transpires.

Alert and angry, the Leviathan twists back around to lunge at you again. And this time, its massive jaws find their way around you.

The pain hits immediately. Though it is largely numbed by the adrenaline coursing through your system.

Teeth manage to pierce your wetsuit. Which in turn means that these large, lethal fangs are pressed deeply into the flesh around your thigh, hip, and abdomen.

You react quickly and blindly, by trying to blind the creature.

You slam your balled fist into its open eye, which is sorely lacking in any defensive adaptations.

The soft optic has a fair amount of give. And you hit it as hard as you can, prompting the beast to hastily close the two eyes on that side of its face.

What happens next is a blurr.

You get shaken around like a rag doll.

Jaws clamp down and something inside of you definitely breaks. You think that it is your pelvis. But it may very well be your leg. Or possibly, both.

You continue to slam your arm down into the beast’s eye with as much force as you can manage. You open your fist and curl your fingers and attempt to gouge out the Leviathan’s eye as it charges through the murk with you trapped in its mouth.

All that you can hear is the sound of running water as the creature continues to lunge about with you trapped in its jaws.

All that you can feel is the sting and the pressure of its bite, and the soft texture of its eyes as you continue with your efforts to gouge them.

Eventually, you must do some damage. Maybe nothing permanent. But something worthwhile that convinces the beast that you’re not worth the effort as a meal.

It spits you out.

Momentum carries you backwards even as the Leviathan turns tail to retreat. But you are not safe.

It uses its tail to smack you away further, relying on the size of its body to better break and disorient you.

You kick your legs with all the force that you can muster.

It hurts.

Your wounds burn. It feels like burning hot alcohol is being poured directly into every puncture on your body.

The leg that had known the feel of crushing fangs can hardly find the strength to move. And yet you still coerce it to do so.

You’re back up in the murk. Surrounded by a living abyss that wraps around you and further impedes your movements. But you fight against it, fueled by adrenaline and a desperation to not die here of all places.

The Leviathans haven’t left you.

They circle all around you. Visible only by their glowing markings as they twist and turn about effortlessly; agitated and likely prepared to attack again.

You can do nothing but swim back. Slow and agonizing as the process is, you must fight on until the very last of your strength has left you.

One of the monsters roars again. The sound feels as though it rattles the very foundation of your skeleton. And though it hurts, you continue to kick your legs.

Kick.

KICK.

That is all that you can do, even as you watch the glowing markings shift so that one of the creatures can lunge for you again.

Kick!

With everything you have left, you have to kick! You cannot fall here, in this wretched sea of all consuming darkness.

You watch as the creature effortlessly breaks the distance between you, until -

Suddenly light stings your eyes as your head breaches the surface of the murky water. And like a fool, you allow yourself to feel that rush of relief as you continue to push yourself beyond its embrace.

The Leviathans have never breached their territory before.

Surely, you are -

Far from safe.

The nearly human face of the Leviathan bursts past the blanket of darkness, jaws impossibly wide and gnashing fangs on full display.

Nothing short of divine intervention could save you now. And after spending so long on this hellish world, you have long since concluded that God has abandoned you.

Your legs disappear into the gaping maw of the beast.

Sharp teeth catch against your suit and rake forcefully up your lower back, before powerful jaws snap shut.

You hear your ribs break.

Not from the bite. But from the force of the momentum compressing your feeble human body as you suddenly go from near stationary to an incredibly high speed.

Blood floods the waters beyond the abyss as the Leviathan secures its kill.

Light flickers and quickly fades, and you don’t even know for certain if that is because death has taken you, or if the Leviathan has quickly turned around to pull you back into the murk.

Briefly, the jaws loosen.

You don’t feel your legs anymore. Though you still try to kick, out of desperation.

The teeth return, and you feel a brief pressure around your head before -

You suck in that first breath after being ejected from the cloning pod.

Weeks of gestation have passed in what only feels like an instant as your consciousness struggles to process the memories which have been uploaded into it. Memories of your previous self. Desperate and in pain as yet another horrific sea monster devours you in gruesome fashion.

