The suns crested higher, bathing the alien forest in a harsh dual light. Ethan stirred from uneasy sleep, his fingers still curled loosely around the stone knife he'd crafted days before. Outside his shelter, the world was quiet—but not in a way he trusted.
He accessed the system, heart sinking as he glanced at the civilization data.
Species: Homo sapien
Civilization Code: 89%
Regional Population: 90% → 80%
Ten percent gone overnight.
The number hit harder than expected. A grim reminder: just surviving one night meant nothing. The multiversal slaughter hadn't paused. Predators, exposure, panic—whatever the cause, more lives were gone.
Ethan shoved down the guilt and stood. Sitting still wasn't going to help.
Today, he needed more than just berries and shelter. He needed defense. Resources. Weapons.
He set out, scanning for movement, signs of game. A few kilometers northeast of his camp, he found his chance—a hunched, thick-bodied creature sniffing near a tree stump. Its hide looked like wrinkled leather stretched over muscle, and a single horn jutted from its snout.
Not intelligent. Instinctual. Perfect.
He crept forward, circling downwind. When close enough, he hurled a sharpened rock and charged. The creature squealed and turned, but he plunged the stone knife beneath its jaw before it could react.
Species: Thorned Rootsnout (Non-intelligent)
Civilization Code Acquired: +0.01%
Resources Available: Hide, Bone, Meat
He sat back, breathing heavily.
His first kill.
Not for dominance. Not for power. For survival.
He set to work quickly, cleaning the hide with a sharpened flake, removing the flesh with careful, methodical cuts. The stench was immediate and overwhelming—fresh kill, blood and rot waiting to happen. He couldn't keep it near his shelter, not yet.
Ethan wrapped the hide in bark and hauled it to a small ridge a hundred meters from his camp. He stashed it beneath a rock outcropping, covering it with branches to keep scavengers off.
Later, once the smell faded, he could turn it into clothing. Or insulation. Or trade—if there were others nearby worth trusting.
He returned to his shelter and dropped to his knees.
Time to dig.
Using a flat rock, he began scraping a shallow trench around the perimeter. It was slow work, painful even, but every inch felt like progress. A pit wouldn't stop a predator—but it might slow one down. Or at least give him a warning before something tore into the shelter.
Defensive Structure: Primitive Trench (In Progress)
+0.2% Shelter Defense Bonus
+1 Technology Point Earned
Sweating and sore, he gathered sticks next. Long ones. Straight as he could find. When he had a small pile, he split some at the tips using his knife and jammed stone flakes inside, binding them with vine strips.
Crude, but deadly.
Crafting Complete: Primitive Spears (x3)
+1 Point
Unlocked: Throwing Proficiency (Basic)
By dusk, Ethan had a ring of sharpened sticks leaned inside the shelter wall, a half-finished trench around his camp, and a cache of hide drying away from predators. His muscles burned. His fingers were blistered.
But for the first time, this patch of dirt and bark felt like something more than a hiding spot.
It was becoming a home.
As night approached, Ethan lit no fire. Not yet. Not until he earned that knowledge honestly or invented it himself. For now, he laid quietly inside, a spear across his chest, heart steady.
The wild was watching.
But now?
He was watching back.
The wind shifted.
Ethan's body tensed.
A low, clicking growl echoed from the trees beyond the trench—close. Closer than it should've been. Something large scraped against bark, the noise dragging out like claws raking wood.
His breath caught as the sound stopped.
Silence. Then—
CRACK.
A branch snapped just outside the perimeter.
Ethan gripped his spear tighter, every muscle wound taut as the system flashed silently across his vision:
Unknown Presence Detected
Analyzing…
[ ????????? ]
Something was coming.
And it wasn't alone.