- Sat Apr 02, 2011 10:55 pm
#6936
[Unofficial Title, not confirmed yet 
]
[Open to commentaries, critiques, predictions, etc!]
If you need me to clarify anything, I will do my best. Though there are certain questions I will not answer.
Prologue
His eyes widen in a panic. He can feel the throbbing of his heartbeat in his head. His limbs are sore and bloodied. The light from the eerie blue sky pierces his retinas and makes seeing clearly a difficult chore. He fixates on his legs, bruised and posed in an awkward and painful fashion. Quickly readjusting to a more relaxed sitting position, he rubs his eyes vigorously until his vision restores, but the harsh light of the skies keep him in an impractical squint. He takes the time to curse to himself about the pain, wondering why he is in this condition. He didn’t think the accident had been that severe, perhaps barely enough to knock him off of his feet. Before he can further reflect, he instead becomes attentive to his returning vision.
He vigorously blinks to ensure he can see properly, and then pushes off of the ground with his left arm to help reach a standing position. With a clumsy stagger towards his left side, he feels a sharp pain in his leg. It hurts for him to keep weight on it, but he is stubborn to continue standing and manages to maintain it. Finally able to focus on what he can see, he observes the view that lie before him, still panting from the ordeal.
What he sees is incredible. The very earth of this land is incomprehensible for him. The word “Earth” is not a suitable word to describe the spectacle that he gazes upon. This place is different. This place is special.
The land, it seems, is made of solid, uniform cubes. It amazes him that something so gorgeous can come from something so simple. He laughs heartily in disbelief at the awe-inspiring cubes that form the verdant, rolling hills ahead of him. The sky is that of a clear azure. A few transparent, rectangular clouds leisurely slink across the vast expanse. An intense yellow-white block he assumes to be the sun stares down at him from its heavenly throne at the top of the sky. Wherever he is, it is the middle of the day and the weather is perfect.
He makes a complete circle to scope the other surroundings, but he has already made the decision to traverse the outlandish, cubed hills that rest ahead of him. An arid green pasture is all that he can see to his left. A similar pasture is to his right but is broken up by what appears to be sand. Behind him, however, is a menacing tower of what he assumes to be stone, topped with a grassy dirt cap. He finds himself very tempted to alter his venturing plans, but decides to keep to his original course and heads onward towards the hills.
They approach very rapidly. Every footstep makes a vociferous crunch; the grass he treads upon seems to be a very hardy and stiff variety. He passes well-spaced trees on either side that have very expansive leaf clusters and branches. Their trunks are a perfect tower of cubes upward, but the leaves give them the vitality and vigor that makes this place so miraculous. He eventually approaches what he perceives to be an incline; this cubic landscape is on the rise as the hills approach. He awkwardly bounds up one level of the cubes. As he clears the large step upward, his leg gives out and he falls quickly to the ground. Determined to reach the top of the hill, he pulls himself off of the ground and continues to stride forward. Shortly thereafter, however, he finds himself having to leap up another cube level. This exertion is excruciating for him, to say the least. He continues upward until his rasping gasps for air convince him to take a break. A quick glance backwards confirms that he is very far up the hill, and a confident stare forward convinces him that there is very little hill left to scale. With one final stride, he reaches the peak of the hill, the pinnacle of his efforts. With the trees nonexistent up here, he finds himself looking down upon another spectacular vista. A small mass of rock blocks most of his view to the front. To either side, he can see the familiar, arid grasslands, but this new vantage point exhibits a rich, blue river running from his right to his left. He is amazed with what this world has shown him thus far, but still is curious as to what hides behind the rock ahead of him.
Still winded from his ascent, he lumbers toward the stone mass. Eventually he is forced to climb over it, this time using his arms to pull him atop the sun-baked rock. He lies down once he successfully clambers upon the rock. Eyes shut and clothes soaked through with sweat, he takes a stretching roll towards the world he has yet to explore. He continues rolling until he feels a sharp pain run perfectly straight across his back. His body jolts in agony; he has rolled off of the corner of a cube.
His eyes shoot open just in time to break the fall with his arms. It is a mere two-cube fall for him, something he is convinced he can now easily climb, but the pain of the landing is still unbearable. He feels himself beginning to roll again as to continue from his fall, but stops himself immediately. His eyes dart over his right shoulder to realize why he had made it just in time.
The final cube of this isolated ledge is the beginning of a tremendous cliff, and as he realizes this, he watches as his leg dangles off of it. Terrified, he pulls his leg back up to fully cover it by the cube. Slowly pushing himself up to a sitting position and careful not to plummet over the edge, he inches his head over the cube to gaze downward at the extraordinary view that had almost killed him.
A mini-lake of the pure-blue water sits agitated at the bottom of this cliff. What amazes him more than the majesty of this pool is the mystical torrent from the waterfall that feeds it. What seems to be four cubes across and a few cubes below him is the waterfall that surges out of the face of the cliff. He concludes that this must be an outlet that the expansive river behind him uses to dump its contents.
Surrounding the lake is a dominion of immense trees, trees that in his world would be found only in the depths of a rainforest. These completely cover an area at least three kilometers across ahead of him. Nothing but the verdant canopies can be seen.
With a sight as inconceivable as this, he almost forgets that he is only inches away from death. With a quick shake, he re-awakens from his trance and climbs back up the rock that had nearly shattered his back. Still, he remains in awe at the green sea of life that seems to be beckoning him. He glances back before deciding to take a moment to fully study the cliff face. A small, treacherous staircase of stone cubes seems to snake its way down the side of the cliff, perfidiously ending a few cubes before the ground is met. However, he makes mental note that should he ever wish to revisit this lost world, there is provided an at least survivable passageway into it.
Elated by the wonder of this new land, he climbs to the highest cube on the cliff and curiously scans the horizons. The bright cube that is the sun to this world has moved but a slight amount from its original position at the utmost peak of the heavens.
Unsure of what needs to be done, he looks to the clouds. They travel together as one and never change course. He is not sure how the clouds behaved in his world, but he is sure that knowing these clouds’ direction would be of much benefit for navigation. The sun appears to be crawling across the sky in a perfectly straight direction as well. He curses himself for not remembering its behavior in his world.
Even with sharp back pain, a throbbing headache, a partially crippled leg, and numerous cuts and bruises, there is still just one thing he wishes for: water. In a small fit of frustration, he wishes he had chosen to dive off of the cliff into the pool of water, but he realizes that he couldn’t trust he would survive the fall.
He remembers the river. It is of decent size and he is almost positive that the water would be safe to drink. His safest option is to double back down the hill side and follow the pastures down.
There, he will find the river.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Much to his dismay, descending down the defined levels of the hill is much more painful than climbing up. Every level downward leads to a botched landing on his injured leg, which in most cases leaves him shouting in pain, cradling his leg. His feet do not agree with him when he tries to continue running past a landing; the one cube fall is just enough to cause him to twist his ankles multiple times. Realizing the recklessness of moving downward quickly, he decides to slow to a careful jog, still intent on reaching the river.
The trees are beginning to gather once again at the base of the hill. Presented to him are the options of turning left to follow the river upstream, or turn right and hope the river continues there. He chooses to head left to find the upstream, hoping that it will be a much more powerful current there. Now back to a brisk run, he tries to take a sharp left, but his shoulder meets the leaf cubes of a tree. He is surprised to find that the leaves might as well be as solid as the ground he runs on, and it knocks him on his back. His swift plunge to the ground reawakens the relentless pain he had felt across his back when he was atop the cliff. After a few prolonged shouts of pain, his determination returns to him as he lifts himself off of the ground and returns to his run towards the river, careful not to make contact with the trees.
Three minutes of running delivers him to the arid lands that nestled the river. He is surprised at how the half-desert harbors a climate all its own. The warm, fresh air of the temperate hillside is replaced with a dry, biting wind. The transition isn’t kind; all at once, the brisk winds crash against his body, slowing his run to a near walk. He looks onward, however, and sees that the grass ahead of him is much greener, and there is a thick wall of trees enveloping the horizon. The jungle he had seen on the cliff is now presenting itself to him. He is thankful he had decided against climbing down the narrow, stone walkway from the cliff.
As he approaches the lush green grounds, he feels the air begin to cool slightly. The humidity amplifies tremendously. He assures himself the river cannot be much further. Noticing that the ground is heading downward and he will again have to descend the unforgiving cubes, he slows to a brisk walk, careful to take his time heading down the cubes. Large trees are beginning to surround him as he continues towards the jungle. The humidity is taking its toll; sweat is again profusely soaking his clothes. Finally though, he begins to pick up the sound of running water. The river must be here.
The trees are becoming closer together, often only having two cubes separating them. The audible rush of water can be heard; he finally catches glimpse of the energetic blue current that he had been chasing for what seems like an eternity. He walks around a tree that had been preventing full vision of the river.
It was stunning. The river carried itself majestically out of sight towards his left. To his right he could see that the upstream continues for at least a few hundred feet. At least seven cubes across and reaching down to two cubes deep, the river flows at a mighty blue current. Blissful that his efforts had finally yielded reward, he heads down to the river to soak his legs and hair. The water is a perfect cool temperature. He is certain that in a world so unblemished, the water would be the same, and so he drinks from it for a few moments.
He takes the time to relax at the sound of the flowing stream. With his mind at ease, he finally notices that the birds had been singing songs to each other high up in the canopies the entire time. He looks up in search of them, but the thick shroud of leaves covers his view.
He still hasn’t the slightest clue where he is. This world is made of cubes, but retains a beauty that is found in its simplicity. It does not concern him that he is away from his real home; the thrill of adventure is something he had been yearning for his whole life. Finally able to absorb the tranquility of this place, he closes his eyes and unwinds as the water rushes past his legs.
A crunch of the grass is heard to his right. His eyes widen as he scans for the cause of the noise. Nothing is found. Sure that he is in danger, he slowly pulls his legs out of the water and summons the energy to come to a stand. He stumbles slightly to his left as his leg complains. He stands completely still in dead silence, waiting for the grass to again identify his guest.
