The torchlit hallway tapered off quickly, leading to a cave-in.

Realizing I was at a dead-end already, I huffed and started climbing the rugged boulders.

I reached the ceiling quickly and could feel it was looser than it should have been. There was a chance the whole place would collapse, but my intuition told me there was open space above me. Without another option, I held my breath and dug straight upward.

I prayed there wasn't lava above me.

Luckily, my Minecraft trauma remained unwarranted. After a crushing amount of hard dirt fell away, I crawled my way into an abandoned mineshaft. I could vaguely glimpse old support beams bracing the carved-out walls through the darkness. Forsaken torches slumbered, leaving me to wonder if this was just another dead-end.

Grunting, I squeezed through the gap, annoyed at the bulkiness of my body. My old body would have been able to fit much more smoothly. Then again, I probably wouldn't have had the endurance to dig through the ceiling in the first place.

Standing in the near-complete darkness, I shivered. The baggy t-shirt I wore before my transformation was now tight and stretched thin. Brushing the dirt off my cargo shorts, I quenched the urge to light the dormant torches using my only match. It would probably save my life later—no point in wasting it now.

I fumbled around in the dark; I found a couple of empty old barrels. I tossed aside forgotten and broken tools. Nothing was useable. However, I discovered some flint and steel hidden in a particularly dark crevice.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"This is nothing like Minecraft."

It looked like a squished horseshoe. And I might also be holding a normal rock. I couldn't tell. I was no geologist, but how stupid would this situation be if it wasn't flint?

Figuring out how to use the damn thing took thirty painful minutes. Doing all this in the dark made me terrified of cutting my hands, subsequently losing my grip on my weapon during a fight, and dying a horrible death. Or worse, setting myself on fire.

"Damn my anxiety."

I was trying to do something simple and my brain automatically jumped to the worst-case scenario. I was aware my thoughts were stupid due to the Clear Mind trait, but nothing else could be done. Still, being aware of negative thoughts came with its own positives.

"I could have gotten a torch from below, but no~. Big ol' Zeke needs to do things the hard way. He has to use his big strong muscles and bang tiny rocks together like some old caveman- oh! It worked."

I quickly grabbed the old stick and wondered if it would actually light.

*Whoosh*

"Haha! I'm a firestarter."

The flickering orange light felt warmer than other light. The mild accomplishment soothed me.

Now a decision needed to be made. Do I light the rest of the torches or leave them dark?

I couldn't carry them with me since I didn't have any inventory items. The sword and stupid-shield were cumbersome as is. In fact, should I be walking around with a shining beacon for my enemies to find?

It would be such a waste to put it out.

The damage was done; there was no way I could hide my traces now. Resolutely, I lit another torch. Seeing more of my surroundings, I found some charcoal and pocketed it.

Another problem was the hole I crawled out of.

Nudging a sizeable boulder, I hid the entrance lazily. Even if someone made it past me and came this way, they wouldn't look too hard and would turn back. If someone did find my reservoir...

"I'll just kill them."