The night passed in a haze.
I awoke, the first rays of dawn breaking through the canopy of trees above me. My body felt strangely… different. The pain that had plagued me the previous day had ebbed away, replaced by a curious sense of strength that wasn't there before. I tried to move, and this time, the effort didn't send shockwaves of agony through my limbs. My arms, though still a little stiff, didn't feel as fragile as they once had.
The voice echoed in my mind—clear, precise, and more… stable. The words were a relief. It seemed like my body had, against all odds, recovered overnight. The fractures in my stone form were still there, but they were no longer a constant source of pain.
I flexed my fingers and twisted my limbs, testing the extent of my recovery. I could move with ease now, albeit with a slight limp, but it was progress. It was enough to make me feel like I still had a chance.
But I couldn't ignore the lingering sense of loneliness that settled in my chest. The forest still stretched around me in every direction, untouched and untouched by human life. No one would come for me. I was still alone in this vast wilderness, a small, child-sized golem with no purpose beyond surviving.
I needed something. Something to remind me that I wasn't simply lost to this world.
That's when I heard it.
A soft, hesitant noise. A rustle in the underbrush, like something—or someone—was moving nearby. I instinctively froze, my heart racing for a split second as I tried to process the sound. I scanned the area, my eyes darting between the shadows of the trees.
I couldn't see anything, but the sound persisted, growing louder and closer. Was it a wild animal? A predator? My instincts told me to prepare for the worst, but curiosity tugged at me. Despite everything, I felt a strange pull toward the noise.
I cautiously shifted forward, careful to make as little noise as possible. My movements were slow, deliberate, my body still adjusting to the freedom of movement.
Then I saw it.
A small creature, peeking out from behind a thick cluster of ferns. At first, it was just a flicker of motion—something low to the ground, its eyes shining like two tiny, glowing embers in the dim light. It was a small, furry thing, with large ears and a twitching nose.
It was a rodent of some sort, but unlike any I'd seen back on Earth. Its fur was a rich, earthy brown, its tail long and bushy. It looked at me, and I swore I saw a flicker of recognition in its eyes, as if it had been watching me for longer than I had realized.
I froze, unsure what to do. Would it run away at the slightest movement? Would it attack me? But the creature didn't move. It simply stared at me with those gleaming eyes, unmoving.
Of course, my scan failed again. Nexus, once again, proved to be of no help in this moment. But even so, I couldn't shake the feeling that the creature wasn't afraid of me. It seemed curious, maybe even friendly.
I took a cautious step forward, lowering my hand toward it. I wasn't sure what I was doing—this small animal didn't exactly inspire confidence, but something in me longed for connection. I needed it. I needed something to show that I wasn't alone in this foreign world.
The creature didn't bolt. Instead, it took a step closer, sniffing the air as if testing the waters. And then, in an almost bizarre turn of events, it nuzzled my outstretched hand, rubbing its face against my palm in a show of affection.
I couldn't help but feel a flicker of warmth inside. Despite everything, despite the pain, the loneliness, this tiny creature seemed to accept me. Maybe it was nothing more than a wild animal seeking comfort or perhaps it had some kind of understanding that I couldn't grasp.
I gently ran my hand over its fur, a soothing motion. The creature seemed to enjoy it, purring lightly in response.
Another failure. But I didn't care. I wasn't looking for information anymore. I didn't need Nexus to tell me that this small creature wasn't an enemy. In that moment, I simply wanted to enjoy the simple connection—something I hadn't felt since… well, since I had been human.
I didn't know what to call it, but for now, the little creature became my companion in this vast, silent world. The weight of solitude felt a little less unbearable with it by my side.
I slowly rose to my feet, the creature hopping up to sit on my shoulder, its small body nestled against my neck. It was surprisingly comfortable there, and for the first time since my awakening, I didn't feel quite so alone.
I ignored the scan result. The creature would remain a mystery for now, but that was okay. I had something to focus on again—something to keep me going.
For now, it was just me and this small, unexpected companion. In this endless, uncaring forest, I wasn't truly alone anymore.
And that was enough.
I took my first steady step forward, my new friend nestled on my shoulder, as I set out to discover what else this world had in store for me.