Two more crunches in quick succession. He jumps backward, afraid that the mysterious being will lunge at him at any moment. Searching the jungle floor for an object to defend himself with, he hears the sound thrice more, inferring that it is closing in. Well aware of his damaged physical condition, he realizes that whatever is approaching, he surely will not be able to fend off. He stands still, clenching his fists, prepared to fight even if it guarantees his death.
Through a clearing in the trees, a waist-high, pinkish-white silhouette is seen. He feels the fear overwhelming his body, imagining that this strange body will be none other than some demented creature set on killing him.
As it becomes fully visible, he notices its cube-like body and head. Although it is only cubes, he can tell that this animal is very chubby. Its face appears harmless yet curious. It is a pig.
Relieved, he exhales happily, finally meeting a familiar creature to that of his home world. Though it is a mere pig, he is ecstatic that he has met a living creature to communicate with. He approaches it slowly. The pig stares at him curiously as he closes in on it. It makes no movements, just stands completely still and observes him. He is close enough to kneel down and meet it close to face level. He gives it an enthusiastic scratch on the head before resting his hands on its chubby shoulders.
“Hello there.” He says to it eagerly. The pig continues its blank stare. He gives a gentle chuckle, amused by its harmless nature.
“My name is Argus.” He informs it. The pig does not understand him.
He keeps his newfound companion by his side as he returns to resting in the river. After a few minutes, the bored pig begins to venture back into the jungle.
By the time the pig has left his sight, the day is nearing a close; the sun is close to the horizon and the grass is beginning to become darker. A very sudden, powerful rain unleashes itself upon the jungle. He is not surprised; a rainforest derives its name from the rain, of course. The droplets are the very same chilly refreshing water that runs down the river. Overtaken by the majesty of this terrific rainstorm, he stands up and makes a vivacious yell of triumph into the jungle.
The loud pounding of the rain continues. He hears the very pig that had visited him earlier, but something is terribly wrong. It seems to be squealing in alarm. He listens closely and hears that there are two bodies moving through the jungle. He can only inquire that one, the pig, is being chased, and the other is chasing it.
Frightened for the pig and wishing to protect it, he abandons his rest spot on the river bank and runs onward into the heart of the jungle. His heart begins to race as he searches frantically for any sign of the pig. The constant squealing is guiding his way. The jungle floor is riddled with piles of leaves and sticks and branches of various sizes. He is careful not to trip, determined that he must find the pig.
With a final squeal hinting him to its whereabouts, he finds a perfect, low-ceiling portion of a tree to hide behind as he observes the pig from a few cubes away. Just as he gains sight of it, a bizarre event causes him to shriek in terror.
As he caught glimpse of the pig, he witnessed its entire body flash a violent shade of red as it leapt up into the air before landing back on the ground. It quickly fell over on its side, laying there motionless for a few moments. In frustration, he rushes over to the pig. Just as he is about to rub it mournfully, it disappears as a shroud of white smoke covers its body. He isn’t sure why he feels so depressed; a pig he had barely been in the presence of for ten minutes had just died, yet he could not feel any worse. Perhaps it was that he felt this was his one connection to another living thing, and that this opportunity would never arise again. Almost on cue, though, a lumbering silhouette disappearing into the jungle proves him wrong.
He is confident that this is what killed the pig. He rushes on after it, sure that he would easily catch up to it. Whatever it is, it does not move very quickly, and he knows he will surely meet up with it in a moment.
He clears through a particularly dense cluster of trees before he reaches a clearing. The rain thundering down upon the jungle is all that can be heard now as he stares at the silhouette a few cubes ahead of him. In a disturbing stance, the figure stands completely still, facing away from Argus. He walks angrily towards it, not sure exactly how prepared he is for what he will discover, but sure that he must find out what it is.
Up until he was right next to it, his footfall had been conveniently quiet. When he finally gets close, though, a branch makes his presence known to the figure. He sees that it has tattered clothes, and his left arm is visible to him. It is utterly rotten in appearance; he can still examine through its cube-like frame that this thing is not human. In a final fit of rage, he uses his good leg to kick the creature in its back. When his leg makes contact, it feels as though he had kicked a brick wall. He quakes as the pain floods the right side of his body. He takes a limping step backwards, sure that he has now infuriated the seemingly invincible creature.
It quickly shakes, almost awakening itself. It turns around ever so slowly. As its face becomes visible, Argus presumes that it is some deformed human. A full turn, however, convinces him that this was no human.
“What the he-“ He is forced to a halt. The monster is clenching his throat with both hands. It has an iron grip and he is convinced that it isn’t going to be releasing him any time soon. In a fruitless effort, he tries to relieve pressure on his neck by pulling its arms away. The monster is now shaking him violently, causing him to let out a few audible gasps for air.
He is becoming lightheaded and drained. With every violent shake he feels himself one step closer to certain death. He tries to punch its head, but his fists bounce off of its skull, causing him to realize his true helplessness.
The monster releases its grip for a second before throwing Argus at a nearby tree. The corner of the cubed trunk crushes his back in the same place he had been hit twice before. He lets out a piercing scream as he clenches his back in pain. He does not have much time to recover, however. The monster once again grabs hold of his neck before running him up against the tree. Argus’ feet are now off of the ground as the monster holds him there effortlessly, awaiting his suffocation. He has lost most of his ability to hear as he fades into unconsciousness. With his vision blacking out and his gasps for air surrendered, he feels his body going limp. Just as this happens, however, he feels the monster release its grip.
Argus once again gasps violently for air, using his arms to protect his neck from further attack. He quickly stands back up, noticing the monster standing dead ahead of him. The monster is not responding. It appears dead in mid-stand. A loud hiss from the air followed by a deep thump cause the monster to yell in agony. Its deep voice echoes through the jungle so violently he is sure the trees are trembling. It raises its arm to either side in pain before falling to the ground on its chest.
Argus examines the body closely and finds that there are two arrows lodged in its back. He takes a moment to laugh at and curse the monster’s body. He kicks the corpse in its side until a similar shroud of smoke to the pig covers it. This smoke is different though. It is a pure black smoke. It covers the corpse more violently than the smoke did to the pig minutes ago. After it is completely covered, the corpse implodes in on itself and a boom followed by a large puff of black smoke finish its disappearance. All that remains is a small pile of black ash that has an odd streak of white ash inscribed in its center.
He barely has a moment to ponder over the events that seem to occur when a creature dies when he begins to hear footsteps in the distance. These sound like more natural footsteps, footsteps of a human. He is sure though that if it is a human, it is likely what fired the arrows that saved him, but also that it may not be out purposely to save him either. He uses his better judgment and tries to take a few steps backward to retreat to where he came from, but the treacherous jungle floor causes him to trip. Finally totally doubled over in pain, all Argus can do is lie back as the mysterious guest approaches.
The footsteps stop. He is relieved and hopes that it has left him at peace. He also notices though that where he is seated is a perfect hiding spot in relation to the clearing the noise is coming from. He now observes intently as he waits for its next move. Two quick footsteps are heard to his left. Just as he peers that way, the sees the silhouette of what had killed the monster. He feels tempted to shout out for it, but instead decides to wait for it to close in on where the monster had died.
He hears his guest move towards the monster’s ash pile very quickly. Reassuring himself that he is in a proper hiding spot, he ducks his head under an inconveniently placed branch to observe. What he sees is very strange.
It appears to have the body of a man, yet made entirely of a series of cubes. It is bare-chested and wears only worn leather pants. There are expertly painted red markings riddled across its back. It kneels down to the pile of ash and prepares to touch it. At this sight, Argus becomes even more curious and inches forward to try to get a better view of the encounter.
He inches over a pile of particularly dry leaves that make a very audible crunch. Now alerted to his presence, the peculiar cube man seems to know to look exactly where Argus is seated. It runs over towards his hiding place and draws its bow. It pulls the arrow back as it makes loud yelling noises. What it says to him as it aims to kill him is incomprehensible, but he assumes it wants him to show himself. He finds that he would rather take his chances trusting in than trying to fight it, as it has proven itself to be a very good marksman.
Hands in the air and rain still beating down on him, he shouts back to it.
“HELLO!” He screams. His voice is barely loud enough to beat out the rain. “I thank you for saving my life!” He figures his best option is to thank it, especially since it deserves thanking anyhow.
It looks at him confused and agitated, still ready to release the arrow into his chest at any moment. It shouts back to him, “Ast it pracudi verno vos nisus!” Argus has no idea what to make of the strange language. It sounds to him like Latin, though he wouldn’t know anyway as his only speakable language is English. It shouts the same phrase to him again. Still, he doesn’t know how to respond. It slowly pulls the arrow back to keep the bow calm and lowers it. It approaches him with an expression of what looks to be pure rage but in fact begins to sound like panic.
“Daso int Utei.” It says to him calmly. It places its hand on his leg, causing him to scream briefly in a resurgence of pain. He looks down at the leg and notices that it has incredibly deep cuts running all around it. Blood is pouring out of his leg relentlessly, and he know recognizes the truly critical state he is in.
“Utei.” It says to him again. It places emphasis on this word.
“Uhh, Utei.” Argus says back. He isn’t sure how else to respond, but if it keeps it from killing him, he doesn’t care.
It draws out a small leather satchel that had been attached to its pants. It pulls out an object that confuses him to see, and makes him chuckle in disbelief.
“A picture of a porkchop.” He says inquisitively. “What will that do?” He knows it cannot understand him, but he does not see the hurt in asking.
“Inyo, Utei.” It responds. It hands him the hunk of meat. It amazes him when the flat image of the meat turns to life in his hand as he grabs it. He recoils in disgust as he finds that the meat is not cooked. It is slimy and warm and probably incredibly unsafe to eat. He tries to convince himself to turn down the meat, but the creature with the bow and arrows convinces him to listen. In one hapless bite, he fits the entire piece of meat into his mouth and down his throat. What he feels next truly astonishes him.
His body feels flooded with feelings of pure, calming numbness. The rainstorm now feels like a gentle, steady stream of water flowing over his body. His back pain, his headache, his leg pain, everything subsides. He feels amazing. He looks down hopefully at his originally gashed leg to find that it is healing itself at an incredibly fast pace. His jaw drops and he laughs in astonishment as it continues to mend the wounds. It eventually comes to a complete stop, and a small amount of pain returns to him, but it is bearable. The creature gives him another piece of meat and, despite its bitter taste, is very pleasing to him. He watches as his leg returns to its regular rapidly healing pace.
