Another groggy morning, another ephemeral sense of having been elsewhere. Why can't I just remember the dreams? I wondered as I shook my head from side to side in an effort to get my eyes to focus properly. A strange sensation was flittering across my body, and I quickly found out what it was when I pushed the branches and leaves off my myself: I was covered in numerous small insects that appeared to be crossing my body as if I was some kind of obstruction. I brushed them off and stood up, examining myself for bite marks. Mercifully there were none.

The makeshift drying rack I had set up over the fire looked far worse in the morning sunlight than it had the previous night. What I had intended to be a reasonably even structure with crossed stick legs being used to prop up another set of crossed sticks laid horizontally in the center was actually more like a series of unevenly-cut branches that was held together by nothing more than perfectly counterbalanced forces and sheer luck. The fire had long since burnt itself out, and it looked as though a few of the pieces of meat had fallen into it.

The meat that was to be smoked looked alright, mostly. My stomach growled and churned as I gazed upon it, prompting me to grab a piece and bite into it. The meat was very tough, almost leather-like, but the taste was fine. I gobbled it down quickly and removed another piece, this time on the opposite side of the rack to avoid unbalancing it. I bit in, and my body forced me to gag on the raw venison and spit it out. As the piece that had been in my mouth hit the ground, a number of crawling insects swarmed overtop of it and began fighting for it. I really do need to make sure I avoid setting up things like this when I'm tired, I thought, though I'd prefer to find a way to switch off this annoying behavior if possible.

About half of the meat that I actually managed to extract and smoke was cooked or dried, pieces that had fallen off into the fire or onto the ground notwithstanding. The other half was still raw. I quickly figured out that it was the thickness of the meat that made most of the difference, the slimmer cuts had dried, but the more bulky ones were still raw inside. As much as I hated to throw away food I had resolved to move further inland and had no time to try to cook the non-edible bits.

As I bundled up the meat for carrying I finally began to pay attention to my nose. There had been information swimming in from it since I had awoken, but I had ignored it since most of that information was useless to me anyway. Now though, a breeze of fresh air had briefly caused that information to change and the warnings contained therein to stop, then start again with renewed vigor. I sniffed around, then looked to the side of the creek some distance behind me, then knew what was going on.

The skeleton and leftover meat of the deer was also covered in insects which were picking it clean, as was the hide. As I walked over to take a look the warnings in my nose suddenly spiked, and I recoiled automatically from the strength. Who knew it was even capable of sending that strong of a signal? I thought to myself as I pinched my nostrils shut. The smell of the rot was sending out a warning so strong that it was almost as though it had created a physical barrier around the corpse. Looking down at myself, I saw the caked-on blood of the deer and smelled some of the stench coming from myself as well. At least I'm near the creek, I thought with a mental shrug.

Stench. I knew that word, and had heard it used many times. I had used it myself in the proper contexts, and I had thought I understood the meaning of it. As I learned once I emerged from the creek, I had no understanding of it at all. Washing the blood and sweat from my body had only renewed my nose's annoyance at the deer's body. Since I could not disable it, I had to put the rest of my makeshift clothing back on while trying to ignore signals so strong that they were comparable to ones that I would feel if under critical damage. The experiences likely aren't equivalent, I thought, but this must be why warbreed hate being around rotten corpses so much.

My basic waist and genitalia covering was beginning to break down. The multiple days of abuse I had given the leaf had frayed its edges badly and the material was drying out and becoming brittle. I looked back at the camp as I prepared to leave, deciding whether or not I should go back and try to get a piece of the hide to use instead. I knew about as much about tanning as I did about smoking meat, so I decided that the endeavor was not worth the effort. I'll find something else to use, I said to myself, then set out north again.

The dried venison provided me with a large amount of energy, allowing me to break into a continuous jog for multiple hours. Even with the rocks and tools weighing me down I felt as though I had been filled with power. Looking at my heads-up display, I could see the green bar and its constituent bars had risen quite a lot since I had last checked them, and the ever-mysterious purple bar looked good as well. The rocky terrain was no obstacle to my experienced stride as I weaved around outcroppings and between trees, ever vigilant for signs of civilization.

Noon came and went and I stopped running. My body had broken into a sweat some distance into my trip but I had paid it no mind out of habit. Then, I happened to check the purple bar in my heads-up display on a whim and saw that it was very low. My mouth had also become physically dry at some point. Looking at the constituent bars, one was dangerously low and another had lowered by a full half-length since my departure. As my body heaved in air, simulating exhaustion, I stopped to think. Could the purple bar be related to short-term stamina? I wondered, But then, where is the heat section? Overheating is more of a danger to me than running out of water.

