The pleasure of killing the “man” lasted until a wave of revulsion rolled through him.

What was he doing? It almost didn’t matter that the humanoid was only a construct of energy. Trying to drown it, just to see it suffer? Was that really what he was coming to.

He lay there, sick to his stomach, until energy coalesced on the hillside. Seven humanoid constructs formed.

Great.

He lumbered to his feet, shoving his discomfort down. The island was changing him and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

Dakota blinked, staring at the crystal wall, before slumping forward. His pants were soiled. Being beaten to death was actually a worse way to die than by the incineration beams. At least those were quick. This room drew things out, letting the constructs pulverize him for minutes before ending the simulation.

He took in a shuddering breath. It appeared a connection existed between what he was experiencing in the rooms and his real body out here if the pee pooling by his feet was anything to go by.

Standing, he shook himself. The death wasn’t permanent. He was still here. He was still here.

He made his way to the well and washed off, scrubbing his jeans and boxers in the freshwater. Jesus bounced around him, trying to comfort him.

“Thanks buddy.”

He picked the lamb up and squeezed - Tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. He was weary. The fighting was taking its toll. He was an accountant, not a fighter.

“I went to school so I wouldn’t have to break my body supporting a family.”

Jesus licked his tears away and nuzzled his cheek. The action calmed his heart, letting him regain his composure. He was going back in there but this time - he hefted his hoe - he was going armed.

A second circle had appeared over the usual seven on the crystal wall. It had the number “2” emblazoned on it. His fingers traced from the circle he normally used up to the “2”.

A screen flickered to life on the wall to his left. It had circles and ethereal gauges with strange symbols throughout it. The centermost circle is what drew his gaze though. It had the number “23” on it. Why was “23” important? Was it…a timer?

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He wasn’t keeping close track of the days - something he regretted - but didn’t he unlock this place about seven days ago? Which would put the timer initially at “30” which made sense. A one-month time period seemed like a reasonable measurement of time. If this world counted months as thirty days that was.

He gingerly touched a gauge. It highlighted and adjusted as his finger moved. He stopped, afraid he was going to wreck something. What if he accidentally shut down the simulation.

Nope, he wasn’t risking that. He withdrew his hand and returned to the circle with the “2” in it. Time to see if the room let him bring in a weapon.

Dakota appeared on the hillside…with his hoe.

“Booya.”

The hoe proved instrumental in dispatching the first four enemies. He swept it back and forth, generating room for him to single out an enemy and land a few strikes before the others could close in on him. The next seven were trickier.

They circled him, forcing him to use a boulder as a shield. It kept the constructs from striking from the back but it limited his mobility.

One dashed forward with an overhand right. He cracked the hand with the handle of his hoe but had to dodge the follow-up from the other constructs. He slipped left, swishing his hoe in a warding arc. He would die here like last time if he didn’t change something up.

He noticed the constructs were similar but not identical. Some were taller, others wider. If these things were supposed to replicate humans it should stand to reason some would run faster than others.

Dakota sprinted towards the edge of the circle, bursting through two reaching humanoids. He flew down the stream, eyes forward. As soon as his legs started dragging he turned. The constructs were catching up and, as he had figured, some were ahead. Two, in particular, were outstripping the others.

He waited, content to let them come to him.

While the humanoids were more intelligent than the orbs, they didn’t truly contain the ability to strategize. The first two broke off from each other, coming at him from different angles but didn’t wait for their companions.

He didn’t wait for them to realize their mistake. He struck the construct on his left, fully extending his hoe to strike it across the face before whirling it back and smashing the other on his right. This construct brought its hands up to block the blow but still stumbled as Dakota put his entire weight into the strike.

Deep red blossomed on the construct’s arms as it staggered back. He jabbed the hoe at its stomach - getting it to drop its guard - and then stepped in and elbowed it in the face. It fell onto its backside and he finished it off with an overhead chop.

The construct on his left surged at him as the others finally caught up. He sidestepped the lunge, hooking its legs with his hoe. He pulled, sending it crashing to the ground as he slammed his handle into another creature’s face.

This was the moment.

He whirled forward, hoe hacking limbs and bodies as the constructs tried to find an opening.

They didn’t.

He sank the end of his hoe into a neck and then used it as a brace to clothesline another with the handle. One stepped forward, trying to wrap its arms around Dakota. He stepped into it, forehead smashing its nose flat. He leaned, watching a haymaker blur by him and bash into the construct he had just headbutted. It went down, fading into nothing.

He kicked the back of the knee of the construct that had swung at him, sending it to the ground and finished it with a stomp.