“Nu kota inu kei Epa.” The creature motions for him to try standing. In an effortless motion, he comes to a stand. He is not limping any longer. His leg has returned to its normal vitality. He arrogantly regrets that the monster had been killed by the creature, as he now hopes to fight it again himself, sure that he would best it. Now owing it his life, Argus attempts to shake hands with the creature. Its arm is a solid, rectangular block. He finds it difficult to shake its hand and instead just moves its arm up and down, beaming at it with a bright, joyful face. He barely notices in all this elation that another creature had been observing them from a distance this entire time.
It has a disturbing, almost frowning expression on its head. It has no arms, but instead four stubby and caterpillar-like legs. It begins to inch its way towards the two, completely and utterly silent. It seems more fixated on reaching the creature than him, and so he backs off. Fearing that this creature is dangerous, he shouts to the creature, “Woah, hey, Woah! Turn around! Look out!” He is frantically jumping and trying to get the creature to look behind itself, but it instead stands there, staring at Argus in confusion. It begins yelling some incomprehensible phrases back to him, but it is clear that they do not understand each other.
The frowning creature becomes now further visible in the moonlight, yet the jungle floor here still remains very dark. Its body appears to be completely composed of leaves and foliage, almost that which would be seen in a swamp. Once it approaches the humanlike creature that had saved Argus’ life, it begins to flash between a bright, pure white and its normal green complexion. It makes a loud hissing noise as it does this, which causes the humanlike creature to turn around in a startle. It attempts to run from the sinister, leafy monster, but it is too late. With a final flash of white, the monster itself explodes, sending leafy projectiles in every direction. Argus covers his face just in time as he is pelted with sticks, mud, and leaves. He looks again to see the creature that had saved his life, dead on the jungle floor. The leafy monster is nowhere to be seen. He assumes it had blown itself up. He begins to tear up as he mourns the passing of this curious being. A familiar act by an evelope of smoke covers its body. Up one side of his body is a pure white smoke which contrasts absolutely with the pure black smoke that covers his other side. These to sheets of smoke appear to undergo a tug of war with the body, until the white smoke is victorious. He pounds the ground in frustration; he had witnessed the death of four completely alien creatures in an alien world, and he now feels totally alone. The rain slows down very quickly over the next few seconds before coming to a complete stop. All that can be heard now is the gentle calls of the birds and the water trickling down the leaf cubes of the trees. Feeling defeated, Argus falls to his knees and basks in his sorrow.
Chapter 2
Thrashing through the jungle foliage, Argus continues his exhausting retreat. What he is running from he is not sure, but the periodic thundering claps of trees being uprooted keep him sprinting. Breathing is nearly impossible now; to stop means certain death, and to continue onward he does not even feel would save him. Whatever is pursuing him, he certainly is not doing a very good job of running from it.
The foliage is becoming denser now. He is forced to slow to a nervous jog through some of the treacherous thickets. His pursuer, he can hear, is still right behind him; the sound of monstrous trees falling to the ground echoes through the jungle.
Finally, a break in the shrubs is seen and Argus heads straight for it. The towering trees seem to open up to form a nearly perfect circle of nothing but lush, damp grass. He stands in the center of the clearing, hunched over, distraught and trying to catch his breath. For a few moments, his pursuer seems to have stopped its destruction of the jungle behind him. It is nowhere to be seen.
With his breathing under control, he takes the time to further examine this opening. The break in the canopy far above him gives the sun a perfect, circular window to shine its light down upon him. A glowing cube it may be, but he can still feel the same warmth and sanctuary that he feels from his own sun. Argus wipes the sweat from his forehead and looks at the ground. He jumps in surprise as he notices what it is he has been standing on.
Four volcanic red lines of what seem to be ash lead out in any direction. They each break into two thinner lines a few blocks outward. These lines all meet with each other in the same perfect circle that had formed this clearing. He reaches down to touch the pulsing, red powder. As he scoops a handful of it into his hands, it vaporizes while some excess runs off his palms.
He finds eight small pillars surrounding the red, powder circle. Seven of them appear to be made of a dull, grey rock, while the eighth appears to be a solid, dark purple. Walking curiously towards the purple pillar, he notices that it is inscribed with a pulsating, red text. What amazes him most of all is that the text is written in English.
“Your gift, it is special.” The pillar reads. “It is used to create, t~ destroy.” Further downward, the text appears to become more broken and illegible. “What y~u ~o here is i~~~~ta~t.” The final line is perfectly legible and nerve-racking for him. “It will stop at nothing. You are not safe.” He continues gazing in speculation at this anomaly, but is interrupted by a violent disturbance.
A deafening, bass-like rumble seems to travel from his left ear to his right almost immediately as if something had flown behind him. He comes to a stand, jolted by the strange noise. He scans the entirety of the opening, the wall-like formation of trees that surrounds it, the canopies up above, but finds nothing. Finally, a similarly deep rumble brushes behind him again. He continues searching for the source of the sound but finds nothing.
The next rumbling approach comes on much more slowly, as if it is approaching him. It comes to an immediate stop once it appears as though the source of the sound is directly behind him. He turns slowly, terrified at what the source may be.
He makes a final, sudden turn of his head, hoping to catch his stalker off-guard. Nothing is behind him. Argus is only petrified by this. He turns back to where he was originally looking, but a pair of pure, white eyes coupled by a devilish grin is there to greet him. He screams in sheer terror as he stumbles, falling and landing on his back with the horrifying creature staring at him. It appears enraged. He begins to hyperventilate as it raises its arms towards the skies. The immense trees surrounding them, almost by the creature’s will, come crashing down inward upon them. Argus shields his face with his arms, embracing for the crushing pain of death.
He springs up from his laying position with a horrified shout. He finally manages to gain control of his screaming terror, but struggles to keep his rapid breathing from overpowering him. Periodically choking in panic, he feels his limbs and face to ensure he is still alive. His head spins as he desperately searches for the creature that had tried to kill him. Nothing is found.
He is no longer on his back at the whim of a white-eyed fiend, but rather sitting hunched over in a particularly muddy portion of the jungle. There is no circular opening, no red lines of ash, and more importantly, he is still alive.
“I guess I can still dream here.” Argus concludes. He realizes that he had fallen asleep and must have slept through the early dawn. As he recovers from his night terror, he finds the memories from his true, previous night of horror coming back to him. He had nearly died at the hands of what he believes to be an undead creature of sorts. The creature that had saved him from this had almost killed him itself had it not noticed the mortal wounds he had suffered on his leg. “Why did it save my life after it had just wanted to kill me itself?” Argus wonders to himself. Regardless, this curious creature he had only known for less than ten minutes, as a shrub-ridden, four-legged monster destroyed it and itself.
Finishing his reflection of his past experiences, Argus begins to prepare for the day ahead. He concludes that the most logical thing to do would be to try to find his way back to the river, but that seems to be an impossible task. Surrendering any hope of strategizing, he selects a random opening in the shrubs, all of which seeming to advance further into the depths of the jungle.
An uneventful fifteen minute trek leads to no clearings or hints of a break in the trees. He momentarily believes that he has found an opening, but further investigation proves he is only headed further into the jungle. A quick memory of the perfect circle he had visited in his dream momentarily cripples his thoughts as he struggles to regain control of his anxiety.
“Pray to God I never find that place.” Argus comments to himself, laughing at the improbability of actually finding it. He recommences his voyage almost obliviously as he continues the fruitless search for a break in the jungle canopy. It is a bright and glorious midday, he can tell, but the thick canopies keep the jungle floor dark with small spots of light bleeding through. He searches to his sides as he continues his determined march forward, still with no signs of an opening. He begins feeling disoriented as he realizes that he truly now hasn’t the slightest clue where he is supposed to be heading. He continues walking forward as he rubs his face, trying to relieve some of the fatigue. Suddenly, he finds his next step not touching the ground; he has unknowingly taken a step off of the edge of the jungle floor.
His arms fumble as he tries to maintain his balance, but it is no use. His step continues to go straight downward until eventually hitting the ground one cube below him. Landing on such an awkward and unexpected angle, he continues falling forward. Unfortunately for him, there is no ground ahead of him; it continues to descend at a sharp angle until eventually descending straight down, a three cube-high fall from there.
His legs and arms flail as he tumbles forward. The edges of the cubes are what inflict the most pain; his arms feel the shock of the landings as his knees and shins take a beating on the edges of the cubes. His head bashes the ground multiple times. He is absolutely disoriented.
Finally, his uncontrollable plummet comes to its finale as he rolls off of the edge of the three cube edge, falling for a few moments before crashing against the ground.
Argus can hardly move. His limbs are all aching with an intense agony as he lies on this cold, stone ground. He coughs himself into lightheadedness as blood blasts out of his mouth. He attempts to come to a stand, but his wobbling arms give way and bring him back to the ground.
After a few moments of disorienting agony, still lying on his back, Argus views where he had fallen from. Where he was prior to the fall has to be at least ten cubes up and out from here. With that in mind, he summons the strength to regain his stand and attempt to climb back up to where he had fallen from. However, he soon realizes that this is impossible.
The only possible way upward is the three cube-high ledge, which, after examining and attempting to climb, finds that his arms are not capable of climbing it. In a panic, he looks for another route upward, but finds none. He feels totally trapped, convinced that he will rot in this gaping hole. He takes a step backward, trying to assess the situation, when he feels his left foot lose its footing again; another descent. Almost immediately, however, he pulls his foot back and regains his posture, standing securely for a few moments before turning to see where he had almost fallen into.
It is a rocky plunge that leads downward into a pitch black chasm. He can only assume that it is a tunnel. With no other options at hand, Argus, in a realization that he would prefer going far from the surface anyway, decides to head downward into it. He begins to have doubts about his decisions though, as it quickly envelops him in a shroud of darkness. A few further precarious steps downward leave him with only a minute glimpse of the daylight from the surface. A few more leave him in total darkness as the descent flattens.
