Upon waking, a classic grogginess overcame him, and only after touching his neck did he recoil and instantly awaken. Reminded of what exactly happened, and his position in this strange room, he carefully listened for any noises from outside but heard nothing.

To make sure nothing waited for him in silence, he only barely allowed the door to open by a tiny fraction and watched as bright sunlight poured in through the slit.

Things were fine now. He had this secure room to hide in from today onwards.

That meant all his effort could go into moving down the recipe tree and finding other people… If any remained with such zombies being a thing.

Interestingly enough, the small oil lantern remained burning as though freshly lit, and taking note of it, he realised that the layer of fluid was still filled to the brim as though unburnt completely. Was this some sort of advanced fluid which lasted incredible times?

Or perhaps it was connected to a tank which automatically refilled it. That seemed far more likely overall.

Either way… wasn’t this room practically the perfect home for now? It was a bit small, but he solved that by removing three of the bunk beds and dumping them outside. Or he could even chop them up for their wooden planks!

Given that he couldn’t craft them yet, it might help him immensely down the line. And that’s precisely what it did. After some easy chopping with the axe, he now had 24 pieces of wood planks in his inventory. The rest of the wood formed 2 ‘assorted wood pieces’ in their own orb as well, but he opted to dump this outside as it took up valuable space.

As for the straw mattresses, if you could even call them that, he just dumped them in a pile in a corner. And after repositioning the bed into another corner, the little room he got for himself was so much more spacious that he truly liked the idea of calling this a home. Yesterday might have ended badly, as evidenced by the missing markings on his left arm, but at least something good came of it.

“This was way too lucky though… How would a normal person survive that? The zombies are easy to outrun, no doubt there, and with these new bodies it’s a breeze to do so. Killing seems suicidal, so can we escape?” He thought back to his journey this whole time, and remembered how the zombies banged on the metal door with great force, there was no way a flimsy wooden door resisted that. Which left a single thought.

The trees! Why didn’t he just try to climb up it and sleep in the branches? The zombies were strong, no doubt there, but in terms of dexterity they were worse than a baby!

No way such monsters could climb trees. He just wildly overreacted and ran through the forest for what felt like hours…

A silent facepalm later, and he decided to hurry up and get proper weaponry or armour. And his idea for that was simple.

Examine this ‘dungeon’ as he believed it was called.

The wood shield and reinforced spear entered his hands, and he lifted the bar covering this room’s door before heading outside to see light pouring into the brick tunnel which travelled deep below. On second thought, taking the cube with him was a horrible idea, since dying deep below might make retrieval impossible!

If that was true, then he absolutely had to leave it up here. But just to make sure, he ripped open one of the mattresses and stuffed it inside before covering it with all the other, closed ones. He didn’t believe a soul lived in this place, but this at least ensured safety.

Additionally, when walking back into the room, he realised that the room’s name had been engraved on the front… Because it just had to be, obviously. The engraving read ‘Slave quarters’, and he chuckled at the ridiculousness.

“Slaves who get a metal door with a bolt to secure themselves in. Does that mean they were enslaved by the owner of this dungeon? Is it even a dungeon at this point?” He wasn’t really sure what the word meant in this sense, since he was merely using the term like some of his favourite games used them.

In which case, perhaps he just walked upon something’s home base or a research facility?

“It should be fine. I’ll pull back if I see anything I’m unsure of,” this time he stayed a bit more cautious after the massive over-exaggeration of a zombie’s weak nature. But he couldn’t give up on this place holding some sort of metal weapons or armour, such things were practically a necessity to survive the monsters.

However, as he began to descend further into the brown-brick tunnel, he realised that it grew darker and darker with every step, at this rate even the weakest trap had a great chance of killing him, but before he could turn back to light a stick, a brick beneath his foot slowly slid into the ground.

He took a few steps back in a panic but hurried to raise the shield. With his head and chest hidden behind it, even if his body took a few bolts or arrows he’d be fine so long as his head and heart remained safe. But no attacks came.

Instead, deeper within he saw small oil holders connected to the walls all ignited in pairs. The result was a tunnel which extended so far down that it frightened him, and on the way he paid extremely close attention to every floor tile and even the walls.

These oil lanterns differed wildly to the one in the slave quarters, in that a sort of ‘L’ shaped piece of metal connected to the wall, with a small cup melded to the end of the piece. In this cup was the signature oil, which he properly identified as being almost completely transparent besides a faint cloudy white tinge. It burnt with a yellow flame, yet no soot came off.

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Naturally, he was reminded of chemistry classes where they all did flame tests, and while he didn’t remember what any of the other chemicals did, it was sodium which stood out way too much.

That very evening, he turned on the stove at home and chucked pinches of salt into the fire to make it an orange-yellow for around half an hour…

His mother was so unbelievably pissed due to that. So much so, that he was barred from using his computer for a whole month, a landmark punishment to receive from her. And while he still chucked salt into fires when cooking in the future, never again did he waste gas like that in her house.

As an adult he completely stopped doing things like that believing it childish and negligent. But now that he thought back… changing flame colours with chemicals was really damn cool.

