Kyle trudged back toward the grisly scene they'd left behind, each step more stable than the one before. His ankle still throbbed when he put his full weight on it, but the pain had dulled to a manageable ache—nothing like the sharp, breath-stealing agony from when those teeth had first punctured his flesh. Whatever this place was doing to them, the accelerated healing ranked high on the list of its few mercies.

The blue sun beat down through gaps in the canopy, casting dappled shadows across the jungle floor. Heat clung to his skin, drawing sweat that trickled down his spine and collected in the waistband of his makeshift shorts. Even standing still felt like work in this thick, soupy air.

As they approached the clearing, Kyle spotted movement around the carcasses. Large, winged creatures circled and fought over the spoils, their bodies unlike anything he'd seen back home. They resembled massive bats in shape, but their wings bore strange, overlapping plates—like feathers fashioned from an armadillo's hide. The creatures' beaks tore at flesh with savage determination, squabbling over choice morsels with harsh, clicking sounds that set Kyle's teeth on edge.

"Nature works fast here," Kyle muttered, watching the feeding frenzy with a mix of disgust and fascination. The creatures' movements were jerky but purposeful, each one fighting to claim its share of the bounty.

"Dinner and a show," Dex muttered, positioning his spear.

Kyle watched as Dex's eyes narrowed in concentration. The spear left his hand in a fluid motion, cutting through the humid air with unexpected grace. It struck one of the scavengers dead center, pinning it to the ground. The creature's wings flapped uselessly as its fellows scattered into the sky, their shrieks fading into the jungle's constant chorus.

"Nice toss," Kyle said, genuinely impressed.

Dex straightened, a hint of pride breaking through his perpetual scowl. "Yeah, I thought maybe the bird meat might taste better."

Kyle nodded, his empty stomach tightening at the thought of food. "We'll cook both. No point in this meat going to waste." His voice carried more confidence than he felt—he'd never prepared a fresh kill before, let alone something that barely resembled Earth animals.

He watched as Dex retrieved his spear, the scavenger creature still writhing at its tip, wings beating weakly against the shaft.

"Hold it still," Dex ordered, his face hardening as he gripped the spear with both hands. A sharp twist ended the creature's struggles

Kyle turned away, suddenly needing something constructive to focus on besides death. His eyes scanned the jungle's edge for materials, settling on two thick branches, each split at one end to form natural Y-shapes. Perfect for supporting a cooking spit. He set about digging them into the ground on opposite sides of their fire, the soil yielding easily to his efforts.

Meanwhile, Marcus collected larger rocks, arranging them in a circle around the flames. The structure took shape quickly, containing the fire while reflecting heat toward what would soon become their meal.

"Nice job," Kyle offered, "Saw this on TV once," Marcus explained

Dex had begun the grim task of butchering the dog-beast, his spear tip slicing through hide and muscle. Despite his dexterity with the weapon, his face betrayed his revulsion, jaw clenched tight against rising nausea. Every few cuts, he would pause, breathe deeply through his mouth, then continue.

The scent of fresh blood mingled with the jungle's perpetual rot-and-growth smell, creating something uniquely foul. Kyle focused on securing the Y-branches, making sure they stood firm enough to support the weight they'd soon bear.

Marcus grimaced as Dex skewered chunks of meat onto a straight branch. "That meat smells strange. You think it's good to eat?"

"At this moment, I don't give a shit. I'm actually starving," Kyle admitted, his stomach cramping with emptiness. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten—had it been that morning before the shootout on 58th? That life felt years away now, separated by a veil of death and rebirth in this twisted place.

Dex nodded, in agreement. "Food is food." He gestured toward the abandoned dog-beast corpses. "We could probably make something out of those plates on its back. Looks almost like metal."

"Yeah, you're right," Kyle said, moving closer to inspect it. The armored scales gleamed in the strange blue light, each one overlapping the next like some bizarre organic chainmail. "I know how to make some basic weapons and armor, or at least I feel like I do. Like I have information in my head, but actually doing it might be a different story."

The meat cooked slowly, fat sizzling as it dripped into the flames. Kyle turned the makeshift spit occasionally, ensuring even heat exposure. The smell gradually transformed from something questionable to something that made his mouth water despite his reservations.