Naked and very much in shock, you stumble to your feet and stagger around as robotic limbs guide you along your way.

Rebirth is never easy.

Nor is it worth confronting the fresh hell that it creates.

Trapped here on this world, doomed to be reborn time and time again. Aging just a little more between each destruction and knowing that eventually the time will come where you just become destined to a drawn out decay as old age inevitably claims you.

The lift support systems can only do what they’ve been told to do. And they’ve been told to keep you alive. Even at the detriment of your own psyche.

You lack the rank to convince it to do otherwise. And you lack the mental fortitude that it would take to destroy the system.

Some part of you is still desperate to live, despite having been shown time and time again just how brutal death can be.

You stagger and shake as you climb up onto the medical bed to begin treatment for your lingering shock. This will be your home for the next period of time, amounting to hours or even days as your brain figures out that it is no longer trapped in a body that has been destroyed.

This is your life.

This is your future if you fail to take action.

Only three options. Destroy your life support and let your death take you, submit yourself to the perpetual cycle of death and rebirth, or get off of this wretched abomination of a world.

You’re too much of a coward, or maybe have too much pride to pick the first. It is suicide.

The second terrifies and depresses you.

Ergo, you can only desperately work towards the third. Even if it means knowing that you may very well have to venture back into the murk in order to reclaim what was lost.

You failed to scan all four pieces of wreckage.

The blueprint hasn’t been completed.

You have little choice but to go back.

Eventually.

[springfallendeer]

Into the Murk

Subnautica inspired (one-shot) in which you as the reader are stranded on the planet and are desperate to reach and scan some wreckage. All the while you soak in the agony that is your predicament.

“Warning! Multiple Leviathan class lifeforms detected!”

The automated voice speaks loudly in your ears as you make your slow and tedious descent into the murk waiting below.

The water here is thick.

Thicker than the water just overhead. The water that still knows the pleasant embrace of sunlight.

The water that generally keeps these giants of the deep at bay while you go about your important, daily tasks.

They thrive in the deep. Where it is dark. Where their vibrant, glowing markings can act as lures for the unsuspecting creatures that find themselves trapped down in the murk.

You have seen them. Glimpses of them, at least.

There are two. Possibly three to have claimed this particular swathe of territory as their primary hunting ground.

One is more vibrant, with hues of yellow and orange spread across their scaly hide.

The other comes across as more tranquil. Colored mostly blue, with silverish markings.

The third - if there even is a third one - you have yet to catch a proper glimpse of. It has never broken past this blanket of blackened water in order to reveal itself to the surface. You have only ever seen the ripples form along the surface of this underwater abyss as it teases you with its presence. Like a monster lurking just behind a veil of smoke; distorting the cloud with its movements yet never properly revealing itself to its potential prey.

They do not hunt beyond the black. This strange sea within the sea, where the water has been made dense by the presence of thousands of distinct microorganisms. All of which thrive here, for one reason or another, but quickly die if pulled just a few feet higher.

Water samples quickly self-destruct. Millions of microorganisms trapped within the supposed safety of a test tube rapidly perish, and their tiny corpses sink to the bottom of the vial to create a pool of darkness.

Anything from the pressure in the water to the intensity of the light could be the culprit. But the fact remains that this sunken abyss is a terrifying, yet alluring anomaly.

One which you must reluctantly explore if you wish to ever find the means of escaping this hostile alien world.

Your scanners can detect it. Vital mechanical components that have sunk down into the briny depths to slowly waste away.

You must recover these components quickly. Either salvage them directly or scan them with your computer in order to manufacture a blueprint that will allow you to recreate what you do not have.

Without access to these parts, any chance of building a vessel capable of breaking free of the planet's gravitational pull is completely lost.

You have to do this.

You have to brave these unexplored depths and chance an encounter with these strange, otherworldly predators, all in the hopes of obtaining the means of freeing yourself from this horrid place.

“Are you sure that whatever you’re doing is worth it?”

The computerized voice inquires as you take one last glance up into the brighter waters.

