Sumit stood frozen, staring at the lifeless body of the cat-man. The creature's sleek, muscular form lay crumpled on the ground, a stark reminder of the brutal fight that had just transpired. The coolness of the body, now devoid of life, sent a shiver down his spine. What is this place? he thought, his mind racing. How do I find my way back home? But the answers eluded him, leaving only a growing sense of dread.
As he hesitantly moved closer to the cat-man, a sharp, pungent smell filled the air—a mix of blood, sweat, and something oddly metallic. Sumit's stomach churned, but he forced himself to keep going. His thoughts were a chaotic whirl of confusion and fear. Was this some sort of twisted game? Or maybe a nightmare? The more he thought, the less sense it made.
Just as he was within reach of the cat-man's body, a sudden, unexpected movement caught his eye. The massive body of the plant-bull, which he had assumed was dead, began to twitch. His breath caught in his throat as the creature's chest convulsed, and then, something metallic burst out, glinting ominously in the dim light.
Sumit barely had time to react before the object—a strange, otherworldly device—launched itself toward him. He tried to dodge, but it was too fast. The device wrapped around his wrist with a cold, unyielding grip, resembling a watch, though unlike any he had ever seen. Panic surged through him as he yanked at the object, trying desperately to tear it off. But it was no use. The device clung to him like a living thing, and from within, a series of strange, rhythmic clicks and hums began to emanate.
What the hell is this? Sumit thought frantically, his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the device pulsing slightly against his skin, as if it had a heartbeat of its own. Yet, despite the fear clawing at him, he noticed that the device wasn't causing him any harm. Gradually, his panic ebbed away, replaced by cautious curiosity.
As he began to calm down, a voice—cold, mechanical—suddenly spoke from the device. "User found."
Sumit jerked in surprise, his eyes widening. "What…what are you?" he stammered, his voice shaky.
"The user is too weak," the device responded in its flat, unfeeling tone.
Sumit blinked, taken aback by the words. Too weak? The phrase echoed in his mind, striking a nerve. It was almost insulting. The device reminded him of the gadgets in comics and anime—those mysterious items that kept track of the hero's status and abilities. Could this be something like that?
"Open status!" he commanded, hoping for a glimpse into its secrets. Maybe this would show him some hidden strength, a way to survive in this insane world. But instead, the device replied with the same frustrating message: "The user is too weak."
Sumit felt a wave of irritation wash over him. "Where am I? How do I get home? Where is everyone else?" he demanded, firing off questions in rapid succession. But each time, the device only repeated its infuriating refrain: "The user is too weak."
His shoulders slumped in defeat. It was like talking to a broken record. "Can you help me at all?" he asked, desperation creeping into his voice.
"User can receive one piece of advice as a hint," the device offered, its tone unchanging.
Sumit's heart skipped a beat. A hint? His mind raced with possibilities. "What kind of advice?" he asked, leaning in as if the device might whisper some profound secret.
"It will help the user in the future in completing the task," the device intoned.
Sumit frowned. "What task?" he pressed, but once again, the device's answer was maddeningly vague: "The user is too weak."
He groaned, rubbing his temples. This thing was going to drive him insane. But still, something was better than nothing. "Fine, I'll take the advice," he sighed. "What is it?"
The device emitted a soft hum, as if processing his request, then finally spoke. "Take the belongings of the fallen and take part in the competition."
Sumit's mind reeled. Competition? The word hung heavily in the air. Did that mean there was some kind of event coming up? A trial, perhaps? And why would taking the belongings of the dead be necessary? The thought of robbing the cat-man's body made his stomach churn with guilt, but if this device was to be believed, it was something he needed to do to survive. Was it really okay to steal from the dead? he wondered, feeling a sharp pang of discomfort at the thought.
But survival was paramount. With a deep breath, Sumit approached the cat-man's body, his steps slow and deliberate. Kneeling beside it, he hesitated, murmuring a silent apology. Carefully, he began to gather the items—a small pouch of silver coins, a strange, slate-like tablet, and the cat-man's clothing, which still held a faint warmth. The clothes were rough against his skin as he put them on, but they fit well enough. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was stepping into another's life, a heavy burden of responsibility pressing on his shoulders.
After securing the items, Sumit dug a pit beside the cat-man, the dirt cool and damp beneath his fingers. He laid the body to rest as respectfully as he could manage, offering a quiet prayer for peace. When he turned to the bull's corpse, he repeated the process, though this time, he discovered a peculiar, fleshy fruit and a sturdy staff embedded in the creature's remains. He took them, feeling their weight in his hands as he considered their purpose.
With both bodies buried, Sumit found himself standing at a crossroads—quite literally. While digging the pits, he had noticed a narrow path leading away from the clearing. It wasn't much, but it was the only direction available to him. The path seemed to stretch into the unknown, winding through dense, shadowed woods that loomed like silent sentinels.
With no other choice, Sumit tightened his grip on the staff and began to walk, each step taking him further from the safety of the known and deeper into the mysteries of this strange world. As he walked, the device on his wrist remained silent, its earlier coldness a constant reminder of how little he knew—and how much he had yet to learn.