When they finally deemed it ready, they tore into their meal with desperate hunger. The meat resembled nothing Kyle had ever tasted—not chicken, not beef, not game. It required substantial chewing, the texture tougher than anything he'd encountered back home. Without salt or seasoning, the flavor remained bland but satisfying in the most primal way. It filled the emptiness in his belly, and for now, that was enough.

"Yo, we are fucking soldiers and we are dealing with this shit," Marcus said suddenly, breaking a long silence. "Whatever this place is, as harsh as it is, it gave us a second chance."

Kyle looked up from the meat he'd been turning over the fire, fat dripping and hissing as it hit the flames.

"Second chance?" Dex scoffed, tossing a bone into the darkness. "Getting murdered and waking up in monster country don't feel like no blessing to me."

Marcus insisted. "Look at us. We got these... these skills. Back home what did we have? Nothing but street knowledge and bad reputations."

Kyle tossed a bone into the fire, watching it blacken. "Street knowledge kept us alive for twenty-something years."

"And then it didn't," Marcus countered. "We still died."

The words hung between them, heavy as concrete blocks. Kyle felt his jaw tighten. None of them had really talked about it—about feeling the bullets tear through them, about the sidewalk against their cheeks as darkness took them. About dying.

Stolen novel; please report.

"So what?" Dex challenged. "You think this is some kind of blessing? Wake up in monster-land instead of going to whatever comes after?"

Whatever came after for you was hell, Kyle thought but didn’t say.

"I didn't say blessing," Marcus replied. "Just saying maybe there's a purpose."

Kyle wiped grease from his chin with the back of his hand. "Purpose like what?

"I don't know, man," Marcus sighed. "But when I saw those not-quite-human bodies back there... makes me think we're part of something bigger."

"Part of a food chain, that's for sure," Dex muttered, but his usual edge had softened slightly.

Kyle stared at the strange blue leaves overhead, remembering the bodies they'd found. The elongated skulls, the wrong proportions. Not human, but something close. Intelligent enough to make tools, to form camps.

"They died trying to survive this place too," he said quietly.

"Yeah, but they weren't from Earth, were they?" Marcus leaned forward. "Meaning whatever brought us here brought them too. From somewhere else."

Dex scratched at his chin, considering. "Like this place is collecting specimens or some shit?"

"Or testing them," Kyle added, the idea taking root in his mind.

The fire popped loudly, sending sparks spiraling upward. In the sudden flash, Kyle caught a look in Marcus's eyes he hadn't seen since they were kids—something almost like wonder breaking through the hardened shell of street life.

"We got dropped in the deep end," Marcus continued, gaining momentum. "But think about it—in the hood, wasn't it the same? We learned quick or we died. Only difference is here, we got actual powers building up. Back there, all we got was trauma."

Dex shook his head but didn't disagree. "Still some bullshit, though."

"True," Marcus nodded. "But at least it's new bullshit. Not the same old shit we been dealing with our whole lives."

A heavy silence settled over them again, broken only by the jungle's breathing—the constant rustle of leaves, the distant calls of creatures, the persistent gurgle of the stream. Not for the first time since arriving, Kyle felt something beyond fear and confusion taking root. Something that might, with time, resemble not just hope but purpose.

Kyle watched a wisp of smoke curl up from the fire. His mind shifted toward practicality, the brief moment of philosophical reflection giving way to the survival instincts that had kept him breathing in Harlem for twenty-four years. They couldn't afford to dwell too long on what-ifs and maybes—not with a jungle full of killers waiting beyond their fire. If they were going to transform this strange second chance into something meaningful, they needed to build on what they have.

"So what skills have you guys got?" Kyle asked, wiping more grease from his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's given me Spear Novice 2, Survivor Novice 3, Tracker Novice 3. A lot of the information kind of intertwines. Like a survivalist also knows how to track a bit, you know."

"Nah, not really," Dex replied with a shrug. "All I got is Spear Skill Novice 3."

"Maybe you can teach us a bit and the game or whatever will give us the rest," Marcus suggested, his expression thoughtful.