I saw a fruit tree and stopped to test what was growing on it. The large turquoise bulbs burst as I bit into them, revealing pleasant-tasting and watery flesh. Convenient, I thought as I ate my fill, examining the purple bar as I did. As expected, the one bar which had been critically low was filling back up at a faster speed than it had been before. The others were filling slowly as well, with the exception of a single bar which sat idly at half. It has to be some kind of stamina measurement, I concluded, I wonder what happens if I empty one completely? My breathing slowed but experimentation would have to wait.

My wandering eyes locked onto a patch of ground and instantly drew information into my mind. Footprint, booted, looks male, foot length would suggest juvenile with a height of roughly one hundred and seventy centimeters, unknown style, I rattled off in my head in an instant. Even without a proper overlay to display the tracking information, my eyes were easily able to find more prints and determine a general path by observing nearby plants. I knelt down and sniffed at the print, hoping to detect something which might give me an impression of its age. Judging by the faint smell of feces, the print was not very old.

Spear drawn, I followed the trail with renewed focus. All the wandering thoughts and jumbled motivations that had been in my mind earlier in the day were banished, leaving nothing but cold silence and logical deduction. I scanned my eyes back and forth as I moved, sweeping a pattern across the scene in front of me designed to select the most likely locations for additional tracking information. My hand gripped my stone spear, ready to lash out in an instant if I was taken by surprise. I was in my element, finally.

The tracks led to a small cave in the side of one of the vertical rock faces that dotted the terrain. The particular face in question was close to five meters tall compared to the ground directly below it, but sat in a sort of divet. The lower ground near the bottom meant that it was only around two and a half meters above the average elevation of the area. The cave itself was not large, nor did it reach to a great depth into the rock. Becoming too small to traverse just eight meters in, it was more of a small tunnel than a stereotypical cave. It did, however, have remnants of a campfire inside it.

Despite my best efforts I couldn't find much of a trail leading away from the cave. The ground was getting harder and only grew more firm to the north, which was probably where the person who had spent time in the cave had gone after leaving. Looking at the sun, I figured I had a few hours before darkness fell and resolved to go even further before the day was finished. Given the evidence it was quite obvious that I was near some kind of settlement, so I decided to keep scouting. Once I find a person, I can figure out where I am and how to proceed with this farce of a mission, I thought.

I set out northwards again, going more slowly than before because of the increasingly rocky terrain. Oddly, trees still dotted the landscape as though they were sprouting from the gravel itself. Maybe they're genetically tweaked as well? I wondered. It was certainly possible to make a plant that could feed on rocks. I had used one myself once to destroy a concrete bunker's integrity. That mission was very satisfying, I thought as I recalled how the entire interior of the base had been reduced to gravel with a single bunker buster, leaving the tribe of warbreed mystified as to how their “indestructible home” had been so easily blown up.

The rocky terrain abruptly shifted back to a more soft soil after a small dip in elevation. My feet, which had been gently informing me that they were suffering repeated contact damage, stopped complaining as they finally found soft plants beneath them again. I walked for another few minutes then stopped when I heard the sound of a snapping branch far to my left. Instantly, and on instinct, I dove into cover. Peeking out around a tree I saw motion some fifty meters from me. Could be another deer, I thought, drawing my spear.

I crept up, making sure to keep out of the sight lines of anything downrange from me, and kept my ears focused. There was another snap, quieter this time, then something that sounded like an animal call. The call helped me re-position my evaluation of my target and I adjusted my own position accordingly, re-routing to keep minimal visibility from the new direction I was going in. The soft soil and grass muffled the sounds of my feet, and I made sure that each step was not landing on anything which could make noise. The animal called out again, this time sounding as though it was just ten meters away or so, and I felt myself grow more alert. That wasn't a call, I thought, that was speech.

Stowing my spear, I peeked around the tree I was hiding behind and through a bush to see a bipedal figure standing in the woods looking east. It wore thick brown clothing across its whole body, along with a hood that concealed its face, but it was unmistakably some variety of human. In one hand it held a spear with a metal tip, and in its other hand it held some kind of foodstuff that it was chewing on. Its posture indicated relaxation, non-anticipation of any form of attack. Foolish, I thought as I reached into my rock bag, you're carrying almost everything I need too, what luck. Looks like I can find your settlement the easy way.

I pulled my arm back then froze. What if it's relaxed because it has backup? I thought, then quickly looked around. If I went through with what I was about to do and there was another human within visual range it would be a disaster. My panicked eyeballs shot between trees and cover, then the human started to turn from the east towards the south, where I stood barely concealed and ready to strike. Anticipation shot through me and my mind went into overdrive, then silenced itself.

There was no more time for hesitation. My arm whipped forwards and the rock left my grasp, sailing through the air at well over one hundred kilometers per hour. A slight whistle sounded out for a moment, followed by a wet thump and a grunt, then a much larger thump. The human crumpled just like I knew it would, and I felt a rush as powerful as the one I felt the first time I had ever killed. Wait, wasn't I trying to just knock him out?