Argus finds it strange; there is nothing to give him light, but yet this passageway has a faint glow that makes vision possible on a very archaic level. His surroundings, he finds, are what seems to be a very echoic, yet small passageway leading forward, while the climb back to the surface gradually opens up and provides some light. Should he need to ascend back upward, though, he would find it a very painful, lumbering journey.
He continues forward through the spacious passageway, the faint light giving him just enough light to perceive walls directly ahead of him and to his sides. He proceeds slowly as the total emptiness makes him feel uneasy. Argus is convinced that his heart is beating directly outside his ears, as he can hear it very clearly. He journeys further through the passageway, questioning his own sanity for travelling this far.
Seemingly out of nowhere, further down the passageway, Argus hears a faint noise. It sounds high pitched. The noise grows louder and louder. It is a piercing, half-screeching half-wailing noise that stuns Argus. The clamor quakes through his veins; it makes his body turn cold as the wail continues. A few moments later, the sound vanishes, echoing through the passageway for a few moments more. His hands are still locked to his ears, his eyes widened to their limits. He is looking back and forth down the passageway for the source of the sound. The cavern is absolutely silent for a few moments, until Argus hears the sound of a drop hitting a pool of water.
Uneasily, Argus heads towards the water, assuming that an uneventful discovery of a pool of water awaits him. He continues his limping walk forward, still in crippling pain from his fall. Placing his hand on the wall, he uses it to guide his half-blind advance forward. The sound of the water is becoming more and more apparent. It gives off its own echo as Argus closes in on it. He recognizes the feel of the stone on his hand. Its cold, grainy texture provides him no comfort as he edges toward the water. This consistency of rock is overtaken immediately by a much warmer, spongier, damper feel. Argus retracts his hand in fright, curious as to why the rock without warning had changed to a strange texture. He examines the rock close enough to find that it is actually covered in moss. Astonishing to him is that the rock appears simple and flat, but once he touches it, it erupts into life, the moss and outgrowth covering it entirely. Amused, he rubs much of this mossy rock until a good two cubes of it is covered with real, living moss. He grins as he continues doing this until his hand leaves the rock and passes over air. Intrigued, he closely examines the gap in the rock to find that it is actually an offshoot of the passageway.
As he rounds the corner of the rock and begins walking down this newfound passage, he realizes that there is light in the chamber ahead. There is enough light to notice that the rock that encases the chamber is the same mossy material that he had discovered in the main passageway. He curiously, almost eagerly, walks towards the chamber, hoping he will find some sort of way to reach the surface once again. Entering the eerie, mossy-covered chamber, he finds something quite different than he had expected.
Four bright, vigorous torches surround what Argus interprets to be a cube that is a metal cage. Almost depressingly, the torches seem to be a tease of reality, providing Argus no warmth, no crisp smoke smell he recognizes from his old home. What disturbs him more than the lifeless glow of the torches is a small, black object he observes inside the cage.
As he edges closer to take a better look, the object springs upward, hitting the top of the cage. Argus’ eyes widen in astonishment as the object sprouts eight chubby limbs. It grows what appears to be a head that sprouts eight, elegant red eyes. He realizes that this object had turned in to a small spider. Argus is normally terrified of spiders, but this one seems to be rather amusing. It is making comical hissing sounds, nibbling gently at the cage. Argus smiles at its behavior, grateful that the spider seems friendly. He toys with it for a few minutes, wrestling it through the cage with his finger.
A deep, deafening roar echoes through the passageway. The noise gets to the point where Argus can no longer here. The vibration is powerful enough that the small spider has difficulty standing. A strange gust of chilly air fills the room. Argus, disturbed by the strong wind brushing past him, places his hands near the torches for warmth, but one by one, they are blown out as the wind overcomes their flames. Once the torches are gone, the room remains lit enough for him to locate the exit of the chamber, as well as the cage. He looks back at the spider, but notices that it is not behaving the way it had before.
Its eyes have taken a much deeper, sinister red. It is attacking the bars of the cage, trying to get at Argus. He backs away, horrified by the fiendish behavior it had taken up. Its original hissing has been replaced by disturbing shrieks of anger and bloodlust. As he attempts to lunge out of the room, Argus places his hand over the wall. What he had placed it on feels like neither stone nor moss, but rather hair. He retracts his hand in shock as he looks above him to see that he had just placed his hand on a spider’s leg. It is enormous, however, at least waist-high to Argus. He steps back slowly, hoping that he had not angered it. It has a cubed body that contrasts creepily with its lifelike legs.
The spider leaps from its perched position above the chamber exit. Argus raises his arms just in time for the spider’s eight, fleshy legs to wrap themselves around his arms rather than his face. It lets out a deep, bloodthirsty hiss as its fangs try to reach for him. Argus overpowers it, however, and slams it into a wall. Pinning it there, he knees it in its abdomen, causing it to let out a genuine wail in pain. He lifts it up once more before throwing it back down to the ground with enough force that the sound echoes through the chamber. With that final blow, the spider lie on the ground dead, its legs coiling back up towards its body.
Argus turns back towards the cage, proud of his kill. What he sees absolutely petrifies him. A similar, deep hiss is heard multiple times almost simultaneously as he observes three pairs of eight baleful, red eyes, awaken. He tears out of the chamber, running for dear life in almost total darkness. As he runs down towards the main passageway, he remembers that he will have to turn either left or right. Failing to remember which path is the correct one, he takes the right pathway and hopes it will lead him to safety. The constant thumping of legs racing toward him can be heard throughout the passageway, accompanied by the spiders’ constant, agitated hissing. As he can perceive that the spiders are approaching him, running much faster than he, he lets out of a scream of defeat, feeling his feeble retreat will only prolong his suffering.
“Should I escape the spiders, then what?” He asks himself. “I’m still God-knows-where in a pitch-black passageway.” He continues his retreat, sure that the spiders are practically biting at his heels. As he takes a final step, he notices directly ahead of him that there is no more ground; this passageway has opened up to a massive cavern, and he is on the edge of a cliff. With no desirable options, Argus decides between being eaten alive by enormous spiders, or falling to his death. He chooses the latter, and takes a leap of faith off of the cliff. As his feet leave the ground, he feels one of the spiders momentarily bite his leg, but it only manages to rip a piece of his pants off. He continues falling for five seconds, bracing himself for a painful smack against a cold, stone ground.
What greets him instead is a sharp, momentary pain across his back as he lands in a pool of water. He floats nearly to the bottom of the pool before regaining his senses and swimming back to the surface.
Exhausted from his retreat from the spiders, Argus takes long, gasping breaths as he tries to regain his breathing. He floats in this water relatively well. It is freezing, but for the time being, it is the most refreshing feeling he has experienced thus far. He is alive and the spiders are nowhere to be seen. Argus swims to the edge of the pool and climbs out, straining the water out of his clothes. Overcome by an incredible sense of relief, he looks up as if to the heavens, thankful that he had survived this ordeal. What he sees is even more amazing: the roomy cavern opens up to the surface in the form of a gaping, gorgeously overhanging hole. The bright moon over head fills the cavern with a mystical light. Even more incredible is there is a stone pathway leading all the way up the cavern and to the surface. Argus eagerly begins climbing this, almost forgetting that his legs had been completely mangled only awhile earlier from the fall.
Finally having ascending to the surface after what must have been forty painfully steep stone steps, Argus stands in pride, amazed at how these events had turned out. He appears to no longer be in the jungle, though trees still surround and block most of his vision in to the distance. He can see, however, that on one side, the jungle exists, as the massive canopies tower over these surrounding him.
Argus’ happiness is short-lived. He realizes that he will have to either venture back in to the jungle, or continue forward past a group of trees covering his vision. Either way, however, he hasn’t the slightest clue what he will do. His only real accomplishment, he reflects, is that he had walked for a few hours and found himself inches away from death on multiple occasions. What hides in the jungle waiting to be discovered he does not want to find out. Frustrated, he vents his anger on a pillar of dirt, expecting a solid, painful response from it, but uncaring.
Instead, his fist penetrates inches of the dirt, much like it would in his old world. He retracts it quickly, surprised by the realistic feel of the dirt. He reaches back for it, scooping a lump of it into his hands. Shortly thereafter, though, the clump tugs back towards the dirt. He releases it, and it flies back into its original place in the dirt cube. His eyes widen in confusion.
He punches it once more, and still, it behaves as real dirt. He notices that as he punches it, momentarily, cracks appear to form all across the cube. He continues beating the dirt, chunks flying off and reattaching themselves, but the cracks across the cube still forming. After a few more seconds, the dirt cube instantly vanishes as a much smaller piece of dirt floats in its place. Argus reaches out for the floating cube, and as he is about to make contact with it, the cube appears to turn to a brown, polished liquid. The liquid crawls up his fingers before encircling the palm of his hand. Moments later, the liquid appears to be absorbed into his hand.
He laughs at the incredible performance the dirt cube had given him. Eager to experience it again, Argus punches a second dirt cube until it pops into its floating, miniature replica. He reaches for it again, chuckling as it orbits his hand before being absorbed. He does this twice more; his arms are too exhausted to continue. Argus notices that he feels a warm sensation is a small area of his right forearm. He looks over to it to see that a brown square had taken residence on his arm. He at first assumes it is just a birthmark, but then counters that a birthmark would not form such a perfect square. Intrigued, he touches the square slowly with his hand. It feels as though his arm is becoming wet from this as the same brown, metallic liquid that had been formed from the dirt cube were coming out once more. He pulls the liquid out as if it was a noodle, and once completely removed from his right arm, he notices the brown square vanish. The liquid that he now holds pinched between two fingers begins to glow before floating in a perfect, brilliant ball directly ahead of his index finger. Wherever he moved his index finger, the ball would always float in front of it. Unsure of what to do, Argus grabs the ball with his right hand, which causes it to return to its liquid form before being absorbed by his hand, returning the brown square to his arm. Shrugging the occurrence off as an amusing trick this world lets him play, he begins walking towards the break in the tree-line, hoping to never set foot in another jungle.
See this link for part II! http://minerealm.com/community/viewtopi ... =12&t=1031
-----------------------------------------------------------------
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| Because Some of Us Dont Like Spoilers |
| Protect Yourself From The Comments! |
| I will never post spoilers there, but if
I mention something you haven't gotten to,|
| This wall of text protects you
|
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
-----------------------------------------------------------------
][Open to commentaries, critiques, predictions, etc!]