"Yeah, that's not a bad idea," Kyle agreed, seeing the potential. If they could game the system, transfer knowledge between them, they'd level up faster. Survival would become more than just possible—it would become certain.

When they finished eating, Kyle led them a short distance from camp. The jungle floor sank beneath his weight, releasing moisture with each step. He pointed to faint impressions in the soft earth—tracks left by something small, with clawed feet.

"See these?" Kyle crouched, his finger hovering over the markings. "The way the dirt is pushed back tells you which direction it was moving. And the depth shows its weight distribution." He traced the air above the tracks. "This creature's front paws sink deeper, meaning it carries more weight there. Probably a predator."

Marcus and Dex crowded around, expressions shifting from boredom to interest as Kyle broke down the signs. He showed them how to distinguish between fresh tracks and old, how to read the stride length to determine speed, how to spot broken twigs and disturbed vegetation that marked a trail.

Without warning, light motes materialized around them, swirling like fireflies before slamming into their chests. Kyle gasped as the familiar cold fire spread through his veins. A notification appeared in his mind:

[Skill improved: Tracker (Novice 4)]

The knowledge expanded in his consciousness—more details, more nuances to tracking that he hadn't grasped before. His wounded ankle felt even better, the healing accelerating slightly with the skill improvement.

"Shit, man, do you guys want to learn about survival now?" Kyle asked, excitement building.

They spent the next hour exploring the jungle's edge. Kyle pointed out different plants, examining their structures and properties. He grabbed a thick, bluish leaf, running his thumb along its edge.

"This leaf is thick and doesn't give too easy," he explained, showing them the pointed tip. "These are characteristics that show it might be good for creating fiber, which we need for strings. It's time-consuming but we'll be able to make better weapons and armor."

He continued, explaining how to identify safe water sources, how to build basic shelters using ridgepoles and support structures. Dex yawned dramatically halfway through Kyle's explanation of optimal roof angles for water runoff.

"Bored already?" Kyle asked, irritation creeping into his voice.

"Nah, nah, continue," Dex waved him on, but his eyes had already drifted to the corpses of the dog-beasts.

Kyle shifted topics, pointing to the creatures' fangs. "These can be used as hand blades. We just need to shape them with stones, attach them to handles with the fibers we collect."

The motes appeared again, this time swirling around Marcus before diving into his chest. His eyes widened as the information downloaded directly into his brain. "Survivor novice 1," he announced, rubbing his sternum where the motes had disappeared.

They continued the knowledge exchange, Kyle sharing everything he could think of while Dex and Marcus absorbed the information. After what felt like thirty minutes, Dex finally received his notification, the motes disappearing into his chest as they had with Marcus.

"I feel different," Dex admitted, flexing his hands. "Like I've always known this shit."

"That's how it seems to works," Kyle nodded. "The system builds on what you already know.

Kyle felt the shared knowledge created an unusual bond between them—different from what they'd had, but no less powerful. There, they'd been united by survival of a different kind, by blocks and corners and the constant threat of rival sets. Here, the dangers were more primal, but the stakes remained the same: live or die.

The blue sun crawled higher in the alien sky, beating down on them with increasing intensity. Sweat trickled down Kyle's back, soaking the waistband of his makeshift shorts. The humidity hung heavy, turning each breath into a conscious effort.

"We should look for a better spot to set up camp," he suggested, eyeing the darkening sky. "Somewhere defensible, near water, but not too exposed."

Marcus nodded, already scanning their surroundings with new awareness. "Higher ground would be good. See more coming."

"Yeah, and I want to start collecting materials for weapons," Dex added, his attention fixed on the armored plates of the dead beasts. "I bet we could make some serious shit with these."

Kyle felt a strange bubbling in his chest—something that might have been laughter in another life, another world. They were talking about survival with the same practical determination they'd once applied to running corners. Different context, same mindset.

"We got this," he said quietly, more to himself than the others.

The jungle stretched endlessly around them, teeming with unknown dangers and possibilities. But for the first time since waking in this place, Kyle felt something beyond the basic drive to survive—a growing confidence that they could master these new rules, bend them to their advantage just as they'd done back home.