I awoke beneath the canopy of a tropical tree in a bed of soft, dry earth. A warm breeze of salty sea air caressed my face. I didn't have any specific memories from before this moment, but there was one thing that I was convinced of: I was not supposed to be here.

I waited for a few moments to see whether anything would happen. As the seconds passed nothing continued to happen. Nobody came to get me, and my mind was strangely calm with no panic attack or existential crisis in sight. I observed my surroundings while I waited, but aside from determining that I had slept in a clearing surrounded by giant, tropical-looking trees I found nothing to jog my memories.

After a while I decided that staying where I was would do me no good. As pleasant as my spot of tropical heaven was, I couldn’t stay here indefinitely. I tried to get up with a sigh of resignation. Things did not go as planned.

For some reason, my coordination was completely off and it took a few tries to get my limbs to do what I wanted them to do. When I tried to diagnose what went wrong and looked down at my body, I got an intense feeling of body dysmorphia.

My body felt different, unfamiliar. As if I should be larger and stronger. I looked at the underbrush of huge ferns and incredibly high trees. Then it hit me. It wasn’t the vegetation that was unusually large, I was small.

I didn't know how, but I was sure that I went to sleep in an adult body. Now I was in the body of a child. I didn't know how young I was now exactly, but I was back to being a prepubescent boy.

The only clothes on my body were a few thin rags and I was suddenly very thankful that I found myself in a tropical climate as these clothes would not do much to protect me from any environment below body temperature.

I took a few deep breaths in preparation and anticipation of a panic attack. Again, nothing happened. My mind was like a deep pond. No matter how many of my thoughts rippled on the surface, the rest of it remained placid.

Since no reaction was forthcoming and I felt silly trying to summon a problem where there was none, I may as well get acquainted with my new body. So resolved I stood up and began a few light stretches. They came easier than expected.

As it turned out a child’s body was quite flexible. My slight build also made the square cube law my friend and I managed to do a cartwheel when I was bored of stretching. Then I remembered that I was alone in the wilderness and that I should probably not risk my health like that. I didn’t know how long it would take me to find other people, so I should have been more cautious.

Since any direction seemed as good as the next I picked one at random and strode into the jungle. Besides the ferns and a few branches the jungle was thankfully rather free of underbrush, so it was rather easy to avoid stepping on sticks and sharp stones with my bare feet.

As I looked around I spotted a thick branch around my height that was mostly straight. I promoted it from deadwood debris to my walking stick or if needed a quarterstaff. Not that I knew how to use one, but I felt a bit safer with it in hand.

While I heard plenty of animal cries, it was only when the ground turned to sand and the trees thinned out that I found the first wildlife. It was a crunching sound that alerted me to the armadillo-like beast that was slowly eating an oversized wasp.

The armadillo had scales with the color and texture of sandstone trailing most of its body and head. Only from its nose downward and on its belly was softer flesh visible. I thought it looked rather cute if I ignored its grizzly meal.

Even if it was dead now that thing would surely give me nightmares for days. The wasp was roughly double the size of the armadillo with wings that seemed too short to carry such a massive body and giant spikes jutting out from its forearms and its thorax.

Seemingly noticing my approach the armadillo shot me a lazy, one-eyed gaze and then returned to its meal. I was suddenly much less confident in my choice of weapon. What good would a stick do me when even those giant stingers had only scratched armadillo’s armor?

Even if I had half again the size of the giant wasp, and thus three times the size of the armadillo, there was no way that I was competing with those spikes in terms of danger.

Thus cowed I beat a hasty retreat while trying to not make any sudden moves that would startle the cute murder machine. While the grisly scene quickly vanished behind the trees, I was now much more alert. My eyes roamed around constantly to spot any potential sources of danger.

Over the next few meters, my paranoia began to ramp up substantially and I half expected some monster bug to jump down from a tree or a rabid armadillo to shoot out from one of the few burrows that I spotted nestled beneath the tree roots.

I circled around the armadillo crime scene in a wide radius, intent on reaching the beach. At least I could spot any would-be attacker there.

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When I finally heard the breaking of the waves on the shore, I couldn't contain myself and sped up to reach the supposed safety more quickly. Stumbling from the cool shade of the trees into the blazing sun and scorching sand was quite a shock to my system.

At first glance, the beach looked perfectly normal and was even quite picturesque. There was blindingly white sand with the occasional palm tree emerging from it and calm and crystal-clear water that made me want to swim in it. It seemed perfect, if only for a moment.

Seemingly startled by my abrupt entry, another armadillo shook off a thin sheet of sand that had hidden it from view. In what was obviously a display to deter the threat, the armadillo stood up on its hind legs, swung around its little claws, and emitted a soft growl.

