The name ‘Devil’s Nest’ had some implications that he really didn’t like, and that was before the last message had appeared. New objects were filling out his vision now, far less intrusive than the massive text had been, and they seemed to vanish when he stopped looking directly at them.

It had been spelled out in the air a moment prior, but even if it hadn’t, he would have still known exactly what he was seeing. August had spent far more time playing video games than he would ever admit, so his mind immediately drew a comparison to a HUD.

A thin transparent line crossed the top of his vision, covered in notches and adorned with a tiny little ‘S,’ that moved about based on where he was looking. Turning his head further spun the notches, revealing more letters to each side; It was unmistakably a compass.

August discovered a small blue line at the bottom left of his sight, partially transparent, and pegged it as a Magic Meter. He checked the right-hand side, expecting to find a matching Health Meter, but there was nothing.

At the bottom, right in the center, a simple white line stretched a good way across. If this had been a video game, and he was looking at elements of a user interface, he would confidently say that it was some kind of Experience tracker.

The idea that these shapes and tools were somehow present in his vision was alarming on its own. How was he even seeing them? Was something projecting them into his eyes? Had someone glued in a pair of those high-tech contact lenses he’d seen on the internet? The reasoning why someone would do something like this to him eluded him entirely.

What was the purpose of all of this?

August sighed, eyeing the metal ring at the top of the pit. The lighting was pretty bad; something tall and dark green rose above the ring, shading the area. The slow disintegration of the hole was starting to worry him as well; being stuck at the bottom and having it collapse would be very, very bad.

“Operation get out of the pit and figure out what the heck is going on,” August said, pushing himself to his feet. “Mission start.”

August took a moment to look more critically at the walls and the general structure. The top of the hole was easily out of his reach, three or four times his height. There were roots, clay protrusions, and even rocks, most of which had been sheered off level with the walls.

Those were going to be how he got out of here, they would hold his weight, or at least he hoped they would. He sought out a pattern along the wall, planning a careful route to the top.

He pressed his finger into the dirt in front of him, digging into the clay and soil until he’d burrowed out a gap large enough to press his toes into. He’d have to do something similar when he got to those two roots.

August lifted his leg and got his foot in the gap before hooking his fingers around one of the roots. He lunged upwards, pulling against the root, and managed to get a hold of the next one above. He turned his face to the side as soil crumbled down onto his head and into his mouth.

Once he’d got his bearings again, he readjusted his hand on the root and then lunged upwards again, wrapping his entire hand around the thicker root that had been excavated when the soil had first started to fall. He managed it and quickly scrambled to dig his foot into the wall just above the lowest root.

August rested there, awkwardly clinging to the wall with all of his weight on the toes of his left foot. He was perhaps a quarter of the way up, and he stretched upwards for the next root, able to reach it without jumping.

He slid his right foot across the wall of the pit and dug a similar hole with his toes until it had something to hold his weight. He hesitated for a long moment, then jumped as hard as he could—his fingers hooked into the next root in a white-knuckled grip.

He strained to pull himself up enough to get his foot on the larger root he’d been holding onto and ended up in an unsteady crouch on top of it. It bent under his weight, scattering more soil away from where it emerged.

He was halfway up now, and he carefully stood up from his crouch, feeling the root bend dangerously. August took hold of a rock, and it came free of the soil, almost sending him off the edge. He clung to the wall for a moment, getting his hand hooked on the hole the rock had left.

“Fuck you, rock,” August said, heart, thudding in his chest.

He looked upwards, checking for a different handhold, and found one just out of reach. He spent a minute figuring out how to get to it, ending up switching his footing on the root until he was facing the other way and using the hole to stand on the other root. It brought him within range of the next one, and he put his foot in the rock’s hole.

Very carefully, August put his weight down on the hole, the clay depressing slightly; he gritted his teeth and then pushed off, snagging the root above. The hole gave way, and he was left hanging there by his right arm.

He kicked at the wall until he had an indent to dig his toes into again and then pushed up again, snagging the next root. His arms were starting to ache now, unused to the effort of holding his entire weight off the ground.

August kicked off the wall again, grabbed the next handhold, and lifted his legs up until his foot rested on the first root. He grunted, trying to twist himself into an upright position on top of it. When he finally managed it, he slowly stood up and lifted his hand. He felt his fingers curl around the edge of the metal ring, and for the first time since he’d began climbing, he felt truly secure.

He took a deep breath then pushed off the root; August hung from the ring and lifted his legs to his chest, managing to kick his leg up over the rim. It left him hanging above the middle of the pit, with his calf muscle clamped down onto it.

He reached further out of the pit, hooked his finger into the outer edge of the ring, and then pulled himself out of the hole with a grunt of effort. August flopped over onto his back next to the hole, panting for breath and his arms burning.

A bamboo forest towered above him, shrouded in a grey fog that further obscured the light. The shoots themselves were thick around and pressed against each other in dense clumps. A million yellow leaves, sticks, and rocks littered the forest floor, the debris from the quick-growing plant a veritable carpet beneath him.

There wasn’t some murderer waiting at the top of the pit to kick him back down or bury him alive. He was alone, in an unfamiliar forest, lying next to a hole in the ground. All the crunchy objects pressing into his naked back made the entire experience far less cathartic than it could have been, but he couldn’t help but feel proud of himself.

August just wished someone had been here for him to share the moment with; being alone had never been something he’d enjoyed.

“I’ve never felt so satisfied in my life,” August breathed, just to hear a voice in the silence. “Go me.”

The lack of response left him feeling uneasy, even though he hadn’t expected one. It reasserted the fact that his situation was a tenuous one and likely very dangerous. He could have easily fallen while climbing up, and he wondered if anyone would have even known where to look.

A chilling shriek rang out through the forest, loud, high-pitched, and completely inhuman.