With a start, Alan abruptly sits up in his tent, his attention piqued and nerves on edge as if he had just heard something. But, listening closely, the only thing he can hear is the river gently flowing. It had already became apparent yesterday, but ever since he woke up on the ship piece, not only has he not seen any living creatures, he's not even heard any. No cries or chirps of birds. No howling of wolves, or calls of other animals. Even insects and their noises are strangely absent in this forest. Yesterday, he was too distracted with everything that had already happened to realize such an oddity, but with a surprisingly good night's sleep, the situation is more noticeable.
Making his way out of the tent, Alan is surprised to see that it had somehow sunk into the tree's crown. However, on closer examination, he concludes it would be more accurate to say the tree grew around the tent. Such a thing might have seemed absurd before, but Alan has already come to the conclusion that he's either dead, or in a place devoid of 'common sense' as he knows it.
After carefully removing it from the neatly shaped depression, the tent is quickly disassembled and stowed away in the bag. The bandages on his arm are then removed, and to his surprise, the wound doesn't look that bad. It has scabbed over and doesn't exactly look pretty, but based on the way it looked yesterday, he was sure it was much larger and deeper than it seemed to be now. Regardless of any such discrepancies, he cleans the area and applies new bandages. The last thing he needs in this situation is an infected wound.
Quickly descending the tree, Alan moves onto his next step: Following the river downstream until civilization is found, or die trying. Not that he was a fatalist, but in a situation like this... Those really are the two options. There has been no sign of fish in the river, nor any fruits growing from the forest plants. Tubers and leaves might be an option, but what's poisonous and what's not isn't known, so attempting to stave off starvation may instead be a significant gamble with his life.
Kilometer after kilometer, over the course of the day, Alan continues trekking along the river. While not good for vision, the trees do fortunately have the advantage of providing good cover from the sun. His clothes, while quite durable, are less than ideal as Alan had dressed for a spaceship, not a nature hike exposed to the elements; the portion he tore away to initially dress his wound makes his shirt look ragged already.
'I'm just glad I'm not too banged up after the.... Crash? Can I call that a crash? But a crash, followed by nonstop hiking and sleeping in the tree, I should be more exhausted... Maybe it's the survival rations...' Despite the events so far, he was actually feeling better than he had in years. Not having any other entertainment, and being proven right over and over about the suspected absence of any other creatures in this forest, Alan finds his mind wandering as he continues his trek along the river.
Hour after Hour.
Kilometer after Kilometer.
As the sun seems to be cresting its arc, Alan stops along the river. Sitting on a rock, he pulls out the rations and water. Being conservative with how much he's eating, he only takes out small portions at a time. He'd rather stretch out the food and slowly go hungry, than suddenly run out of food because he couldn't find another source in time.
'Besides, I could do with losing some weight,' he thinks as he glances at his somewhat overweight body. Finally finishing the first bottle of water, he fills it up from the filter side and sets it in his bag. The bottle works on a simple principle using highly advanced materials; a membrane separates the two masses, and water from the impure side slowly filters into the pure side. Ingenious and perfect for survival, Alan is glad the person who put together the survival kit didn't cheap out on these like they had for the commlink.
As he's putting away the food, a few larger crumbs fall onto the side of the rock and tumble out of sight, presumably onto the ground. Cursing at the waste, no matter how minor, he goes to look at how much he lost, only to find nothing. Confused, but curious, he crumbles another few tiny pieces from the block, and tosses it directly onto the ground. As soon as it lands, tiny green tendrils, so small as to barely be seen, poke up from the ground and touch the crumbs.
The tendrils split open at their ends and expand around the crumbs, engulfing them, before pulling back under the surface. The whole action took barely two seconds.
"I... Uh..." stammers Alan. With a heavy gulp, he finishes with, "I'm glad I... Didn't sleep on the ground...." While he certainly hasn't seen any attempt on his own body yet, yet is the operative word. When it comes to your own life in an unknown situation, caution is key. And sleeping out of reach of those roots from now on would probably be quite prudent.
'Is that... Why there are no animals or insects here?' The possibility sends a shiver down his spine.
Alan swipes his bag up off the rock and starts walking along the river, this time with a noticeably heightened pace. After continuing to walk for the rest of the day, occasionally stopping to eat and drink, another 44 kilometers has been crossed today. Right as the sun begins to set, a perfect clearing appears before Alan.