The forest had become both my prison and my sanctuary. Each day bled into the next, a cycle of survival where every moment was a struggle to make it through. With no one around to help me and no place to turn, I was truly alone. My only company was the small, scrappy creature I had come to rely on—Pippin.
The tiny animal, with his dark fur and quick movements, had a knack for finding food. Day after day, he would venture into the forest, darting between trees and shrubs to gather whatever he could find. Small berries, mushrooms, fruits that hung from low branches—he was a natural forager.
Today was no different. As I wandered through the underbrush, still testing the limits of my fragile golem body, Pippin returned to me, his tiny paws clutching a handful of small, colorful fruits. His bright eyes gleamed with excitement as he hopped around, clearly proud of his find. He chirped at me, nudging the fruit toward my stone hands.
I glanced down at the fruits, the vivid colors almost mesmerizing in their brightness. They looked soft and sweet, the perfect thing to stave off the gnawing hunger that had been building in my chest. My stomach, though made of stone, could still feel the emptiness. My body yearned for sustenance, for the satisfaction of filling a void.
But that was the problem.
I couldn't eat.
I had no digestive system, no stomach to process the food. I was a golem, a being made of stone and magic, not flesh and blood. The fruit, no matter how tempting, would do nothing for me. It would sit there in my hands, unable to serve its purpose. My mouth could never taste it, my throat could never swallow it.
Pippin seemed to sense my frustration, sitting back on his haunches and tilting his head to one side, his little paws still gripping the fruits in front of me. I sighed, my chest heavy with a mix of longing and resignation.
The familiar voice of Nexus echoed in my mind, but it was little comfort. The scan, as always, returned no useful information. It couldn't find a solution for what I needed. The skill, which had once seemed so promising, had become a broken tool—just like me.
"Not helpful," I muttered under my breath, my voice low and gravelly. I let the fruits slip from my hands, watching as they rolled to the ground in front of Pippin. He squeaked in disappointment, but I could do nothing to change my situation.
Pippin's tiny paws darted to the fruit, and he began to nibble on one of the berries, his quick, delicate bites making short work of it. The small animal didn't seem to care that I couldn't share the meal. For a moment, I envied him. He could eat, he could enjoy life's simple pleasures, while I was left with nothing but stone.
"Don't worry about me," I muttered, though I wasn't sure why I bothered. It wasn't as if he could understand. He just kept eating, oblivious to my inner turmoil.
The forest was quiet, save for the sound of Pippin chewing on his berries. I wasn't sure how long I had been walking or how far I had gone, but it felt like an eternity. The silence was suffocating, and I longed for something—anything—to break it.
I glanced at the sky above, the sunlight filtering weakly through the canopy. The world was so alive, so full of energy, but I felt like I was fading, a hollow, stone shell with no purpose, no way to fit into this world.
Of course. Another failure. Nexus's voice was as empty as my stomach.
I slumped against a nearby tree, my cracked stone body heavy with exhaustion. I wasn't just hungry. I was tired—mentally and physically. The weight of loneliness pressed down on me like an unrelenting storm, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was just drifting through this strange world, waiting for something that might never come.
Pippin had finished his meal and now sat on my shoulder, his small body warm against my cool stone. He chirped and nudged me with his tiny nose, offering a kind of comfort I didn't fully understand. I didn't have the luxury of human emotions, but his presence was undeniably soothing. I wasn't truly alone, at least not in the way I had been when I first woke up in this form.
But that didn't change the fact that I was struggling. That I was a golem with no answers, no way forward. And the hunger—the gnawing emptiness—was becoming more than just a physical need. It was starting to feel like an emotional void too, one I couldn't fill.
I closed my eyes, trying to block out the feeling of helplessness.
Tomorrow, I would try again. Tomorrow, I would search for something I could eat—something that wouldn't make me feel this awful hunger. Maybe there was something in this forest I hadn't discovered yet. Or maybe, I was destined to be stuck in this form forever, a creature that could never truly experience the things that made life worth living.
But I wasn't ready to give up just yet.
Pippin jumped off my shoulder, darting into the brush again as if to remind me that even in a world like this, there were still things worth fighting for. His determination, so pure and simple, gave me a sense of resolve, however small it was.
For now, I would hold on to that.