One last glance up at the light of the sun, before you fully descend into this murky abyss to make a desperate rush towards your only possible means of salvation.

“No.”

You eventually reply, speaking not to the AI that has addressed you, but to yourself.

There is no telling what waits for you down here.

No telling how many hostile, opportunistic predators are eagerly watching and waiting for you to make the mistake and venture down into their domain.

What you might think of as two or three hungry Leviathans could be dozens of them, clustered together like a swarm of eels, waiting to each get a taste of anything that could even be remotely thought of as food.

The darkness envelopes you and it feels as though you’ve just submerged yourself into a pool of syrup.

The water is thick.

Because most of what you’re in, isn’t even water.

You’re swimming in a living cloud of microorganisms. Clustered together and suspended with what could only be a few sparse molecules of liquid between them.

Every movement is a struggle to fight against them. The sea of murkish life pulls at your body on all sides. And due to your inability to properly study any of these microscopic creatures, you have no means of knowing for certain if this difficult movement is merely a byproduct of moving through them, or the proof of something more sinister.

This could be a sea of predatory organisms, for all that you know. A carnivorous hivemind that attempts to capture living prey only to come together as a unit to digest anything that it can successfully restrain.

The Leviathans could be specially adapted predators that work in symbiosis with the murk. Large and powerful and therefore perfectly capable of crippling or even killing more substantial food sources.

The Leviathans get a meal and the scraps left behind from the carnage could feed the abyss.

This is, of course, speculation. You have no proof. Your anxiety has burst through to the surface and your brain is conjuring up the worst possible explanation to your predicament.

The assumptions are unfounded.

But that doesn’t stop your brain from snatching hold of the idea and running with it.

There is no proof that the murk seeks to devour you.

You also do not have any proof to the contrary. Which is what makes this unpleasant adventure all the more terror inducing.

Every motion is a struggle.

You move and the murk quickly closes in to seal the space left behind.

You are not swimming. Swimming involves momentum though the water, which generally allows most things to move through it with relative ease. And you, in particular, are equipped with supplies that make traversing this hostile ocean a breeze.

This is not swimming.

You are pulling yourself through the thick, syrupy substance that is the living abyss.

The murk is so dense and full of drag that so long as you can work through the tedious process of sifting through it, you can continue to move. But as soon as that movement stops, so does everything around you.

You will not float if you stop moving. You will be suspended in a living biofluid. All the while you will be trapped in the presence of multiple Leviathan class entities that, for whatever reason, are able to move through this thick substance as effortlessly as the more traditional fish move through the normal water.

Minutes pass.

Your only focus is the descent.

Down. Down. Down.

You must pull yourself deep, deep down into the depths of this abyss in hopes of locating the wreckage that you must salvage in order to further your plans to escape.

All the while you must work against your anxiety as you do what must be done.

It is quiet here.

So deathly, eerily quiet.

The substance around you doesn’t make a sound as you push through it.

But your body does.

Your suit does.

Which only adds to your unease.

What if the Leviathans can move silently through the murk?

You have never heard them make a sound.

Not a roar. Not a growl. Not a hiss.

You have only ever been able to track them based upon their movements near the surface of the abyssal sea, when their activity can be easily observed. Like that of an insect tunneling near the surface of the sand. They distort the bioliquid that they inhabit with their every movement, disrupting it with the sheer volume of their mass.

You see no signs of their bioluminescent glow. But how are you to know that they cannot simply deactivate their lures?

They get close enough to the surface of their home to tease you with the idea of consumption. All without ever daring to breach the surface of their home to actively try to harm you.

You cannot call that instinct.

A hungry predator will instinctively do anything in its power to obtain food. And though you are small, you are many times the size of most of the fish that you have seen get trapped in the murk. Which means that you would be well worth whatever effort it took to snatch you and drag you down.

No.

Their refusal to move beyond their territory was not instinct.

It was intellect. And that, somehow, made them all the more terrifying.

Because it meant that they could potentially study you, the way that you attempt to study them.