If you need me to clarify anything, I will do my best. Though there are certain questions I will not answer.
Prologue
His eyes widen in a panic. He can feel the throbbing of his heartbeat in his head. His limbs are sore and bloodied. The light from the eerie blue sky pierces his retinas and makes seeing clearly a difficult chore. He fixates on his legs, bruised and posed in an awkward and painful fashion. Quickly readjusting to a more relaxed sitting position, he rubs his eyes vigorously until his vision restores, but the harsh light of the skies keep him in an impractical squint. He takes the time to curse to himself about the pain, wondering why he is in this condition. He didn’t think the accident had been that severe, perhaps barely enough to knock him off of his feet. Before he can further reflect, he instead becomes attentive to his returning vision.
He vigorously blinks to ensure he can see properly, and then pushes off of the ground with his left arm to help reach a standing position. With a clumsy stagger towards his left side, he feels a sharp pain in his leg. It hurts for him to keep weight on it, but he is stubborn to continue standing and manages to maintain it. Finally able to focus on what he can see, he observes the view that lie before him, still panting from the ordeal.
What he sees is incredible. The very earth of this land is incomprehensible for him. The word “Earth” is not a suitable word to describe the spectacle that he gazes upon. This place is different. This place is special.
The land, it seems, is made of solid, uniform cubes. It amazes him that something so gorgeous can come from something so simple. He laughs heartily in disbelief at the awe-inspiring cubes that form the verdant, rolling hills ahead of him. The sky is that of a clear azure. A few transparent, rectangular clouds leisurely slink across the vast expanse. An intense yellow-white block he assumes to be the sun stares down at him from its heavenly throne at the top of the sky. Wherever he is, it is the middle of the day and the weather is perfect.
He makes a complete circle to scope the other surroundings, but he has already made the decision to traverse the outlandish, cubed hills that rest ahead of him. An arid green pasture is all that he can see to his left. A similar pasture is to his right but is broken up by what appears to be sand. Behind him, however, is a menacing tower of what he assumes to be stone, topped with a grassy dirt cap. He finds himself very tempted to alter his venturing plans, but decides to keep to his original course and heads onward towards the hills.
They approach very rapidly. Every footstep makes a vociferous crunch; the grass he treads upon seems to be a very hardy and stiff variety. He passes well-spaced trees on either side that have very expansive leaf clusters and branches. Their trunks are a perfect tower of cubes upward, but the leaves give them the vitality and vigor that makes this place so miraculous. He eventually approaches what he perceives to be an incline; this cubic landscape is on the rise as the hills approach. He awkwardly bounds up one level of the cubes. As he clears the large step upward, his leg gives out and he falls quickly to the ground. Determined to reach the top of the hill, he pulls himself off of the ground and continues to stride forward. Shortly thereafter, however, he finds himself having to leap up another cube level. This exertion is excruciating for him, to say the least. He continues upward until his rasping gasps for air convince him to take a break. A quick glance backwards confirms that he is very far up the hill, and a confident stare forward convinces him that there is very little hill left to scale. With one final stride, he reaches the peak of the hill, the pinnacle of his efforts. With the trees nonexistent up here, he finds himself looking down upon another spectacular vista. A small mass of rock blocks most of his view to the front. To either side, he can see the familiar, arid grasslands, but this new vantage point exhibits a rich, blue river running from his right to his left. He is amazed with what this world has shown him thus far, but still is curious as to what hides behind the rock ahead of him.
Still winded from his ascent, he lumbers toward the stone mass. Eventually he is forced to climb over it, this time using his arms to pull him atop the sun-baked rock. He lies down once he successfully clambers upon the rock. Eyes shut and clothes soaked through with sweat, he takes a stretching roll towards the world he has yet to explore. He continues rolling until he feels a sharp pain run perfectly straight across his back. His body jolts in agony; he has rolled off of the corner of a cube.
His eyes shoot open just in time to break the fall with his arms. It is a mere two-cube fall for him, something he is convinced he can now easily climb, but the pain of the landing is still unbearable. He feels himself beginning to roll again as to continue from his fall, but stops himself immediately. His eyes dart over his right shoulder to realize why he had made it just in time.
The final cube of this isolated ledge is the beginning of a tremendous cliff, and as he realizes this, he watches as his leg dangles off of it. Terrified, he pulls his leg back up to fully cover it by the cube. Slowly pushing himself up to a sitting position and careful not to plummet over the edge, he inches his head over the cube to gaze downward at the extraordinary view that had almost killed him.
A mini-lake of the pure-blue water sits agitated at the bottom of this cliff. What amazes him more than the majesty of this pool is the mystical torrent from the waterfall that feeds it. What seems to be four cubes across and a few cubes below him is the waterfall that surges out of the face of the cliff. He concludes that this must be an outlet that the expansive river behind him uses to dump its contents.
Surrounding the lake is a dominion of immense trees, trees that in his world would be found only in the depths of a rainforest. These completely cover an area at least three kilometers across ahead of him. Nothing but the verdant canopies can be seen.
With a sight as inconceivable as this, he almost forgets that he is only inches away from death. With a quick shake, he re-awakens from his trance and climbs back up the rock that had nearly shattered his back. Still, he remains in awe at the green sea of life that seems to be beckoning him. He glances back before deciding to take a moment to fully study the cliff face. A small, treacherous staircase of stone cubes seems to snake its way down the side of the cliff, perfidiously ending a few cubes before the ground is met. However, he makes mental note that should he ever wish to revisit this lost world, there is provided an at least survivable passageway into it.
Elated by the wonder of this new land, he climbs to the highest cube on the cliff and curiously scans the horizons. The bright cube that is the sun to this world has moved but a slight amount from its original position at the utmost peak of the heavens.
Unsure of what needs to be done, he looks to the clouds. They travel together as one and never change course. He is not sure how the clouds behaved in his world, but he is sure that knowing these clouds’ direction would be of much benefit for navigation. The sun appears to be crawling across the sky in a perfectly straight direction as well. He curses himself for not remembering its behavior in his world.
Even with sharp back pain, a throbbing headache, a partially crippled leg, and numerous cuts and bruises, there is still just one thing he wishes for: water. In a small fit of frustration, he wishes he had chosen to dive off of the cliff into the pool of water, but he realizes that he couldn’t trust he would survive the fall.
He remembers the river. It is of decent size and he is almost positive that the water would be safe to drink. His safest option is to double back down the hill side and follow the pastures down.
There, he will find the river.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Much to his dismay, descending down the defined levels of the hill is much more painful than climbing up. Every level downward leads to a botched landing on his injured leg, which in most cases leaves him shouting in pain, cradling his leg. His feet do not agree with him when he tries to continue running past a landing; the one cube fall is just enough to cause him to twist his ankles multiple times. Realizing the recklessness of moving downward quickly, he decides to slow to a careful jog, still intent on reaching the river.
The trees are beginning to gather once again at the base of the hill. Presented to him are the options of turning left to follow the river upstream, or turn right and hope the river continues there. He chooses to head left to find the upstream, hoping that it will be a much more powerful current there. Now back to a brisk run, he tries to take a sharp left, but his shoulder meets the leaf cubes of a tree. He is surprised to find that the leaves might as well be as solid as the ground he runs on, and it knocks him on his back. His swift plunge to the ground reawakens the relentless pain he had felt across his back when he was atop the cliff. After a few prolonged shouts of pain, his determination returns to him as he lifts himself off of the ground and returns to his run towards the river, careful not to make contact with the trees.
Three minutes of running delivers him to the arid lands that nestled the river. He is surprised at how the half-desert harbors a climate all its own. The warm, fresh air of the temperate hillside is replaced with a dry, biting wind. The transition isn’t kind; all at once, the brisk winds crash against his body, slowing his run to a near walk. He looks onward, however, and sees that the grass ahead of him is much greener, and there is a thick wall of trees enveloping the horizon. The jungle he had seen on the cliff is now presenting itself to him. He is thankful he had decided against climbing down the narrow, stone walkway from the cliff.
As he approaches the lush green grounds, he feels the air begin to cool slightly. The humidity amplifies tremendously. He assures himself the river cannot be much further. Noticing that the ground is heading downward and he will again have to descend the unforgiving cubes, he slows to a brisk walk, careful to take his time heading down the cubes. Large trees are beginning to surround him as he continues towards the jungle. The humidity is taking its toll; sweat is again profusely soaking his clothes. Finally though, he begins to pick up the sound of running water. The river must be here.
The trees are becoming closer together, often only having two cubes separating them. The audible rush of water can be heard; he finally catches glimpse of the energetic blue current that he had been chasing for what seems like an eternity. He walks around a tree that had been preventing full vision of the river.
It was stunning. The river carried itself majestically out of sight towards his left. To his right he could see that the upstream continues for at least a few hundred feet. At least seven cubes across and reaching down to two cubes deep, the river flows at a mighty blue current. Blissful that his efforts had finally yielded reward, he heads down to the river to soak his legs and hair. The water is a perfect cool temperature. He is certain that in a world so unblemished, the water would be the same, and so he drinks from it for a few moments.
He takes the time to relax at the sound of the flowing stream. With his mind at ease, he finally notices that the birds had been singing songs to each other high up in the canopies the entire time. He looks up in search of them, but the thick shroud of leaves covers his view.
He still hasn’t the slightest clue where he is. This world is made of cubes, but retains a beauty that is found in its simplicity. It does not concern him that he is away from his real home; the thrill of adventure is something he had been yearning for his whole life. Finally able to absorb the tranquility of this place, he closes his eyes and unwinds as the water rushes past his legs.
A crunch of the grass is heard to his right. His eyes widen as he scans for the cause of the noise. Nothing is found. Sure that he is in danger, he slowly pulls his legs out of the water and summons the energy to come to a stand. He stumbles slightly to his left as his leg complains. He stands completely still in dead silence, waiting for the grass to again identify his guest.
Two more crunches in quick succession. He jumps backward, afraid that the mysterious being will lunge at him at any moment. Searching the jungle floor for an object to defend himself with, he hears the sound thrice more, inferring that it is closing in. Well aware of his damaged physical condition, he realizes that whatever is approaching, he surely will not be able to fend off. He stands still, clenching his fists, prepared to fight even if it guarantees his death.
