In one breath I am sitting in a bedroom under siege by corrupted zombies- I know they are called 'Rotters' on the La Vega server, but I am no longer there, so I can call it as I see it. In the next, I am surrounded by a lush, verdant jungle.

Though I appear to be in another lower-tier server, given that I am still conscious, I feel like I am finally safe. It's strange, I am setting down just as I was in Mathis Micheal's room, and yet the book I was reading just before shifting is no longer in my hand. It must have been left behind to conserve data. No matter, it appears that this time, I have made a proper server shift.

Just when I stand up, when I think I can let my guard down, I hear a loud, ferocious roar in the distance, and soon see a herd of small reptilian animals run toward me.

Why? Why can’t I get a moment of rest?

I start running as fast as I can to the left, with no idea where I’m going or where I need to go.

First, it’s zombies, now it’s dinosaurs. Why are low-tier servers always so hectic?

If the dinosaurs don’t kill me, the terrain will. I can barely keep my footing with the huge roots and knocked-over trees scattered throughout the ground. I am not made for this. I need to find a place to hide. Soon, I finally trip on a root and stumbled down a cliff.

While I can’t say that particularly hurt, the fall disorients me for a bit. When I fully come to my senses, I see a waterfall. Maybe there is a cave behind it. A slim possibility of shelter is better than the certainty of being trampled on. In my current condition, I can’t say I like the thought of possible deletion. I walk over to the rocks below the waterfall and begin climbing up.

The climb itself is not that high; the issue is how small the footing is, making it harder to scale than usual, especially for someone like myself, who is not designed for physical activity. With all my might, I manage to make my way up the rock, and I feel like I can hardly stand.

Even if I were designed with outdoor survival capabilities, the intense heat and humidity would make it hard for me to put them to good use. I don’t think I’ve ever perspired this much in my entire existence. My clothes are drenched, and I already feel dehydrated. I can’t stay here for too long.

If A-crash or the other . . . No! I’d much rather this forest kill me than entertain that thought.

The one bright spot at the moment is that I appear to be safe from the rampaging dinosaurs, outside of the small lizar—

Gah, lizards! Why does it have to be design-forsaken lizards?!

In a panic, I run to the left side of the rock right underneath the waterfall, batting away any small lizards that get on my body, whether they are real or just my imagination.

After taking a minute to calm myself, I lean against the stone wall and slowly slide my back down, where I sit in what I can only describe as an upright fetal position. Damn it, why would I be designed with a phobia for small lizards? I never had any experience that would lead me to be afraid of them, and all it’s doing is hindering my current task. It’s possible that the designers put this into my programming to make me “more human.”

I understand the rationale, but I can’t say I appreciate it.

Enough of that. I need to get a grasp of the situation. I pull out my Port Drive and start noticing that I am still in my La Vega attire. I’ll need to change clothes if I find human SOLs on this server. I think I have an idea of what the dress code is . . . And I dread the thought.

Right now I place the Port Drive in my palm and ask:

“Status report!”

“Current server, 190 BC, low-tier server. Theme, Prehistoric Era.”

“Tell me something I haven’t already guessed myself!” I scold the pendant.

I have been on this server for about ten minutes, and I already want to leave. I calm my nerves and give the Port Drive another question:

“How much time is left until another server shift can be initiated?”

“Two hours and twenty minutes,” the Port Drive updates me.

I’m stuck in this glitch hole for more than an hour! To think being stuck in a “zombie post-apocalypse” server for nearly a day is less of a pain than being stuck in this design-forsaken jungle.

“Can I get into contact with any of the Admins on this server?” I ask the pendant.

“A moment please.”

Music begins to play as if it is simulating a phone call on hold. The designers have been anything but subtle.

After a minute, I hear three beeps, and the Port Drive tells me:

“The Admin closest to your position cannot respond vocally at the moment. They will meet you at this location.”

A map then pops up from the pendant, marking a location to the northeast. Looks like that’s where I am heading next. However, if the location is a village or if the Admin has any human SOLs with them, I can’t show up in my current attire. With a deep breath and intense reluctance, I give a request for the Port Drive:

“Initialize server integration.”

