The first thing Michael noticed once he stopped laughing was not the cabin that stood before him but the pavilion that was not too far from the cabin. The pavilion stood next to the stream that ended in the waterfall.
In the grounds behind the pavilion lived sparse trees, which eventually grew into a forest.
He went inside the cabin and combed through it. It was just a single room. And really, there was nothing. No place to search for anything.
Michael gave up and decided to take his chances with the pavilion. Just as he was about to leave the cabin, he saw something flashing from the corner of his eyes. The vibrant red light come from somewhere at the centre of the cabin. It seemed it was some kind of gemstone.
Michael approached it. It was a crystal that was a bit larger than a pea, growing brilliant red.
Michael eyed it. He prodded the thing with his toes before picking it up.
Michael surveyed the stone. It was shaped like a miniature version of coral found deep in the sea. His eyes widened when he realised what it was.
Cnidariaum, humanity's most valuable resource. The source of the cleanest energy they had found.
Two hundred years ago, an asteroid had collided with the earth, killing more than a twenty percentage of its life form. Indeed, which was supposed to be the greatest disaster in the history of mankind eventually turned into a blessing. For the asteroid had brought with it the Cnidariaum.
Two centuries after the asteroid strike, humanity had advanced their technologies to such an extent that they terraformed the planet Mars itself. It was all because of the discovery of the unknown element.
Even the rice grain sized piece of this mineral cost millions. He gulped. One larger than a pea would make anyone a billionaire. And Michael held one such crystal in his hand.
Is this a dream?
He dropped it without realising it. He kept his eye on the crystal on the floor. Why was such a valuable mineral lying in the middle of nowhere? It made no sense.
But then he remembered something. When the egg thing had disappeared, it had dropped something. At the time, he was too panicked to think about it. But now…
Michael looked around, thinking. What to do with it? It wasn't as if I could sell it now.
He thought for a long while before deciding to bury it and marked the location—just in case he forgot. When it was time to leave, he would fetch it. It might, no, it would come in handy. But he had no intention of flaunting his wealth to anyone. If he found anyone, that was. He had to be careful with it.
After he buried the crystal, he walked to the pavilion. Please, there has to be something useful there.
The wooden beams of the pavilion that must have weathered the elements of nature for who knew how long were now dull and almost rotting. Sunlight filtered through the thatched roof where parts of it had fallen off, casting an uneven light across the Pavilion. The floorboards screeched with each of his steps as if it was in unprecedented agony.
Michael barely gave attention to such details, giving them only a cursory glance. What interested him was the things that littered the pavilion.
Inside, pots and utensils were scattered across the floorboards as if someone had tossed them about or a child had thrown it in tantrums.
Fishing equipments hung haphazardly on the beams of the pavilion, their metallic parts rusted with disuse. Four overturned chairs surrounded a fire pit at the centre of the pavilion. Some of the sprawled plates had rotted fish bones in them.
Under a large table on the other side of the pavilion, Michael found a chest box, carved with strange runic inscriptions. It was secured with a large lock. But the lock had succumbed to rust, such that only a few hits of a stone destroyed it, allowing him to open it.
"Let's see what's inside."
Michael sighed in relief when he saw the contents. Three gleaming kitchen knives that had no hint of rust. It was probably stainless steel or silver. He didn't know the physical difference.
"Finally, something useful."
There had to be more. A knife alone would not help him. He needed more.
He searched the entire pavilion. He might find other things that were useful. Anything made-up of wood or metal that he found was mostly rotten or rusted to the point that he could break them in half with little to no pressure.
He found a flint and steel. Michael knew how to use them. He had seen it on TV. One of the fishing nets was still intact and workable. Everything else deserves to be burned.
Four pots as large as a barrel stood at the four corners of the pavilion. He approached one of them and opened the lid.
That was a huge mistake.
Michael gagged, and his stomach heaved.
"Argh, Fuck. That was awful."
Two years ago, Michael had once visited his neighbour for reasons he didn't remember. When he had entered his neighbour's house, the smell of rotten flesh had struck him like a hammer blow. Apparently, his neighbour had died about two weeks ago. The smell that came out of the pot before him was a thousand times worse than that.
"Gods, were those fish remains?"
Whatever it was—it was a black sludge with fish bones.
Shaking his head and after taking multiple fresh breath away from the disgusting pot, he approached the second of the four pots. He knew he was torturing himself by doing this, but he had to take inspect them. There could be something valuable in them.
He was wrong. Each pot was the same.
Michael ignored these pots for now and went next to the river to gut and clean the fish. He carried a cleanest plate with him and cleaned it further in the stream.
Once he was done with them, he came back carrying a well-prepared fish, ready for cooking. He also brought back a flat rock he had found submerged in the river. A perfect stone to cook his fish in.
He collected the wood from around the pavilion—there was more than enough—and used the flint and the stone to start a fire. It took him a multiple tries to do it.
"And mother said watching TV was useless. What will she think now when she learns I used the knowledge from the TV to survive in the wilderness?"
He waited for the fire to grow his strong before placing the stone he had brought with him over the fire. For a few minutes, nothing happened, then something popped.
What was happening? He thought the sound was coming from the flat rock. And before he knew it, the stone exploded. It wasn't a large explosion. The stone just broke into multiple pieces, a few of its shards flying through the air, one of which broke the skin in his cheek, drawing blood.
Michael gaped in astonishment. He did not understand. He had seen characters on TV use stone to cook their food in. Their stones hadn't exploded.
"So, why did my stone explode?"
Michael decided never to use rocks to cook his food in again.