Through a clearing in the trees, a waist-high, pinkish-white silhouette is seen. He feels the fear overwhelming his body, imagining that this strange body will be none other than some demented creature set on killing him.
As it becomes fully visible, he notices its cube-like body and head. Although it is only cubes, he can tell that this animal is very chubby. Its face appears harmless yet curious. It is a pig.
Relieved, he exhales happily, finally meeting a familiar creature to that of his home world. Though it is a mere pig, he is ecstatic that he has met a living creature to communicate with. He approaches it slowly. The pig stares at him curiously as he closes in on it. It makes no movements, just stands completely still and observes him. He is close enough to kneel down and meet it close to face level. He gives it an enthusiastic scratch on the head before resting his hands on its chubby shoulders.
“Hello there.” He says to it eagerly. The pig continues its blank stare. He gives a gentle chuckle, amused by its harmless nature.
“My name is Argus.” He informs it. The pig does not understand him.
He keeps his newfound companion by his side as he returns to resting in the river. After a few minutes, the bored pig begins to venture back into the jungle.
By the time the pig has left his sight, the day is nearing a close; the sun is close to the horizon and the grass is beginning to become darker. A very sudden, powerful rain unleashes itself upon the jungle. He is not surprised; a rainforest derives its name from the rain, of course. The droplets are the very same chilly refreshing water that runs down the river. Overtaken by the majesty of this terrific rainstorm, he stands up and makes a vivacious yell of triumph into the jungle.
The loud pounding of the rain continues. He hears the very pig that had visited him earlier, but something is terribly wrong. It seems to be squealing in alarm. He listens closely and hears that there are two bodies moving through the jungle. He can only inquire that one, the pig, is being chased, and the other is chasing it.
Frightened for the pig and wishing to protect it, he abandons his rest spot on the river bank and runs onward into the heart of the jungle. His heart begins to race as he searches frantically for any sign of the pig. The constant squealing is guiding his way. The jungle floor is riddled with piles of leaves and sticks and branches of various sizes. He is careful not to trip, determined that he must find the pig.
With a final squeal hinting him to its whereabouts, he finds a perfect, low-ceiling portion of a tree to hide behind as he observes the pig from a few cubes away. Just as he gains sight of it, a bizarre event causes him to shriek in terror.
As he caught glimpse of the pig, he witnessed its entire body flash a violent shade of red as it leapt up into the air before landing back on the ground. It quickly fell over on its side, laying there motionless for a few moments. In frustration, he rushes over to the pig. Just as he is about to rub it mournfully, it disappears as a shroud of white smoke covers its body. He isn’t sure why he feels so depressed; a pig he had barely been in the presence of for ten minutes had just died, yet he could not feel any worse. Perhaps it was that he felt this was his one connection to another living thing, and that this opportunity would never arise again. Almost on cue, though, a lumbering silhouette disappearing into the jungle proves him wrong.
He is confident that this is what killed the pig. He rushes on after it, sure that he would easily catch up to it. Whatever it is, it does not move very quickly, and he knows he will surely meet up with it in a moment.
He clears through a particularly dense cluster of trees before he reaches a clearing. The rain thundering down upon the jungle is all that can be heard now as he stares at the silhouette a few cubes ahead of him. In a disturbing stance, the figure stands completely still, facing away from Argus. He walks angrily towards it, not sure exactly how prepared he is for what he will discover, but sure that he must find out what it is.
Up until he was right next to it, his footfall had been conveniently quiet. When he finally gets close, though, a branch makes his presence known to the figure. He sees that it has tattered clothes, and his left arm is visible to him. It is utterly rotten in appearance; he can still examine through its cube-like frame that this thing is not human. In a final fit of rage, he uses his good leg to kick the creature in its back. When his leg makes contact, it feels as though he had kicked a brick wall. He quakes as the pain floods the right side of his body. He takes a limping step backwards, sure that he has now infuriated the seemingly invincible creature.
It quickly shakes, almost awakening itself. It turns around ever so slowly. As its face becomes visible, Argus presumes that it is some deformed human. A full turn, however, convinces him that this was no human.
“What the he-“ He is forced to a halt. The monster is clenching his throat with both hands. It has an iron grip and he is convinced that it isn’t going to be releasing him any time soon. In a fruitless effort, he tries to relieve pressure on his neck by pulling its arms away. The monster is now shaking him violently, causing him to let out a few audible gasps for air.
He is becoming lightheaded and drained. With every violent shake he feels himself one step closer to certain death. He tries to punch its head, but his fists bounce off of its skull, causing him to realize his true helplessness.
The monster releases its grip for a second before throwing Argus at a nearby tree. The corner of the cubed trunk crushes his back in the same place he had been hit twice before. He lets out a piercing scream as he clenches his back in pain. He does not have much time to recover, however. The monster once again grabs hold of his neck before running him up against the tree. Argus’ feet are now off of the ground as the monster holds him there effortlessly, awaiting his suffocation. He has lost most of his ability to hear as he fades into unconsciousness. With his vision blacking out and his gasps for air surrendered, he feels his body going limp. Just as this happens, however, he feels the monster release its grip.
Argus once again gasps violently for air, using his arms to protect his neck from further attack. He quickly stands back up, noticing the monster standing dead ahead of him. The monster is not responding. It appears dead in mid-stand. A loud hiss from the air followed by a deep thump cause the monster to yell in agony. Its deep voice echoes through the jungle so violently he is sure the trees are trembling. It raises its arm to either side in pain before falling to the ground on its chest.
Argus examines the body closely and finds that there are two arrows lodged in its back. He takes a moment to laugh at and curse the monster’s body. He kicks the corpse in its side until a similar shroud of smoke to the pig covers it. This smoke is different though. It is a pure black smoke. It covers the corpse more violently than the smoke did to the pig minutes ago. After it is completely covered, the corpse implodes in on itself and a boom followed by a large puff of black smoke finish its disappearance. All that remains is a small pile of black ash that has an odd streak of white ash inscribed in its center.
He barely has a moment to ponder over the events that seem to occur when a creature dies when he begins to hear footsteps in the distance. These sound like more natural footsteps, footsteps of a human. He is sure though that if it is a human, it is likely what fired the arrows that saved him, but also that it may not be out purposely to save him either. He uses his better judgment and tries to take a few steps backward to retreat to where he came from, but the treacherous jungle floor causes him to trip. Finally totally doubled over in pain, all Argus can do is lie back as the mysterious guest approaches.
The footsteps stop. He is relieved and hopes that it has left him at peace. He also notices though that where he is seated is a perfect hiding spot in relation to the clearing the noise is coming from. He now observes intently as he waits for its next move. Two quick footsteps are heard to his left. Just as he peers that way, the sees the silhouette of what had killed the monster. He feels tempted to shout out for it, but instead decides to wait for it to close in on where the monster had died.
He hears his guest move towards the monster’s ash pile very quickly. Reassuring himself that he is in a proper hiding spot, he ducks his head under an inconveniently placed branch to observe. What he sees is very strange.
It appears to have the body of a man, yet made entirely of a series of cubes. It is bare-chested and wears only worn leather pants. There are expertly painted red markings riddled across its back. It kneels down to the pile of ash and prepares to touch it. At this sight, Argus becomes even more curious and inches forward to try to get a better view of the encounter.
He inches over a pile of particularly dry leaves that make a very audible crunch. Now alerted to his presence, the peculiar cube man seems to know to look exactly where Argus is seated. It runs over towards his hiding place and draws its bow. It pulls the arrow back as it makes loud yelling noises. What it says to him as it aims to kill him is incomprehensible, but he assumes it wants him to show himself. He finds that he would rather take his chances trusting in than trying to fight it, as it has proven itself to be a very good marksman.
Hands in the air and rain still beating down on him, he shouts back to it.
“HELLO!” He screams. His voice is barely loud enough to beat out the rain. “I thank you for saving my life!” He figures his best option is to thank it, especially since it deserves thanking anyhow.
It looks at him confused and agitated, still ready to release the arrow into his chest at any moment. It shouts back to him, “Ast it pracudi verno vos nisus!” Argus has no idea what to make of the strange language. It sounds to him like Latin, though he wouldn’t know anyway as his only speakable language is English. It shouts the same phrase to him again. Still, he doesn’t know how to respond. It slowly pulls the arrow back to keep the bow calm and lowers it. It approaches him with an expression of what looks to be pure rage but in fact begins to sound like panic.
“Daso int Utei.” It says to him calmly. It places its hand on his leg, causing him to scream briefly in a resurgence of pain. He looks down at the leg and notices that it has incredibly deep cuts running all around it. Blood is pouring out of his leg relentlessly, and he know recognizes the truly critical state he is in.
“Utei.” It says to him again. It places emphasis on this word.
“Uhh, Utei.” Argus says back. He isn’t sure how else to respond, but if it keeps it from killing him, he doesn’t care.
It draws out a small leather satchel that had been attached to its pants. It pulls out an object that confuses him to see, and makes him chuckle in disbelief.
“A picture of a porkchop.” He says inquisitively. “What will that do?” He knows it cannot understand him, but he does not see the hurt in asking.
“Inyo, Utei.” It responds. It hands him the hunk of meat. It amazes him when the flat image of the meat turns to life in his hand as he grabs it. He recoils in disgust as he finds that the meat is not cooked. It is slimy and warm and probably incredibly unsafe to eat. He tries to convince himself to turn down the meat, but the creature with the bow and arrows convinces him to listen. In one hapless bite, he fits the entire piece of meat into his mouth and down his throat. What he feels next truly astonishes him.
His body feels flooded with feelings of pure, calming numbness. The rainstorm now feels like a gentle, steady stream of water flowing over his body. His back pain, his headache, his leg pain, everything subsides. He feels amazing. He looks down hopefully at his originally gashed leg to find that it is healing itself at an incredibly fast pace. His jaw drops and he laughs in astonishment as it continues to mend the wounds. It eventually comes to a complete stop, and a small amount of pain returns to him, but it is bearable. The creature gives him another piece of meat and, despite its bitter taste, is very pleasing to him. He watches as his leg returns to its regular rapidly healing pace.