At least 300 meters across, almost the entire clearing is covered with a rocky formation, with not a plant in sight. At the center of the roughly rectangular area of stone is a raised portion, roughly four meters above the ground, with some recesses in one side that seem almost to have been carved as a rough ladder. Climbing to the top, it's quick work to once more set up the tent.
With another cautious check of the perimeter, Alan puts his mind as much at ease as he can, considering the situation. Entering into his tent once more, he lays down for the night. The sounds of the wind through the leaves and the river seem more ominous, now that the lack of animals might have a real answer.
Yet, despite this discomfort, he still manages to sleep.
The sun is barely up when he wakes up once more, tense but not tired, to his surprise. He originally believed he would have a terrible night's sleep, but small blessings are appreciated when available, and such a great rest leaves him awake and alert. Once more going through the motions of packing up the tent and having his morning meal, he quickly replaces the bandage on his arm, finding the speed it's healing at very surprising. While the area is still tender, it's already far enough healed that the bandages might not be needed. Still, it's better safe than sorry, so he finishes the job properly before heading over to the edge of the clearing.
At the edge, there are some roots that have grown up over top of the stone by a few feet, yet the farther into the stone the roots are, the more unhealthy they look, up to the tips which appear completely wilted. Such a thing is present all along the edge of the stone, barring the portion bordering the river. However, the roots don't have any reaction as Alan walks near, and even on, them. With a few careful steps, he's once more back on the dirt and following the path of the river.
In a similar fashion another day passed in eerie near silence, ending early when another large rocky area presents itself an hour or so before sunset. Once again, the same phenomenon occurs overnight, the roots seemingly attempting to get onto the stone, only to wilt. To Alan's concern, however, the roots have made it several feet farther on this stone platform. Whether that's because they're getting stronger in this direction or stronger with time, the possibility of both is worrying. However, following the river is still his best choice. Setting out once more, Alan walks for nearly another day. The rate at which his arm is healing is a blessing, but also very concerning, as he's not sure what could be causing it.
Unlike the last two days, no convenient place to sleep presents itself, and those roots are beginning to get more than a little scary. Maybe it's just his imagination, but Alan occasionally sees movement near the roots out of the corner of his eye. As a result, he simply continues walking throughout the night along the river. It doesn't seem that the roots are coming out because of the night, but rather because he was in one place for too long, as his trek through the night has no problems beyond occasionally scaring himself over what he thought he might have seen. This is clearly sub-optimal, and he's worried more urgently worried for his survival now.
Over the course of the next day, he finds himself yawning incessantly and zoning out from time to time. There is even one instance where he nearly fell asleep on a small rock, barely a meter across, because he sat down to eat. After that, he considered sitting as a banned activity until he could sleep. But it isn't until just after the sun begins to set that the forest suddenly parts to give way to a clearing with a lone tree in the middle, much taller than the rest. On the side of the clearing opposite the river, roughly fifty meters from him, Alan saw a small, rocky cliff, maybe thirty meters high, with a cave in the front of it.
Having no other good option at this point and with a mind inhibited by a lack of sleep and his fatigue caused by constant hyper vigilance against the trees, he takes the presented campsite. Failing to hear any noises emanating from the cave other than a steady inward wind, he enters the cave and walks roughly twenty meters before reaching a fork in the path.
The tunnel on the left has a steep downward angle, though not too steep to walk down, that seems to go straight for as far as the flashlight shines. The tunnel on the right, in contrast, stays level with a turn not far down. Taking what seems to be the more obvious option, Alan goes right. After rounding the corner and another thirty meters, a sudden right turn leaves him in a space roughly large enough to fit a bus, and luckily completely empty.
With a quick but hopefully thorough inspection, he's satisfied that there's nothing wrong with the cave and sets up his tent. With a snack before bed, Alan crawls into his tent and falls asleep.
He once again wakes up the next morning, roughly an hour after sunrise according to his timepiece, and goes through the motions of putting away his tent and eating his breakfast. When he goes to re-bandage his arm, he's surprised to find that it's already finished healing, and without even a scar or scab. Even as fast as it was healing, he was sure it would take another few days. Maybe there's something in the rations? Or maybe it's this weird place? Regardless of the cause, he can't discover it right now, so he heads out towards the entrance of the cave where immediately he finds a problem.
Whereas the entrance was completely clear the night before, it's now completely tangled up with a mass of roots. If it wasn't for the tiny pinpricks of sunlight managing to sneak through and the quiet whistling of air passing the roots to enter the cave, Alan might not have even believed that was the way he entered the previous night. However, trying to get the roots out of the way isn't an option. Grabbing them to pull them out of the way is useless, and no matter how hard he hacks with the head of the collapsible titanium spear, he can't do more than score the roots.
