I trudged on, trying to keep my eyes on a swivel, but as time passed, with nothing in sight or hearing but a few cute, red-blue colored birds trilling beautifully, I subconsciously let my guard down.

With the tension gone, my brain, the unhelpful creature that it was, began going down memory lane. Running the events of the past few hours over and over.

Who was the Wandering star? What’s their agenda? Also, if that liar Fijan could still give me a cheat even in another world, then why didn’t he intervene when I was trapped, or could he not intervene? Was a Primarch higher than a System hierarchy-wise? Were Systems allowed free reign in other worlds?

What did it mean that my soul was off limits. Heck, what almost happened in that ritual? I shuddered, thinking of what It felt I could have become… or how the ritualists turned out.

I shuddered again… or was I just cold, walking naked in a forest?

Stubbornly ignoring my discomfort, I continued, and promptly stubbed my toes against a prominent tree root. I tripped, flailing all the way down, only for one of my limbs to, somehow, hit me right in the gonads.

Pain… is a great teacher. It brings humility and clarity of mind when it does its work right, and being the good student I was, I’d quickly learned my lesson.

I was going back to that bunker, bash in the head of any potential survivor still in there with my stick. I was going to strip one of the bodies, no matter how disgusting that was, and get some covering!

I turned back, indignation at myself pouring out of my pores, to find a wall of mist a foot away, blocking my way back.

The hell did this come from?! Was this creeping up behind me the whole time?!

Freaked out beyond sense, I about-faced and took off like demons were after me, my stick lay forgotten on the ground. Sometime later, I collapsed on the ground, out of breath, my sides aching.

Once I had caught my breath, I glanced behind me and found the wall of mist only a few meters away. Before blaming my nonexistent cardio, I took a moment to observe the wall, and noticed it swallow up a tree.

It was moving closer!

Slowly…

Am I... out of shape?!

Why this bothered me enough to distract me from the mist wall, I couldn’t pinpoint, but I did realize I needed to regroup. I resumed my run, setting a reasonable pace this time, ultimately making better distance, and slowed sometime later, taking a moment to think things through.

I couldn’t keep running like a headless chicken in an unfamiliar and potentially dangerous environment. I needed orientation…and a replacement stick, so I found a suitably tall tree and estimating how long I had till the mist wall caught up, I scrambled up the tree till I could see above most of the surrounding trees.

Looking around, nothing stood out, except an even taller tree than my current perch, not too far ahead.

Good enough as a next destination.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Making my way down the tree, I set off for my new destination. Upon getting there, I climbed up it and looked around, and immediately, I spied a glint a good distance away. Shading my eyes, I saw tall whitish buildings. My heart beating fast, I scrambled down and moved with new confidence, patting myself on the back.

Of course, such arrogant behavior could only attract Karma’s attention, and like all brats, he called his big bro, Murphy, who proceeded to lay down the law.

I heard a roar somewhere to my right, like a cross between a cat's yowl and the sound a sea lion would make during mating season. If you find it hard to imagine such a sound, trust that I couldn’t either, but the fear it caused was enough to make me pee my pants.

Except, I had no pants…

How a thirsty body could still produce so much urine, I couldn’t fathom, but the mortification from soiling myself snapped me out of my terror. As was happening a lot lately, I ran in the most opposite direction to the sound, still trying not to stray too far from the direction of the buildings.

“Begone, foul beast!” A man’s voice cried behind me.

How cliche can you be, shouting instead of running!

Who would be insane enough to be near whatever creature that is, to the point of yelling at it?!

Well… not my problem. More power to him, I say.

“Aargh!!” The man suddenly screamed, followed by the creature’s triumphant roar.

I found myself slowing down as the man’s screams continued.

Despite myself, I began creeping in the direction of the ruckus, weaving through the trees, reassuring myself that no, I did not have a hero complex. I just needed to see if I could help in some small way. I’d keep my distance, I’d be sneaky-

I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die because of stupidity! What are you gonna do, Jude? Fight a monster in your birthday suit?! What if it smells you?!

I dug my fingers into the earth and began to cover myself with thick layers of damp soil.

Bravo! What if it spies you playing ninja, huh?! What if it then decides you’d be an easier snack than the noisy man?!

I fell into a crouch and began to crawl closer to the scene.

Is this because of Archie, huh?! There was nothing you could do then! There’s nothing you can do here! Heck, you might be a hindrance! The Dogma was for the old worl-

“I’m doing this,” I whispered to myself, “I swore then and meant it. When I wasn’t in any world, it was fine, but I’m here now, and a different world doesn’t change my Creed.”

The noise was close. I crept closer, my body screened by a thick bush. I peeked through…

“Huh?!” I gaped, involuntarily.

I saw a heavily built man in a suit of silvery armor, his helmet discarded on the forest floor, short sword in hand, with half his face covered in blood pouring from his right temple. He was favoring one of his legs, and opposing him was what could only be, a… dog.

Not a Great Dane kind of dog, think the largest a Chihuahua could ever get, and you'll be close enough. It was small...

Was this what I was afraid of? I peed myself for this?!

I was so vexed, I nearly crawl-charged the thing, that is, until it looked my way, probably due to my rustling loudly in the bushes, and I was introduced to the most disgusting… visage I had ever seen.

That’s not a face. That’s an eldritch abomination mounted on the neck of a small dog.

Needless to say, I backed up real quick, fighting off the nausea induced by the smell coming from its maw. I noticed too late when it leaped towards me. My head was dangerously exposed, not that the bush would have been much of a hindrance to this monster.

I screamed, closing my eyes…

I heard the wind whistle, then my face got drenched in something sticky, smelling strongly of metal. A thud sounded before me.

“Gratitude! Valiant man of the soil!” The man suddenly voiced, now closer to me.

“I’m… not dead?” I raised my head and used my hand to clean the gunk of my face.

Blood?

With my vision cleared, my attention was drawn to the beheaded corpse of the affront to nature, just a few centimeters from my face, and looking upward, was the armored man smiling down at me, as widely as a certain green-spandex wearing ninja*.

“I think not, my good soil man!” He answered, "Not unless you're undead. Need a hand up?” He stepped closer, one hand on his sword, the other stretched towards me.

It was a disturbing sight, not at all helped by the blood on his face. I took a good look at him, then I looked at the monster’s corpse again, and its tentacle-mouth-face. I tasted its blood in my mouth, it tasted…

Nausea gripped me, my vision blurred.

I heard a muffled voice, “Soil man?”

Darkness took me.