“Nu kota inu kei Epa.” The creature motions for him to try standing. In an effortless motion, he comes to a stand. He is not limping any longer. His leg has returned to its normal vitality. He arrogantly regrets that the monster had been killed by the creature, as he now hopes to fight it again himself, sure that he would best it. Now owing it his life, Argus attempts to shake hands with the creature. Its arm is a solid, rectangular block. He finds it difficult to shake its hand and instead just moves its arm up and down, beaming at it with a bright, joyful face. He barely notices in all this elation that another creature had been observing them from a distance this entire time.
It has a disturbing, almost frowning expression on its head. It has no arms, but instead four stubby and caterpillar-like legs. It begins to inch its way towards the two, completely and utterly silent. It seems more fixated on reaching the creature than him, and so he backs off. Fearing that this creature is dangerous, he shouts to the creature, “Woah, hey, Woah! Turn around! Look out!” He is frantically jumping and trying to get the creature to look behind itself, but it instead stands there, staring at Argus in confusion. It begins yelling some incomprehensible phrases back to him, but it is clear that they do not understand each other.
The frowning creature becomes now further visible in the moonlight, yet the jungle floor here still remains very dark. Its body appears to be completely composed of leaves and foliage, almost that which would be seen in a swamp. Once it approaches the humanlike creature that had saved Argus’ life, it begins to flash between a bright, pure white and its normal green complexion. It makes a loud hissing noise as it does this, which causes the humanlike creature to turn around in a startle. It attempts to run from the sinister, leafy monster, but it is too late. With a final flash of white, the monster itself explodes, sending leafy projectiles in every direction. Argus covers his face just in time as he is pelted with sticks, mud, and leaves. He looks again to see the creature that had saved his life, dead on the jungle floor. The leafy monster is nowhere to be seen. He assumes it had blown itself up. He begins to tear up as he mourns the passing of this curious being. A familiar act by an evelope of smoke covers its body. Up one side of his body is a pure white smoke which contrasts absolutely with the pure black smoke that covers his other side. These to sheets of smoke appear to undergo a tug of war with the body, until the white smoke is victorious. He pounds the ground in frustration; he had witnessed the death of four completely alien creatures in an alien world, and he now feels totally alone. The rain slows down very quickly over the next few seconds before coming to a complete stop. All that can be heard now is the gentle calls of the birds and the water trickling down the leaf cubes of the trees. Feeling defeated, Argus falls to his knees and basks in his sorrow.
Chapter 2
Thrashing through the jungle foliage, Argus continues his exhausting retreat. What he is running from he is not sure, but the periodic thundering claps of trees being uprooted keep him sprinting. Breathing is nearly impossible now; to stop means certain death, and to continue onward he does not even feel would save him. Whatever is pursuing him, he certainly is not doing a very good job of running from it.
The foliage is becoming denser now. He is forced to slow to a nervous jog through some of the treacherous thickets. His pursuer, he can hear, is still right behind him; the sound of monstrous trees falling to the ground echoes through the jungle.
Finally, a break in the shrubs is seen and Argus heads straight for it. The towering trees seem to open up to form a nearly perfect circle of nothing but lush, damp grass. He stands in the center of the clearing, hunched over, distraught and trying to catch his breath. For a few moments, his pursuer seems to have stopped its destruction of the jungle behind him. It is nowhere to be seen.
With his breathing under control, he takes the time to further examine this opening. The break in the canopy far above him gives the sun a perfect, circular window to shine its light down upon him. A glowing cube it may be, but he can still feel the same warmth and sanctuary that he feels from his own sun. Argus wipes the sweat from his forehead and looks at the ground. He jumps in surprise as he notices what it is he has been standing on.
Four volcanic red lines of what seem to be ash lead out in any direction. They each break into two thinner lines a few blocks outward. These lines all meet with each other in the same perfect circle that had formed this clearing. He reaches down to touch the pulsing, red powder. As he scoops a handful of it into his hands, it vaporizes while some excess runs off his palms.
He finds eight small pillars surrounding the red, powder circle. Seven of them appear to be made of a dull, grey rock, while the eighth appears to be a solid, dark purple. Walking curiously towards the purple pillar, he notices that it is inscribed with a pulsating, red text. What amazes him most of all is that the text is written in English.
“Your gift, it is special.” The pillar reads. “It is used to create, t~ destroy.” Further downward, the text appears to become more broken and illegible. “What y~u ~o here is i~~~~ta~t.” The final line is perfectly legible and nerve-racking for him. “It will stop at nothing. You are not safe.” He continues gazing in speculation at this anomaly, but is interrupted by a violent disturbance.
A deafening, bass-like rumble seems to travel from his left ear to his right almost immediately as if something had flown behind him. He comes to a stand, jolted by the strange noise. He scans the entirety of the opening, the wall-like formation of trees that surrounds it, the canopies up above, but finds nothing. Finally, a similarly deep rumble brushes behind him again. He continues searching for the source of the sound but finds nothing.
The next rumbling approach comes on much more slowly, as if it is approaching him. It comes to an immediate stop once it appears as though the source of the sound is directly behind him. He turns slowly, terrified at what the source may be.
He makes a final, sudden turn of his head, hoping to catch his stalker off-guard. Nothing is behind him. Argus is only petrified by this. He turns back to where he was originally looking, but a pair of pure, white eyes coupled by a devilish grin is there to greet him. He screams in sheer terror as he stumbles, falling and landing on his back with the horrifying creature staring at him. It appears enraged. He begins to hyperventilate as it raises its arms towards the skies. The immense trees surrounding them, almost by the creature’s will, come crashing down inward upon them. Argus shields his face with his arms, embracing for the crushing pain of death.
He springs up from his laying position with a horrified shout. He finally manages to gain control of his screaming terror, but struggles to keep his rapid breathing from overpowering him. Periodically choking in panic, he feels his limbs and face to ensure he is still alive. His head spins as he desperately searches for the creature that had tried to kill him. Nothing is found.
He is no longer on his back at the whim of a white-eyed fiend, but rather sitting hunched over in a particularly muddy portion of the jungle. There is no circular opening, no red lines of ash, and more importantly, he is still alive.
“I guess I can still dream here.” Argus concludes. He realizes that he had fallen asleep and must have slept through the early dawn. As he recovers from his night terror, he finds the memories from his true, previous night of horror coming back to him. He had nearly died at the hands of what he believes to be an undead creature of sorts. The creature that had saved him from this had almost killed him itself had it not noticed the mortal wounds he had suffered on his leg. “Why did it save my life after it had just wanted to kill me itself?” Argus wonders to himself. Regardless, this curious creature he had only known for less than ten minutes, as a shrub-ridden, four-legged monster destroyed it and itself.
Finishing his reflection of his past experiences, Argus begins to prepare for the day ahead. He concludes that the most logical thing to do would be to try to find his way back to the river, but that seems to be an impossible task. Surrendering any hope of strategizing, he selects a random opening in the shrubs, all of which seeming to advance further into the depths of the jungle.
An uneventful fifteen minute trek leads to no clearings or hints of a break in the trees. He momentarily believes that he has found an opening, but further investigation proves he is only headed further into the jungle. A quick memory of the perfect circle he had visited in his dream momentarily cripples his thoughts as he struggles to regain control of his anxiety.
“Pray to God I never find that place.” Argus comments to himself, laughing at the improbability of actually finding it. He recommences his voyage almost obliviously as he continues the fruitless search for a break in the jungle canopy. It is a bright and glorious midday, he can tell, but the thick canopies keep the jungle floor dark with small spots of light bleeding through. He searches to his sides as he continues his determined march forward, still with no signs of an opening. He begins feeling disoriented as he realizes that he truly now hasn’t the slightest clue where he is supposed to be heading. He continues walking forward as he rubs his face, trying to relieve some of the fatigue. Suddenly, he finds his next step not touching the ground; he has unknowingly taken a step off of the edge of the jungle floor.
His arms fumble as he tries to maintain his balance, but it is no use. His step continues to go straight downward until eventually hitting the ground one cube below him. Landing on such an awkward and unexpected angle, he continues falling forward. Unfortunately for him, there is no ground ahead of him; it continues to descend at a sharp angle until eventually descending straight down, a three cube-high fall from there.
His legs and arms flail as he tumbles forward. The edges of the cubes are what inflict the most pain; his arms feel the shock of the landings as his knees and shins take a beating on the edges of the cubes. His head bashes the ground multiple times. He is absolutely disoriented.
Finally, his uncontrollable plummet comes to its finale as he rolls off of the edge of the three cube edge, falling for a few moments before crashing against the ground.
Argus can hardly move. His limbs are all aching with an intense agony as he lies on this cold, stone ground. He coughs himself into lightheadedness as blood blasts out of his mouth. He attempts to come to a stand, but his wobbling arms give way and bring him back to the ground.
After a few moments of disorienting agony, still lying on his back, Argus views where he had fallen from. Where he was prior to the fall has to be at least ten cubes up and out from here. With that in mind, he summons the strength to regain his stand and attempt to climb back up to where he had fallen from. However, he soon realizes that this is impossible.
The only possible way upward is the three cube-high ledge, which, after examining and attempting to climb, finds that his arms are not capable of climbing it. In a panic, he looks for another route upward, but finds none. He feels totally trapped, convinced that he will rot in this gaping hole. He takes a step backward, trying to assess the situation, when he feels his left foot lose its footing again; another descent. Almost immediately, however, he pulls his foot back and regains his posture, standing securely for a few moments before turning to see where he had almost fallen into.
It is a rocky plunge that leads downward into a pitch black chasm. He can only assume that it is a tunnel. With no other options at hand, Argus, in a realization that he would prefer going far from the surface anyway, decides to head downward into it. He begins to have doubts about his decisions though, as it quickly envelops him in a shroud of darkness. A few further precarious steps downward leave him with only a minute glimpse of the daylight from the surface. A few more leave him in total darkness as the descent flattens.
Argus finds it strange; there is nothing to give him light, but yet this passageway has a faint glow that makes vision possible on a very archaic level. His surroundings, he finds, are what seems to be a very echoic, yet small passageway leading forward, while the climb back to the surface gradually opens up and provides some light. Should he need to ascend back upward, though, he would find it a very painful, lumbering journey.