With you in their domain, there is nothing preventing them from charging in and ripping you to pieces. There is nothing to discourage them from claiming what would undoubtedly be a very easy kill.

Yet you have seen no signs of them. Though your lights are on and you are desperate to catch a glimpse of something, anything, all that you can see is the murk.

The murk and the reflection of your lights.

You only have the cautious warning of your AI to establish that the Leviathans are still around.

Waiting. Watching.

Contemplating, perhaps, what they will do with you.

Eventually, you reach the bottom of the murk. Where, surprisingly, you find it easier to move.

The water at the bottom is normal. The darkness that surrounds you is artificial; created by the sea of biofluid that surrounds you on nearly all sides.

Your lights work. You can see the sandy floor of the ocean. You can see the rocks. You can see your flipper-clad feet as you cautiously move along the floor.

Had you known that the bottom was so much easier to traverse, then you would have attempted to find your way down and around so that you could move quicker.

Hindsight, however, is always 20/20. You will just have to take this lesson to heart and hope that you can live long enough to utilize it in the future, should the need arise.

“Warning! Leviathan class lifeform detected in the immediate area! Please proceed with caution.”

The automated voice sounds off the instant that you happen across the wreckage that you have been in search of.

Startled, you pause for a moment to take a tentative look around. Not that doing so does much for you.

You see the sand. And the rocks. And then nothing but the living darkness that surrounds your every possible means of escape.

Adrenaline floods your system as you cautiously pull out your scanner so that you can scan the wreckage. Of which there are four pieces in total, each belonging to the same construct.

A space grade rocket. The only thing that you could manufacture that would be powerful enough to help a spacecraft escape the gravitational pull of a planet.

Without it, you will be stranded here. Possibly indefinitely.

Smart as you are, you are not intelligent enough to design an entire rocket from the ground up.

No. You need blueprints. These blueprints. Which you have braved the terrors of the abyss in order to obtain.

You scan the first chunk of wreckage without issue.

Then likewise with the second. There are no issues. No signs of danger. No signs of anything around you that is alive.

“Warning!”

The AI starts up again as you begin to scan the third pile of wreckage. Though you fail to focus on any aspect of what it says, beyond that initial alert phrase. Because you can see exactly what it is that you are being warned about.

Just a few inches above your head, the murk comes to live with a vibrant glow. Like headlights breaking through the fog, the bioluminescent spots lining the Leviathan become painfully visible.

Twisting. Bending. From where you are now, you finally have the ability to grasp at the sheer size and length of this absolutely massive entity. Which is many, many times longer than you are tall.

You are the fish.

Small and uniform.

This thing, circling above you. It is the eel. At least in the way that your body compares to it.

Worse still. This creature is deathly silent. Even as it effortlessly swims about in the murk that floats just a hands length beyond the top of your head.

You can hear your heart pounding in your chest.

You can hear the blood rushing through your veins as the fight or flight impulse begins to rear its ugly head.

Three of the four scans complete. You need only scan one more. Then you can make a break for it and never have to return to this wretched biome.

You keep your eyes locked on the twisting mass of lights that go about their business above you. All the while you struggle to keep your hand as steady as possible while you attempt to scan the final pile of debris.

The last piece of the blueprint that stands between you and your true escape from this vile planet.

Scan it and go.

That is your only thought process. To hurry up and scan it then pick a random direction and hope that you can follow it out of the murk.

You might not be able to outrun that Leviathan if you stick as low as you are. But you know that you definitely won’t be able to make an escape if you try to push yourself up through the sea of living liquid.

Movement catches your eye though. And when it does, you realize what it was that your computer system was trying to warn you about.

The sand around you begins to stir. As does the sand all around the sunken wreckage as the hidden predator makes its rapid appearance.

Not one Leviathan. But two. One above you and one hidden beneath your feet.

You’re trapped.

Fight or flight kicks in.

You kick your legs to push yourself back as the buried Leviathan reveals itself to you.

Four red eyes lock on your frame.

Deep blue scales become illuminated by shimmering yellow markings as the behemoth activates its bioluminescence.