It wasn't that the spearhead wasn't sharp; it could easily embed itself into rock even with Alan's admittedly weak strength. It simply couldn't do anything against these abominable roots. Stuck with no other option, he instead takes the other path into the cave, venturing deeper with the hope that maybe there's another exit.
For almost an hour, the cave tunnel just keeps stretching out, mostly a roughly straight path, but with the occasional small turns. Even with the rare deviations, the path is still too straight to be formed by natural processes. The question is, was it formed by a machine or by some kind of creature? The lack of branches only further cements this suspicion. Despite the depth, he can still feel a steady flow of air moving past him and into the tunnel ahead, an oddity which fortunately is keeping the air fresh. It isn't until nearly two more hours of walking that a sound, other than footsteps, can be heard.
A distant rumbling noise slowly got louder and louder, until it became clear for what it was: the sound of running water. With another hour of walking, right as the sound reached its loudest, a faint blue glow drifted lazily around the bend. Approaching the apparent end of the tunnel, Alan turns the corner only to find a magnificent sight.
Before him was a massive cavern easily a few kilometers across with large, faintly glowing blue crystals in the ceiling, walls, and floors. From one side of the cavern, a waterfall comes out of a hole in the wall, as it lands in a massive lake that takes up three quarters of the large space. At the opposite end to the waterfall is another cave tunnel following the path of this river. Large rock spires bridge the floor and ceiling, their only competition in height being massive, towering mushrooms that are found her aplenty. Glowing blue particles are suspended in the air, forming spontaneously and disappearing just as spontaneously, finishing a look that gives this subterranean locale an air of mysticism.
The air has a nice, cooling feeling. With each breath Alan takes, he feels himself become more awake and alert, and his mind becomes clearer and clearer.
He takes a deep breathe and exhales, feeling refreshed. "Ah, so invigorating!"
Unfortunately, despite the pleasant environment, an hour of searching this cavern bore no fruits. There are no signs of any animals, or people, here either. Just mushrooms, crystals, and some weird blue grass. Just in case, however, he does grab some of the glowing blue crystals that had wound up knocked onto the ground, along with some of the grass and small mushrooms. If nothing else, he might satisfy his curiosity later. Each of them was put into a small, black plastic bag and placed in his pack.
The grass and mushrooms might be edible and just seem interesting for their faint blue glow, while the crystals give off a soft blue glow about equal to a torch. The locator has a flashlight, but it recharges by solar input, so there's the possibility of it running out if he needs to go through more dark tunnels and caverns.
The only other exit from this river cavern is Alan's next goal. Heading through the cavern by once again following a river, he continues on with light provided by the blue crystals which also grow haphazardly all along this tunnel. Like before, his hike was monotonous and only interrupted by the occasional stop to eat some food. About the time the sun should be setting above, Alan makes his camp at the river side and quickly turns in for the night. He wakes up several times in the night and checks his campsite in paranoid fashion, but nothing changes.
The next morning, he's glad to see no more scares like the roots on the surface. As far as he can tell, nothing has moved at all, barring the river, since last night. Once more, Alan sets out following the river. After almost another day of following the river, the monotony finally ends. The river feeds into a large pool which, judging by the whirlpool in the center, is draining downwards. Stopping the continued path forward is a clearly and undeniably artificial wall, made of metal, with a door situated at the top of a small flight of stairs.
Everything has a look of extreme age. Whether the metal wall, the stone stairs, or the metal door, they're all showing the signs of having aged, the seemingly once ornate decorations now nubs barely hinting at their past. The door has a handle, but if it's meant to be turned, it's obviously been rusted or sealed shut. And considering the only other option to leave this underground area would be a whirlpool of unknown depth, getting through the door is a necessity.
After several minutes of trying to find a non-destructive way of getting through, Alan gives up and just starts to kick the door as hard as he can right near the handle. The first attempt has him embarrassingly bouncing off the door and landing on his back end with no results. The second and third attempts are only slightly better as he didn't lose his balance. It isn't until the eighth kick, though, that the door finally swings open. Or, rather, it just falls directly into the room.
*Cough, cough*
With the heavy falling of the door to the ground, a large cloud of dust is kicked up and moves out of the door frame. Having not considered this possibility, Alan is hit directly in the face and gasps, breathing the dust into his lungs and sending himself into a short coughing fit. Once he regains his bearings, though, he gingerly steps into the shadowy room beyond the door frame.