As the process to change my outfit begins, my shoulder begins flaring up again. The pain becomes more unbearable as the slower-than-usual loading continues.

"Abort operation!" I command my Port Drive, unable to finish the process of changing my outfit. This one from La Vega should be fine enough in this jungle environment, just as long as I don't draw more attention than I need to. Let’s get this over with and meet up with the Admin.

Before I leave the waterfall, I drink as much water as I possibly can and make my way toward the northeast area of the jungle. Even if it is unsafe to drink for the human SOLs, that would not matter for an Admin. Normally, Admins don’t get hungry or thirsty unless they feel like it, such as the handful of them that enjoy alcohol. So, why would I get dehydrated? Maybe it’s because I’m not used to the humid jungle environment or maybe . . . Better to hold off on unnecessary questions for the moment.

My feet are tired beyond belief, from what feels like hours of walking on tall leaves and roots. And maybe it’s my lizard phobia, but I feel like I am being followed and have been followed since I left the pass under the waterfall. Dinosaurs, am I right?

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Oh great, first swearing, and now corny jokes? I really need to get out of here. I don’t even care if Mathis Micheals is here . . . Oh right!

So much has happened recently that I have almost forgotten about him. Well, I can always ask the Admin if he’s seen a lanky, long-haired, Caucasian guy in a trench coat. I highly doubt he has figured out how to change his appearance to match the server he is in, or that he even cares if he has figured it out. There also does not seem to be any sign of A-Crash on this server. Not only is this server safe, but I can safely get out of this horrible place without any guilt.

I pull out my Port Drive and ask it how much time I have left to suffer in this miserable glitch hole.

“Two hours,” it tells me, almost as if it is enjoying my suffering despite what its unemotional, mechanical voice would have me believe.

I can’t imagine how the people of this server can stand living in this environment. I am a being that has limited control of the system, and even I can’t stand this. I mean that literally. I can barely stand up.

Gah, I just need to calm down and relax. Everything is going to be fine. You just have to wait it out a couple of hours or so, you can do this, Maria!

As I try to calm my nerves, I walk over a small thin line of wool that I would not have otherwise noticed if not for what comes after. A net then drops onto my head and somehow pulls me up to the tree on my right. This server just keeps getting better and better with each passing second.

Just as I’ve predicted, a group of muscular men comes out from behind the tree I’ve been hanging from and surround me. They are dressed in loin clothes, wearing hoods that appear to be skinned from raptors, and wielding spears.

How did I not see them behind the tree? This server is really messing with my mind.

As the men look up at me, their gaze as sharp as the rocky tips of their spears, the crowd slowly begins to part to make way for a tall, muscular man with a dark skin tone, a wide frame, and long, flowing black hair. The man then grunts and motions to two of the men in the crowd. Seems the SOLs of this server do not communicate verbally.

The two men then drop their spears and move under the net. I can see where this may be heading. The tall caveman, who I assume is their leader walks toward me with a large piece of obsidian rock that appears to be a makeshift machete and cuts the bottom of the net, causing me to fall, and the men below catch me. My luck is finally turning around, especially since I have a feeling I know who their leader is. As I get back on my feet, the leader grunts, turns his head to the left, and nods, causing the crowd to walk away.

As soon as everybody is gone, the leader walks up to me and speaks, asking me:

“Are you okay?”

Of course, I know exactly who he is—he’s an Admin. The system places Admins in positions of power and importance in the servers so as to maintain the order of the server that the system deems appropriate. If this man is the leader of these people, then he must be an Admin.

“I’m . . . fine. Thanks,” I tell him, not even trying to hide my exhaustion.

“I understand, you have done well in making your way here.”

Wow, this man is very surprising. While Arturo Santana and Hannah Zhao were admins that are very . . . appropriate for the servers they protected, this man not only looks the part but there is a warmth to him that seems very unique to the low-tier servers.

“Come, you need to rest. I have many questions to ask you, but I have a feeling you will have plenty of time,” the leader tells me, with a soft, comforting smile on his face.

