The swift water of the Popo Agie raged under the mountain, creating a cacophony of noise as it pushed the limp form of Buck back and forth through the natural cave systems. If he had been awake, Buck would have first thought, “How the hell am I still alive? So much time must have passed since I was pulled into this darkness. I can’t breathe under water right? Wait, am I a fish!?!” Silly Buck, you're not a fish.
Instead, he’d likely unleash a wail not unlike a banshee as the current clawed at his sweet tender skin, tearing it away and leaving a gruesome trail of blood through the caverns. He really did have tender skin. Yet, the most bizarre sight would have been a mystical prompt hovering in front of him, one that he was very annoyingly ignoring. I put a lot of work into it, the least he could do was open his eyes. Its message glaring out in a crisp Comic Sans:
[Hello Peasant, Congratulations. You Have Been Saved. Please Select a Name [00:01]
The prompt ominously declared he had only one minute left to choose a name. How much time had passed since the message appeared? You, the viewer, know it's been roughly ninety minutes, though Buck remained oblivious. Him cosplaying a dead fish and all. He was still getting swung back and forth like some low-polygon ragdoll in a seemingly endless cave system. I found the absurdity hilarious. Hilarious? It was simply a... odd sensation. I enjoyed it. I’d have to experience that again soon.
Oh! They’re not supposed to know that the cave system is expanding yet, Bev! Dial it back a bit.
Apologies, Creator. The countdown ticked on, with water nudging Buck deeper into the maze of caverns. Would this new Peasant survive? One could only hope some benevolent force would intervene as Buck, a mere ragdoll, bounced around like a wet spaghetti noodle in boiling water, losing remnants of himself with every tumultuous turn. 5…4…3…2…1…
Ugh, fine. I suppose I’ll give this guy a chance. Do your thing Bev, what's the worst that could happen?
—-
When Buck regained consciousness, the first sensation that hit him was pain, blinding pain. It felt as if someone had taken a cheese grater to his skin, while a sociopath at an Olive Garden kept piling on the cheese, refusing to stop. His second realization was that he couldn’t see. Was he blind!?! No, maybe…was he…in a cave? At least he had his hearing. The soothing flow of the Popo Agie River trickled just to his right, cool water brushing against his exposed hand. It brought a fleeting comfort amid the onslaught of pain. He felt so weak. What had happened to him? One thing he knew for sure, there was no way he should be alive.
Buck needed to find out where he was, but every attempt to lift his hands resulted in another crashing wave of pain. Every inch of his body cried out for him to stop. The agony was relentless. Each moment of clarity was snatched away as yet another wave surged through him. What cruel god was keeping him alive? Buck tried to close his eyes— did he even have eyelids? He couldn’t be sure. The darkness enveloped him, a thick void that consumed any flicker of light with insatiable hunger.
Buck lay as still as he could, pushing back the panic that clawed at his throat. Gradually, he managed to regulate his breathing. Each inhalation calculated, just enough to stave off the waves of pain threatening to crash back in. He recalled the last memory: that godforsaken sun. That fiery orb of pure devastation. What had it been? It had been like someone was holding a magnifying glass over ants on a sidewalk.
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But he was the ant.
His mind raced with disbelief about how he had escaped that sun's unrelenting heat. The memory replayed in vivid detail—the immense, blazing orb looming above him, its scorching light threatening to consume him whole. How had he even survived? Was it merely luck?
The river! He must have been swept into a cavern! Yet, that only led to more questions. Why was he still alive? Growing up, he had heard the chilling tales of what awaited anyone who fell into the Sinks. Only one path would lead a person through to the Rise. The visitor center just outside touted estimates of hundreds—if not thousands—of dead ends, creating a near-endless labyrinth of tunnels and caverns.
He shouldn’t even be in a cave; he should be trapped against some dead end as the water smothered him until he was just a memory of himself—a pile of flesh and torn clothing, a snack for some passing fish. But that led to another pressing question: How the hell was he going to escape?
Desperation washed over him, and he let out a deep sigh. A chuckle bubbled up; the pain didn’t seem as severe now. That was something, right? He couldn’t fathom how he looked. If the searing pain was any indication, he must be riddled with open wounds, each one pressed against the unforgiving stone floor beneath him. Then it struck him: he could feel those rocks from the back of his head to the tips of his toes.
Jesus, his clothes had, in fact, been ripped off in the currents. Naked and in a cave.
Buck lay there now, a completely nude knockoff of that horror movie bad guy who invaded peoples dreams.
“Frank? No, that wasn’t right.”
He was trapped god knows where in the mountain range he had explored so much as a child. This was it. Acceptance. He wasn’t going to make it out of here. He would slowly become the living embodiment of a festering infection, biding his time until death came. He sighed once more, but as if called upon, Buck's vision flickered with an alien prompt.
[Hello Peasant, Congratulations. You Have Been Saved. Please Select a Name] [-02:25]
He couldn’t help himself. His body reacted, twitching, grinding his already raw back against the cave floor. A few spikes slipped through the wounds, jabbing further into his body. The scream that erupted from him could have rivaled any final girl’s wail. It reverberated off the walls, amplifying his agony and leaving a ringing in his ears. As the ringing faded, the piercing pain began to subside slightly, replaced by a voice he could only assume belonged to a small child.
"Hello, Peasant! I'm glad you survived! Although, by the Gods, you look like a raw tomzi ground to dust by an overzealous orc. You’re still alive, right? Don’t worry! Select a name, and we can kick off your onboarding process!".
“What the fuck,” Buck managed to speak—or at least he tried. It dawned on him that the earlier sensation of a cheese grater hadn’t stopped on the outside. Instead, he sounded more like a bag of marbles tossed into a bucket of blood and guts. Wonderful. The child's voice persisted:
"Ah, I see. Due to your unfortunate circumstances, it looks like you missed the Tutorial. I can’t offer any help… but honestly, my uncle’s an overzealous prick anyway. Just focus on the prompt in your UI, pick a name, and then it’s up to you to survive! I've taken a gamble on you, so don’t let me down! Good luck!"
Buck genuinely believed he was spiraling into insanity. For what felt like the thousandth time, the realization hit him: he had to be dead. Was this hell? Purgatory? Hades? The Duat? No, he wasn’t wandering through fields of grain waiting to be judged by some Egyptian God. He was trapped in a cave with his skin shredded, while his tormentor seemed to be some child trying to get back at his uncle? What had he done to earn such a punishment? He’d never committed murder—just the occasional childhood theft of gum or candy. All kids had their moments, right? And why did the Devil sound like some eight-year-old messing with their older brother’s microphone? Jesus. At least he could inch a bit closer so he could hear his voice better.
Buck let out a chuckle despite his agony. Fuck. Pain. Right. The whole dying thing.
Well if he was gonna do this he might as well do it. Nothing less to lose or whatever. Buck centered his thoughts on the prompt, envisioning a computer interface before him. He imagined moving the mouse slowly across the screen before clicking. The prompt flashed a vibrant green! With a single thought, he chose the first name that sprang to mind:
[Welcome Blackwood to the Cracked Kingdoms! Strive for Greatness and Greatness will Find You]
The Cracked Kingdoms? It sounded like a dollar-store video game he might have played at an arcade as a kid. Buck felt like he must have lost his mind, but while he lay there, the human embodiment of an open wound, something caught his eye. Halfway up on the left side of his vision, the word [Character] blinked in small white letters. Oh, what the hell. Buck clicked it.