It really is like an eel. An abysmally long, twisted eel. Alien and somehow just human enough to really make your heart sink into your stomach.

It has arms. With hands. Fingers armed with hooked, talon-like claws. Not to mention its face.

Strangely anthropomorphic. Almost human. With distinct lips and the faintest of nasal structures.

Distracted and frantic, you unwittingly back into the twisting tail of the creature; which smiles at you in response.

And it is not a friendly smile.

Time suddenly seems to slow down.

You watch as a long tongue flicks past the creature’s lips to lap at the corner of its mouth.

You see the faintest narrowing of its four glowing, red eyes. Pupils briefly shrink and then quickly expand, sucking in as much light as possible as the predator singles in on you.

Muscles tense. You see it just as well as you feel it.

Then comes the lunge. Which you only narrowly manage to avoid by the skin of your teeth.

The beast manages to rip off the bottom inch of one of your flippers. But as you watch the unholy creature blunder and sink its teeth into the flesh of its own tail, you know that you should count yourself lucky.

Blood floods the water around you. Thick and green. Though you know that in reality, it must be very, very red.

Light doesn’t reach deep enough for you to be able to perceive red as red.

For the first time, you hear the monster make a sound.

It is a horrible, reverberating roar. One that makes the water around you almost vibrate from the strength of the sound that is being forced through it.

You try to swim back. But no amount of reaction time is going to protect you from what transpires.

Alert and angry, the Leviathan twists back around to lunge at you again. And this time, its massive jaws find their way around you.

The pain hits immediately. Though it is largely numbed by the adrenaline coursing through your system.

Teeth manage to pierce your wetsuit. Which in turn means that these large, lethal fangs are pressed deeply into the flesh around your thigh, hip, and abdomen.

You react quickly and blindly, by trying to blind the creature.

You slam your balled fist into its open eye, which is sorely lacking in any defensive adaptations.

The soft optic has a fair amount of give. And you hit it as hard as you can, prompting the beast to hastily close the two eyes on that side of its face.

What happens next is a blurr.

You get shaken around like a rag doll.

Jaws clamp down and something inside of you definitely breaks. You think that it is your pelvis. But it may very well be your leg. Or possibly, both.

You continue to slam your arm down into the beast’s eye with as much force as you can manage. You open your fist and curl your fingers and attempt to gouge out the Leviathan’s eye as it charges through the murk with you trapped in its mouth.

All that you can hear is the sound of running water as the creature continues to lunge about with you trapped in its jaws.

All that you can feel is the sting and the pressure of its bite, and the soft texture of its eyes as you continue with your efforts to gouge them.

Eventually, you must do some damage. Maybe nothing permanent. But something worthwhile that convinces the beast that you’re not worth the effort as a meal.

It spits you out.

Momentum carries you backwards even as the Leviathan turns tail to retreat. But you are not safe.

It uses its tail to smack you away further, relying on the size of its body to better break and disorient you.

You kick your legs with all the force that you can muster.

It hurts.

Your wounds burn. It feels like burning hot alcohol is being poured directly into every puncture on your body.

The leg that had known the feel of crushing fangs can hardly find the strength to move. And yet you still coerce it to do so.

You’re back up in the murk. Surrounded by a living abyss that wraps around you and further impedes your movements. But you fight against it, fueled by adrenaline and a desperation to not die here of all places.

The Leviathans haven’t left you.

They circle all around you. Visible only by their glowing markings as they twist and turn about effortlessly; agitated and likely prepared to attack again.

You can do nothing but swim back. Slow and agonizing as the process is, you must fight on until the very last of your strength has left you.

One of the monsters roars again. The sound feels as though it rattles the very foundation of your skeleton. And though it hurts, you continue to kick your legs.

Kick.

KICK.

That is all that you can do, even as you watch the glowing markings shift so that one of the creatures can lunge for you again.

Kick!

With everything you have left, you have to kick! You cannot fall here, in this wretched sea of all consuming darkness.