He continues forward through the spacious passageway, the faint light giving him just enough light to perceive walls directly ahead of him and to his sides. He proceeds slowly as the total emptiness makes him feel uneasy. Argus is convinced that his heart is beating directly outside his ears, as he can hear it very clearly. He journeys further through the passageway, questioning his own sanity for travelling this far.
Seemingly out of nowhere, further down the passageway, Argus hears a faint noise. It sounds high pitched. The noise grows louder and louder. It is a piercing, half-screeching half-wailing noise that stuns Argus. The clamor quakes through his veins; it makes his body turn cold as the wail continues. A few moments later, the sound vanishes, echoing through the passageway for a few moments more. His hands are still locked to his ears, his eyes widened to their limits. He is looking back and forth down the passageway for the source of the sound. The cavern is absolutely silent for a few moments, until Argus hears the sound of a drop hitting a pool of water.
Uneasily, Argus heads towards the water, assuming that an uneventful discovery of a pool of water awaits him. He continues his limping walk forward, still in crippling pain from his fall. Placing his hand on the wall, he uses it to guide his half-blind advance forward. The sound of the water is becoming more and more apparent. It gives off its own echo as Argus closes in on it. He recognizes the feel of the stone on his hand. Its cold, grainy texture provides him no comfort as he edges toward the water. This consistency of rock is overtaken immediately by a much warmer, spongier, damper feel. Argus retracts his hand in fright, curious as to why the rock without warning had changed to a strange texture. He examines the rock close enough to find that it is actually covered in moss. Astonishing to him is that the rock appears simple and flat, but once he touches it, it erupts into life, the moss and outgrowth covering it entirely. Amused, he rubs much of this mossy rock until a good two cubes of it is covered with real, living moss. He grins as he continues doing this until his hand leaves the rock and passes over air. Intrigued, he closely examines the gap in the rock to find that it is actually an offshoot of the passageway.
As he rounds the corner of the rock and begins walking down this newfound passage, he realizes that there is light in the chamber ahead. There is enough light to notice that the rock that encases the chamber is the same mossy material that he had discovered in the main passageway. He curiously, almost eagerly, walks towards the chamber, hoping he will find some sort of way to reach the surface once again. Entering the eerie, mossy-covered chamber, he finds something quite different than he had expected.
Four bright, vigorous torches surround what Argus interprets to be a cube that is a metal cage. Almost depressingly, the torches seem to be a tease of reality, providing Argus no warmth, no crisp smoke smell he recognizes from his old home. What disturbs him more than the lifeless glow of the torches is a small, black object he observes inside the cage.
As he edges closer to take a better look, the object springs upward, hitting the top of the cage. Argus’ eyes widen in astonishment as the object sprouts eight chubby limbs. It grows what appears to be a head that sprouts eight, elegant red eyes. He realizes that this object had turned in to a small spider. Argus is normally terrified of spiders, but this one seems to be rather amusing. It is making comical hissing sounds, nibbling gently at the cage. Argus smiles at its behavior, grateful that the spider seems friendly. He toys with it for a few minutes, wrestling it through the cage with his finger.
A deep, deafening roar echoes through the passageway. The noise gets to the point where Argus can no longer here. The vibration is powerful enough that the small spider has difficulty standing. A strange gust of chilly air fills the room. Argus, disturbed by the strong wind brushing past him, places his hands near the torches for warmth, but one by one, they are blown out as the wind overcomes their flames. Once the torches are gone, the room remains lit enough for him to locate the exit of the chamber, as well as the cage. He looks back at the spider, but notices that it is not behaving the way it had before.
Its eyes have taken a much deeper, sinister red. It is attacking the bars of the cage, trying to get at Argus. He backs away, horrified by the fiendish behavior it had taken up. Its original hissing has been replaced by disturbing shrieks of anger and bloodlust. As he attempts to lunge out of the room, Argus places his hand over the wall. What he had placed it on feels like neither stone nor moss, but rather hair. He retracts his hand in shock as he looks above him to see that he had just placed his hand on a spider’s leg. It is enormous, however, at least waist-high to Argus. He steps back slowly, hoping that he had not angered it. It has a cubed body that contrasts creepily with its lifelike legs.
The spider leaps from its perched position above the chamber exit. Argus raises his arms just in time for the spider’s eight, fleshy legs to wrap themselves around his arms rather than his face. It lets out a deep, bloodthirsty hiss as its fangs try to reach for him. Argus overpowers it, however, and slams it into a wall. Pinning it there, he knees it in its abdomen, causing it to let out a genuine wail in pain. He lifts it up once more before throwing it back down to the ground with enough force that the sound echoes through the chamber. With that final blow, the spider lie on the ground dead, its legs coiling back up towards its body.
Argus turns back towards the cage, proud of his kill. What he sees absolutely petrifies him. A similar, deep hiss is heard multiple times almost simultaneously as he observes three pairs of eight baleful, red eyes, awaken. He tears out of the chamber, running for dear life in almost total darkness. As he runs down towards the main passageway, he remembers that he will have to turn either left or right. Failing to remember which path is the correct one, he takes the right pathway and hopes it will lead him to safety. The constant thumping of legs racing toward him can be heard throughout the passageway, accompanied by the spiders’ constant, agitated hissing. As he can perceive that the spiders are approaching him, running much faster than he, he lets out of a scream of defeat, feeling his feeble retreat will only prolong his suffering.
“Should I escape the spiders, then what?” He asks himself. “I’m still God-knows-where in a pitch-black passageway.” He continues his retreat, sure that the spiders are practically biting at his heels. As he takes a final step, he notices directly ahead of him that there is no more ground; this passageway has opened up to a massive cavern, and he is on the edge of a cliff. With no desirable options, Argus decides between being eaten alive by enormous spiders, or falling to his death. He chooses the latter, and takes a leap of faith off of the cliff. As his feet leave the ground, he feels one of the spiders momentarily bite his leg, but it only manages to rip a piece of his pants off. He continues falling for five seconds, bracing himself for a painful smack against a cold, stone ground.
What greets him instead is a sharp, momentary pain across his back as he lands in a pool of water. He floats nearly to the bottom of the pool before regaining his senses and swimming back to the surface.
Exhausted from his retreat from the spiders, Argus takes long, gasping breaths as he tries to regain his breathing. He floats in this water relatively well. It is freezing, but for the time being, it is the most refreshing feeling he has experienced thus far. He is alive and the spiders are nowhere to be seen. Argus swims to the edge of the pool and climbs out, straining the water out of his clothes. Overcome by an incredible sense of relief, he looks up as if to the heavens, thankful that he had survived this ordeal. What he sees is even more amazing: the roomy cavern opens up to the surface in the form of a gaping, gorgeously overhanging hole. The bright moon over head fills the cavern with a mystical light. Even more incredible is there is a stone pathway leading all the way up the cavern and to the surface. Argus eagerly begins climbing this, almost forgetting that his legs had been completely mangled only awhile earlier from the fall.
Finally having ascending to the surface after what must have been forty painfully steep stone steps, Argus stands in pride, amazed at how these events had turned out. He appears to no longer be in the jungle, though trees still surround and block most of his vision in to the distance. He can see, however, that on one side, the jungle exists, as the massive canopies tower over these surrounding him.
Argus’ happiness is short-lived. He realizes that he will have to either venture back in to the jungle, or continue forward past a group of trees covering his vision. Either way, however, he hasn’t the slightest clue what he will do. His only real accomplishment, he reflects, is that he had walked for a few hours and found himself inches away from death on multiple occasions. What hides in the jungle waiting to be discovered he does not want to find out. Frustrated, he vents his anger on a pillar of dirt, expecting a solid, painful response from it, but uncaring.
Instead, his fist penetrates inches of the dirt, much like it would in his old world. He retracts it quickly, surprised by the realistic feel of the dirt. He reaches back for it, scooping a lump of it into his hands. Shortly thereafter, though, the clump tugs back towards the dirt. He releases it, and it flies back into its original place in the dirt cube. His eyes widen in confusion.
He punches it once more, and still, it behaves as real dirt. He notices that as he punches it, momentarily, cracks appear to form all across the cube. He continues beating the dirt, chunks flying off and reattaching themselves, but the cracks across the cube still forming. After a few more seconds, the dirt cube instantly vanishes as a much smaller piece of dirt floats in its place. Argus reaches out for the floating cube, and as he is about to make contact with it, the cube appears to turn to a brown, polished liquid. The liquid crawls up his fingers before encircling the palm of his hand. Moments later, the liquid appears to be absorbed into his hand.
He laughs at the incredible performance the dirt cube had given him. Eager to experience it again, Argus punches a second dirt cube until it pops into its floating, miniature replica. He reaches for it again, chuckling as it orbits his hand before being absorbed. He does this twice more; his arms are too exhausted to continue. Argus notices that he feels a warm sensation is a small area of his right forearm. He looks over to it to see that a brown square had taken residence on his arm. He at first assumes it is just a birthmark, but then counters that a birthmark would not form such a perfect square. Intrigued, he touches the square slowly with his hand. It feels as though his arm is becoming wet from this as the same brown, metallic liquid that had been formed from the dirt cube were coming out once more. He pulls the liquid out as if it was a noodle, and once completely removed from his right arm, he notices the brown square vanish. The liquid that he now holds pinched between two fingers begins to glow before floating in a perfect, brilliant ball directly ahead of his index finger. Wherever he moved his index finger, the ball would always float in front of it. Unsure of what to do, Argus grabs the ball with his right hand, which causes it to return to its liquid form before being absorbed by his hand, returning the brown square to his arm. Shrugging the occurrence off as an amusing trick this world lets him play, he begins walking towards the break in the tree-line, hoping to never set foot in another jungle.
See this link for part II! http://minerealm.com/community/viewtopi ... =12&t=1031
-----------------------------------------------------------------
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| Because Some of Us Dont Like Spoilers |
| Protect Yourself From The Comments! |
| I will never post spoilers there, but if
I mention something you haven't gotten to,|
| This wall of text protects you
|| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
-----------------------------------------------------------------
