The shape rushed him. It moved at a moderate pace, arms pumping in a human-like motion.

Dakota didn’t run. He wanted to see what the construct did.

It reached him and swung a fist. He involuntarily dodged the punch. It was…kinda slow. He wouldn’t have any trouble avoiding it if he needed to collect rings.

The construct followed up with a gut punch and he decided to take it. Better to find out if they had unexpected abilities now rather than later.

The air in his lungs exploded as the fist landed. No special abilities, the humanoid just hit like a truck.

He stumbled back, avoiding a kick. Three more grey-men were descending the hill toward him. Okay, time to see if these things could take a hit. He danced forward and cracked the construct across its face. Red bloomed across the construct’s head, spreading from where his fist connected.

It stumbled back raising its fists in a defensive posture. So they weren’t mindless, they knew how to defend themselves.

That was all very interesting but he had a small problem on his hands. Quite literally. That punch felt like it had fractured a knuckle. He wasn’t about to have a match of fisticuffs with four opponents. He had a feeling they wouldn’t let him go one-on-one either.

Dakota leapt over the stream and dashed up the opposite hill. There weren’t walls he could see, how far did this “room” extend?

His feet began dragging halfway up. It wasn’t that he was tired but it felt like was jogging through molasses. Each step forward was harder than the last. Three-quarters up the hill he had to stop. There might not be a wall, but it was clear he wasn’t supposed to get beyond the edge of the hill.

He would have pushed on further but the grey-men were catching up. They didn’t appear affected by the slowing condition at all.

Fighting all four at once would spell a bad end for him. They might be slow but they hit hard enough to make up for it. He glanced around the valley. The odd tree poked from the grass but nothing he could climb.

A large boulder in the streambed caught his attention. He ran down the hill, passing the constructs on the way. They turned, appearing confused.

He beat them to the stream by a hypothetical mile and clambered onto the boulder. It stood seven feet off of the ground and had a flat spot on the top perfect for sunbathing or fending off enemies.

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He grabbed a small stone from a nook in the boulder.

Armed and dangerous, he waited for his opponents.

Once again, the constructs proved more intelligent than the orbs from the previous room. They split, coming at the boulder from different directions.

He was tempted to throw his rock but he didn’t have the best arm and he would be weaponless. Better to hold on.

The grey-men leapt at the boulder showing more vigour than they had before. Dakota wheeled and smashed the rock into one of their heads. Deep red spread from the wound. The construct collapsed, falling into the stream where it faded into nothing.

A scrape to his left - he turned as a grey shoulder tackled him off of the boulder. They landed in the water, his ribs crunching into a stone. Pain seared through his chest.

A red haze filled his vision that had nothing to do with the room. Spitting blood, he rolled and cracked the grey man across the temple with his stone. The construct dropped to its hands and knees. Dakota bashed it across the back of the head, sending it fading into nothing. The other two rounded the boulder and joined him in the stream.

He front-kicked one to create space as he hurled the stone at the other. It dodged. He charged, tackling it into the stream.

Water splashed as the grey man thrashed. One punch, two punches, three punches. Redness spread through its grey body as his ground’n pound took its toll. It kept struggling but was noticeably weaker than before. Did they react to damage like a living creature would?

Dakota didn’t get an opportunity to finish it off as its buddy looped an arm around his neck and dragged him back. He gripped the arm squeezing his neck as his lungs screamed for air. Desperate, he bit, chomping down on the grey man’s bicep. To his satisfaction, the construct recoiled, giving him time to slip an arm into the chokehold and twist away.

So they felt pain as well.

He grabbed another stone from the streambed and chucked it at the construct he had tackled. It wasn’t fast enough and the rock bounced off its dome. The humanoid, already covered in red from his blows fell and disappeared. One left.

The last grey man eyed him, fists raised. Dakota feinted left, then swung right. The construct pivoted keeping its guard up as his haymaker punched into its arms. It snapped a jab at his unprotected face, cracking his nose. He stumbled, tears staining his vision. The construct moved in, aiming a kick at his injured side.

A growl escaped his lips. He ate the kick and tackled the construct into the water. Let’s see if this thing needs to breathe. He slipped into full mount and pressed its head beneath the surface. It didn’t react…at first. Twenty seconds into it being submerged its actions became more desperate, hands clawing at his arms and chest.

A grin broke across his face as it struggled, unable to break his grip.

“How do you like it.”

The construct eventually fell still, its lifeless form limp in his hands.

The adrenaline of the fight quickly wore off as the pain in his ribs reared its head. He crawled to the edge of the stream and flopped onto the muddy bank. The construct’s body was slowly fading as if it wasn’t sure whether drowning counted as death.