You watch as the creature effortlessly breaks the distance between you, until -

Suddenly light stings your eyes as your head breaches the surface of the murky water. And like a fool, you allow yourself to feel that rush of relief as you continue to push yourself beyond its embrace.

The Leviathans have never breached their territory before.

Surely, you are -

Far from safe.

The nearly human face of the Leviathan bursts past the blanket of darkness, jaws impossibly wide and gnashing fangs on full display.

Nothing short of divine intervention could save you now. And after spending so long on this hellish world, you have long since concluded that God has abandoned you.

Your legs disappear into the gaping maw of the beast.

Sharp teeth catch against your suit and rake forcefully up your lower back, before powerful jaws snap shut.

You hear your ribs break.

Not from the bite. But from the force of the momentum compressing your feeble human body as you suddenly go from near stationary to an incredibly high speed.

Blood floods the waters beyond the abyss as the Leviathan secures its kill.

Light flickers and quickly fades, and you don’t even know for certain if that is because death has taken you, or if the Leviathan has quickly turned around to pull you back into the murk.

Briefly, the jaws loosen.

You don’t feel your legs anymore. Though you still try to kick, out of desperation.

The teeth return, and you feel a brief pressure around your head before -

You suck in that first breath after being ejected from the cloning pod.

Weeks of gestation have passed in what only feels like an instant as your consciousness struggles to process the memories which have been uploaded into it. Memories of your previous self. Desperate and in pain as yet another horrific sea monster devours you in gruesome fashion.

Naked and very much in shock, you stumble to your feet and stagger around as robotic limbs guide you along your way.

Rebirth is never easy.

Nor is it worth confronting the fresh hell that it creates.

Trapped here on this world, doomed to be reborn time and time again. Aging just a little more between each destruction and knowing that eventually the time will come where you just become destined to a drawn out decay as old age inevitably claims you.

The lift support systems can only do what they’ve been told to do. And they’ve been told to keep you alive. Even at the detriment of your own psyche.

You lack the rank to convince it to do otherwise. And you lack the mental fortitude that it would take to destroy the system.

Some part of you is still desperate to live, despite having been shown time and time again just how brutal death can be.

You stagger and shake as you climb up onto the medical bed to begin treatment for your lingering shock. This will be your home for the next period of time, amounting to hours or even days as your brain figures out that it is no longer trapped in a body that has been destroyed.

This is your life.

This is your future if you fail to take action.

Only three options. Destroy your life support and let your death take you, submit yourself to the perpetual cycle of death and rebirth, or get off of this wretched abomination of a world.

You’re too much of a coward, or maybe have too much pride to pick the first. It is suicide.

The second terrifies and depresses you.

Ergo, you can only desperately work towards the third. Even if it means knowing that you may very well have to venture back into the murk in order to reclaim what was lost.

You failed to scan all four pieces of wreckage.

The blueprint hasn’t been completed.

You have little choice but to go back.

Eventually.

[springfallendeer]

I'll be throwing out something for mermay here shortly.

[springfallendeer]

I am perplexed by these results

Okay. More stuff for the in development Isekai AU. Some traditional RPG stuff. An important question-

[springfallendeer]

Y'all really wanted me to bring in the isekai truck, but jokes on you. You're gonna get knocked over by some dick on a bicycle and crack your skull on the pavement.

Alright. Isekai AU (Currently unnamed). Every good Isekai starts with someone dying.

[springfallendeer]

Okay. More stuff for the in development Isekai AU. Some traditional RPG stuff. An important question-

[springfallendeer]

Alright. Isekai AU (Currently unnamed). Every good Isekai starts with someone dying.

[springfallendeer]

Okay. More stuff for the in development Isekai AU. Some traditional RPG stuff. An important question-

[springfallendeer]

Alright. Isekai AU (Currently unnamed). Every good Isekai starts with someone dying.

[springfallendeer]

Okay. More stuff for the in development Isekai AU. Some traditional RPG stuff. An important question-

[springfallendeer]

Alright. Isekai AU (Currently unnamed). Every good Isekai starts with someone dying.

[springfallendeer]

Isekai AU in the works.