I couldn’t just walk straight into the jungle. It was simply too thick. Instead, I decided to hike down the beach, keeping an eye out for… well, anything. After a while, I came upon a small stream flowing into the sea and used the opportunity to filter some water into my canteen. I’d try to boil it later if possible. For now, I still felt hydrated from whatever they’d pumped into me in hibernation, though my body was noticeably weaker. However long I’d been under, it had left me feeling hollowed out, like I was missing pieces of myself.

The jungle was strange. Not like the jungles back on my home planet. The trees were towering, ancient—easily hundreds of years old. They seemed to just appear at the edge of the beach, as if a child’s drawing of a map had come to life. At ten or fifteen feet up, the trees started sprouting limbs. Yellow fruits drooped down in bulbous clusters, hopefully edible, though I didn’t dare risk it yet. Beneath these giants, smaller trees struggled to survive, their branches choked by bigger competitors. The ground was blanketed with ferns, mosses, and other dense plants. I could push through, but without knowing what was poisonous, I didn’t take the chance.

Eventually, I found an opening—a path, maybe a game trail. I slipped in, senses on high alert. The path was lined with broken branches, fallen trees, and deep gouges in the mud. Whatever had formed this trail was big. Very big. Probably whatever had made that roaring sound earlier.

The heat was relentless. Sticky sweat trickled down my neck, and the insects buzzing around me were a constant irritation. I didn’t recognize any of them, which meant I had no idea what was venomous. I did my best to move quietly, gripping my knife tightly in one hand. I was no master of stealth, but I wasn’t taking any chances. The jungle was dark. Not so dark to make it impossible to see, but dark enough to make every shadow look threatening.

After an hour of cautious exploration, sudden movement caught my eye. I ducked instinctively as something smashed into a nearby tree and burst open, leaving a wet spot. Whatever threw it moved, a flash of bone-white limbs disappearing into the branches above. My adrenaline spiked, and I bolted.

The creature didn’t like that. I heard it rustling through the trees, following me, fast and agile. I ducked as another object whizzed past—a stone this time.

Then, something heavy landed on my shoulder, and I tumbled to the ground. Thin, hard arms latched onto my face, my throat, my hair. Too many tiny hands pulled and twisted, claws digging in. It screeched, a shrill sound that pierced my ears. My vision swam as we wrestled in the mud, its thin arms tightening around my neck. Get off me!

Desperation took over. I twisted onto my side, swinging my knife blindly. I felt it connect with something hard, briefly lodging in place. The creature howled in pain, its grip loosening, and scrambled off me. Gasping, I rolled over to get a look at it.

A skeletal monster stood before. Though small, its glowing red eye instilled in me dread. I focused on it, getting a clearer image of what had attacked me. It was like a monkey stripped to its bones, with four spindly arms and a body sheathed in ivory-like armor. The plates gave it the look of a skeleton. Its face was a hairless skull, with pink, raw flesh where the joints connected. Black blood oozed from one of its eyes— deep sockets that glowed faintly red. I must have hit it there. Serves it right.

I scrambled to my feet, ready to fight. The creature looked at me, then stood tall, maybe two and a half feet, and slowly lifted all four arms. It bared its chest and screeched—a challenge. Fine. “Let’s go!” I yelled, stepping forward and roaring back.

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That was apparently all the courage it had. The little monster spun around and dashed off into the jungle, leaving me alone with my heart hammering in my chest.

I was only bruised and scratched, but that thing had made one thing clear—I was prey here, and the jungle was watching.

Paranoia filled every step of my journey. I kept glancing up and around, half-expecting the monster—or something worse—to appear at any moment. So much so, I almost walked right past the cave.

It was strange, like a massive boulder balanced on top of the earth, not truly part of it. A shallow hollow carved into one side formed a natural shelter, shielded by an overhanging slab of rock. Silver veins of metal threaded through the stone, catching the light and pulsing faintly. The entire structure seemed… out of place, as if someone had put it here on purpose.

Something else felt off about it. I circled the boulder, examining it from all sides. Piles of stones lay around the cave, scattered like the remnants of an old camp or shrine. The silence weighed heavily, but seeing nothing dangerous, I ventured inside. The floor was strewn with loose gravel, but it was empty. Room enough for three adults to sleep comfortably. I should have questioned why nothing else had claimed this as home, but I was too exhausted to care. I covered the entrance as best I could, cleared a space to lie down, and used my pack as a pillow. I was asleep in a moment.

When I woke, bright light was streaming in the cracks in my makeshift camouflage. I ate a piece of the meal bar for breakfast, washing it down with water from my canteen. The filter left a chemical aftertaste, but it was better than dying of thirst. After that, I got to work.

Over the next few days, I began setting up my camp. I rigged simple traps around the entrance—stones balanced on sticks that would crush anything small enough to scavenge the bait. Crude, but effective. Back home, I’d learned these tricks from my father; now, they were the only thing keeping me from starvation. I fashioned a spear out of my knife, binding it to a sturdy branch with some cord, and even made a fish trap in a nearby stream. The local creatures—squirrel-like animals and odd-looking birds—weren’t half bad when roasted over a fire.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. The one-eyed monkey had been shadowing me for days, peering from the trees before darting away. It didn’t attack, just observed, as if waiting for me to drop my guard. And judging by the occasional distant roar, it might have been waiting for something bigger to kill me so it could scavenge the remains.

I kept reminding myself that this wasn’t my territory. The jungle was alive in ways I couldn’t understand, and I felt like an intruder with every step I took. My goal was to gather enough food for an extended trip. I needed to explore further, to learn and understand my place in this environment.

One day, the dynamic between the one-eyed monkey and me shifted. The one-eyed monkey emerged from the underbrush, holding a stick. No—not a stick. A spear, sharpened to a deadly point. My stomach turned as it lifted the weapon, pointing it toward me in a silent warning. How intelligent was this thing? And how many more were there? I suddenly had the unsettling suspicion that I hadn’t been seeing just one monkey all this time. Rather than attacking like I expected, it simply walked away. Was it a warning? A threat? I had no idea, but it scared the hell out of me. I decided this was my last day in this territory.

That night, as I lay in the cave, something else caught my eye. The silver ore in the stone seemed to converge at a single point, a circular hollow in the rock. It looked like something had been removed from the cave, leaving behind a faint network of silver strands. I had no idea what it meant, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this place held secrets beyond my understanding.

The next morning, I packed food, water, and my tools, casting one last glance at the cave. The silver veins gleamed faintly in the early light, as if watching me leave. Whatever mysteries this planet held, I wasn’t going to find them by staying put. It was time to push deeper into the unknown.