I didn’t really want to go back into the jungle but I was also unwilling to approach the armadillo, I tried to slowly shuffle sideways on the beach while keeping the armadillo and any other possible threats In view.

The burning sand tempted me to speed up, but I was afraid that I would provoke the tense animal. When I had created sufficient space between me and the armadillo, it began to calm down and went back to lazing in the sun.

I continued walking along the beach and only threw the occasional glance back to make sure that it hadn't followed me. Every few meters more and more send began to gather on and around it as if magnetically attracted to it, and soon even I was unsure where it lay exactly.

This made me all the more careful about where I stepped and I committed to avoiding any dunes, no matter how small they were. So concentrated was I on the beach, that I almost missed the humongous orange crab scuttling sideways out of the waves and onto the shore.

It waved its humongous pincers in my direction and clacked them threateningly. I stood rooted on the sand until it reminded my feet not to stay in one place for too long.

I once again engaged in the tried and tested method of slowly backing away while not taking my eyes off the new threat and like the others before it this specimen also decided that I wasn't worth the hassle.

Something about its appearance combined with the other oversized wildlife tickled in the back of my brain but the immediate need to get away from it overrode any idle musings that I might have otherwise indulged in.

Luckily something else soon caught its attention. It skittered back and forth in front of a particular patch of sand. I had an inkling of what was about to happen and was proven right when it swiftly thrust its right claw into a nearby dune. Instead of the soft puffing sound that I one should expect, there was a dull thud that spoke of a hard and solid object right beneath a layer of sand.

My previous avoidance of the dunes now proved to be prescient as yet another armadillo emerged, clearly annoyed and with a huge scratch on its back. Its retaliation was swift as its tiny claws managed to throw a surprisingly large amount of sand at the crab, hitting the crab’s eyes with a solid portion.

Immediately afterward it dashed towards the crab with surprising speed and began raking its claws over the crab’s tough shell. The cunning crustacean for its part had obviously only waited for this to happen as it opened its surprisingly huge mouth, spewing a deluge of bubbles on the armadillo.

I had to make a double take at that point as I was quite sure that crabs normally had a mouth on the underside of their carapaces and even then, it wouldn’t produce bubbles like this.

Shortly after, the crab was obviously out of bubbles and once again began raking its pincers over the armadillo's back. This time the armadillo’s softened armor parted much easier, and huge bloody furrows were gauged in its flesh.

The battered animal was now obviously panicking and trying to extricate itself from the situation, but the crab showed no mercy. It clamped down on its struggling opponent with one claw and prevented it from fleeing.

The next surprise came not long after. Thick drops of thick, deep purple liquid emerged from the armadillo’s claws which it swiped across the crab’s carapace. The purple liquid sizzled on the carapace for a moment before the purple color somehow drained out of it and into the crab.

It was all for naught though, as one of the crab’s other pincer found its prey’s unprotected neck and nearly decapitated the poor beast. Not long after the crab slumped down next to the carcass it had just produced. While I didn’t know what that purple liquid had been, it was obviously very bad news.

Internally I debated whether now was a good time to leave the grisly scene behind, but the sound of combat and the smell of fresh blood were sure to attract further predators or scavengers, and I was determined to learn what else this place had in store for me so that I could try my best to steer clear of anything that might not have looked suspicious beforehand.

The memory of the suddenly shifting dune and the swiftly emerging crab were still weighing on my mind. I would never win a direct confrontation with any of these beasts, so my best option was to spot them before they spotted me and to keep them at as large a distance as I could manage.

While the wait in the shade of a nearby palm tree ultimately proved to be fruitless it was by no means pointless. While sitting on the dune, waiting for something to happen, I heard the sounds of what were at least two other battles, one from further down the beach and one from the jungle.

This told me that loud noises were unlikely to startle the local wildlife in any meaningful way and if and when I myself would inevitably be involved in one such altercation I would not have to worry about being swarmed by hungry scavengers afterward.

The second useful piece of information was that I observed that the crab woke up a few minutes after combat had ended, seemingly exhausted, as indicated by its sluggish movements, but otherwise none the worse for wear.

It slowly shuffled over to its fresh kill and then began to tear into it with ravenous hunger. After a few further minutes, the only indication that a battle had happened here were the furrows in the sand and the red splotches of blood on top of it. The crab had devoured every last scrap of flesh and bone, which was quite astonishing since the armadillo had been nearly half its size, covered in hard scales, and filled with sharp bones.

This told me that these animals could take quite a bit of punishment and that it was paramount for me to quickly find shelter for the night, as I didn’t really like my chances in a fight against any of them. While the beach was clearly a dangerous place to be, the jungle looked even more menacing, with its poor visibility and potential to get lost in. I thus resolved to follow the shoreline while hoping that I’d be able to keep myself out of trouble.