I nod in response, trying to hide my blushing face.

I have to remain professional here.

“By the way, what is your name?” I ask the man, forcing myself not to look in his direction.

“Za-Ka, that is my name.”

Of course, I should not have expected complicated names on this server. In fact, given that nobody seems to be able to communicate verbally, I should be lucky he has even given himself a name to begin with.

“Now tell me yours,” Za-Ka asks me in a very carefree tone.

“Maria. Maria Izunami,” I answer back.

After the introduction, I hear a sharp cry close by, sounding like something’s last breath. We run over behind the tree and see two of the men in Za-Ka’s party standing above the dead bodies of two velociraptors, the tips of their spears covered with and dripping blood. These must have been the creatures that have been following me since I left the waterfall.

I am horrified by what I have seen. Sure, they have been stalking me for quite a while, but unlike the zombies on Arturo’s server, they are just animals. They have not attacked me or any of the other people as far as I can tell, and yet they have just been slaughtered. I try to look into the men’s eyes, and I see no emotion in them whatsoever, no remorse or joy in what they have done.

I feel a grip on my uninjured shoulder. Startled, I turn to see Za-Ka standing behind me, shaking his head, the same emotionless look in his eyes as the others. Just when I’ve thought I have found a safe haven, I am reminded where I am. Za-Ka nods his head twice and motions his arms to the right. And just like that, the party starts walking to the right.

Za-Ka grabs my bandaged shoulder and mumbles to me:

“It’s time to move.”

Za-Ka, most of his party, and I start walking in a straight line toward what I presume to be their camp, while a few of the others circle us with obsidian machetes to cut the stray vines that may impede us. The group is very well organized, giving the appearance of an army rather than a group of villagers.

The men look like they are on edge, their spears ready and their eyes scanning the area as if they are prepared for something to come and attack them. Given the hostility of the wildlife, I can understand why they would be on guard. In particular, their sights seem to be focused on the trees.

While Za-Ka is positioned at the very back of the line, I am placed in the middle, between two guards. I feel like a prisoner rather than a guest. Suddenly, a rock zips by me and smashes the head of the guard on my right. The guard collapses to the ground, his forehead gushing blood, causing the escort to erupt into a panic.

Za-Ka, with a stern look on his face, puts three fingers up, and the rest of the party encircles us, leaving the wounded man behind. Za-Ka orders me to stay close to him. Seemingly unfazed by the situation, when I ask him what is going on, he just ignores me and keeps staring off into the distance. The already-tense situation is raised to a whole new level. I have no idea what is even going on, and nobody is telling me.

Suddenly, a flurry of rocks begins to be thrown down at us, causing me to get on the ground to avoid them. As the rocks rain down, many of the guards seem to be falling, but I do not see any blood on their heads. However, blood would soon rain over me, and I would find corpses of a different kind of people falling out of the trees.

They are men of thinner build but with similar muscular tone as Za-Ka’s party with large, green pouches on their backs. What truly differentiates them from Za-Ka’s group is the brown paint all over their bodies, like some sort of camouflage. This is like a scene straight from a nightmare, bodies dropping around me, covered in blood, and all I can do is lay on the ground. If the designers modeled the lower-tier servers off of the Judeo-Christian interpretation of Hell, I can believe it now.

Suddenly, I am picked up off the ground by one of the vine-swinging men, yelling, “Yaaaaahoooo!” throughout his swing.

The man is odd in that he is not camouflaged, has short hair and a stubble beard, and with a thin scar that runs down under his left eye.

First being chased by dinosaurs, then kidnapped by strange men. Must I keep requesting to get out of this server?

As exhausting as this side trip has been, I would be lying if I said it was not exhilarating being swung around through the air. The camouflaged men are also oddly in synch as Za-Ka’s party is chasing after them on the ground below.

The men in Za-Ka’s group, which has run out of energy, often just resort to throwing the spears at the vine-swinging men, sometimes piercing their target, causing them to fall to the ground below. I can try to find a way out of this predicament. However, I need to know first why these men have gone out of their way to kidnap me.

Do they just take me as a simple hostage, or is there some other motive?