Oh right, dangerous dungeon exploration. He got side tracked again.

As he continued deeper, no dangers had appeared thus far, and he could no longer see the entrance as the path snaked back on itself twice over. Finally, it opened up to a room of incredible size.

He started at some rafters near the room’s ceiling, but the drop down was at least several times his height, and he tightly held the wooden connections which skirted the rooms edges and descended to the main room below. He almost didn’t believe his eyes for a while as the sight of massive furnaces, foundries, and casts filled his sight.

A massive roller received a constant influx of stone, but the lack of ores meant that nothing ever moved onto the later stages. “But if this level of technology exists, then where is everyone! There should be towns, cities, or at least dedicated villages for this sort of work! Is that… A person?” His surprise of the matter only pulled on a heartstring to wander inwards and find out what was happening…

Or take this place for himself! Yes, his own personal forge!

But below, on the brown stone ground, a figure walked like a human but couldn’t have been further from. Its body was made of some sort of brass, with eyes that glowed with ambivalence, and large gears which protruded from its back. Every few steps, a loud hiss of steam burst out from its back or waist, and it casually walked around without much action.

After a couple minutes he counted three of these mechanical beings, and said, “So… Are they hostile? These are pretty much golems, but how were they made?” The fact that not a single thing in the place seemed magical further reinforced his idea that it simply did not exist, and he was jumping through hoops at how this all worked.

Maybe this is just the remnant of a highly advanced civilisation with a flair for such old-age structures?

However, he didn’t dare go down to that lower floor, even if he saw how a ladder on the other side of the room connected these rafters to it. Instead, the wooden platform covered the room's perimeter and he noted two exits. A room with a similar metal door on the right side and a tunnel leading elsewhere on the left.

Needless to say he picked the room, who knew if a later room would allow him to personally greet one of those golems.

Part of the wood beneath his feet had rotted from disuse, but he quickly skirted the outside before throwing himself into the room. Rather excitedly at that as the engraving on its front read ‘Armoury’.

His disappointment was immeasurable.

A room with dozens of weapon racks, drawers, and entire mannequins, was entirely empty! Every last thing had been cleared out, but just to make sure he even checked every last one. With every empty draw, those hopes were reduced by the second. However, in the bottom drawer of a rather dusty one in the armoury’s back corner, something laid within.

A thick leather jacket, although he believed the technical term was cuirass. As unlike the leather clothing he used to wear, this tanned material was rather tough and did not deform anywhere near as easily. He further confirmed this by slipping it over his body to feel the sections of metal plate sewn into the leather as an extra security measure. By tightening some thick strings which passed through rings on the sides of the armour, he tightened it moderately but to the point where breathing had not hardened.

“This fits surprisingly well… But I guess it was left behind cause no one wanted to wear leather over metal. A weapon would’ve been good though. Or just some pants to be honest. So the draws aren’t empty?” He looked down in anticipation and pulled out a pair of leather vambraces, simple forearm guards which could be slipped on and tightened to the wearer's comfort. More importantly, they thankfully offered some degree of protection to his arms.

If a zombie ever tried to bite, he could use these to block. They could block that, right?

As he held the tough leather in his hand, a moment of stress passed over as he began to squeeze the one in his left hand. He feared it breaking or bending from just a little bit of force, but as it held strong, he tightened a bit more and watched it remain fully intact with ease.

“Maybe the flesh of everything in this world is just way stronger? But plants aren’t included?” While he tried to rationalise this all, a minor confirmation that this armour held up against zombies was all he needed. The two vambraces slipped over his forearms and he tightened their strings after several minutes of struggle. In the process he said, “Why can’t there just be buckles?!”

Eventually he did get them on, and the strange sight of a man covered in tattoos with only his upper body covered came to be. He thought about moving further into the forge, but tried against it until sure of the golems’ hostility. With one of the planks from the chopped slave beds, he waited until a golem passed nearby to chuck it to the mechanical being’s head.

The metal clanged as his ‘attack’ collided and he saw the ambivalent golem’s mechanical eyes glow with a frightening yellow light whilst staring at him. “That looks… bad.” Its yellow eyes switched to a glaring red and the golem dashed forward with a burst of steam from its back to slam into the wall, its fist connected first and the entire room shook violently.

Without waiting to see it repeat that, or even jump up to attack, he ran for the exit immediately. That confirmed one thing. That those machines would absolutely kill him on sight, unless his act of hitting one with a plank actually counted as enough to become an enemy.

Still, just before escaping through the tunnel he came through, a quick look back revealed that the golem had not merely shaken the room with its punch, but the bricks where it smashed the wall cracked apart with a minor indent left behind.

He wanted to say something, but could only think it intently instead. He thought of how the zombie snapped his arm in two with ease, but compared with this golem it appeared like a child’s trick. He’d been so utterly right that it frightened him.

The zombies are the weaklings in this world… He was just below them.

For now that is. One day he’d be capable of killing them with a single move, and the same would happen to those golems in time. And then… And then!

He could make this his land. Maybe even his nation! Since no other humans lived here, was there anyone to stop him?

A blazing determination formed within, and he headed back to the room.