He quickly tapped on a Stone Axe Crafting Recipe, he'd picked up earlier and combined 1 Stone with 1 Plank to make a second stone axe, hoping an extra tool might come in handy.
"This isn't much, but it's better than nothing," he said with a humorless chuckle.
Next, Logan took stock of everything he had:
[Floating Stone x60]
[Azure Essence Bead x1]
[Amber Essence Bead x3]
[Frozen Meat Bun (80g) x1]
[Purified Water (500ml) x2]
[RC Toy Airplane x1]
[Remote Control x1]
[Stone x8]
[Wooden Plank x137]
[Stone Axe x1 (just crafted another, so total 2)]
[Refined Iron x5]
[Green Vine Seed x4]
[Watermelon Seed x5]
[Toilet Paper (10 rolls) x2]
[Blanket x1]
[Duvet x1]
[Green Shell x1 (unopened)]
He glanced at the final item—an odd shell shimmering with faint green patterns. The system had labeled it a [Green Shell], requiring an [Azure Essence Bead] to open. It came with a warning:
[Use Azure Essence Bead to open Green Shell? (Yes – No)]
[Note: This shell may contain rare resources… or a living creature.]
Logan frowned. "If something dangerous comes out, I'm dead meat," he muttered. His physical strength, though somewhat boosted, wasn't enough to handle powerful monsters. And with no proper weapon, he could only pray that luck was on his side.
For now, he decided not to open the shell. Being the first person to die in this region—especially during the novice safety period—was not how he planned to go out.
Around nine o'clock at night, Logan finally settled into his new thatched house. He spread out his Blanket on the floor, pulled off his sweaty clothes, and curled up under his Duvet. Outside, the Arcane Ice Sea lapped gently against the shore, and a soft breeze whistled across the island. Compared to other survivors who might be exposed to the elements, Logan considered himself lucky to be warm and sheltered.
Despite the comfortable setting, his mind was restless. When he finally fell asleep, strange voices invaded his dreams:
"Help me! Somebody, please!"
"It's the end of the world—why not do whatever I want?"
"Murder! Call the hospital! No—there's no hospital anymore!"
"Who's going to save you now? Everything's in ruins!"
He saw images of chaos—people screaming, rioting, hurting each other. It was like witnessing society's total collapse. In the dream, he stood at a hospital window, staring down at a nurse being assaulted in broad daylight. Passersby watched with blank faces or simply ran, terrified. Buildings were on fire, streets were in disarray, and a dark haze filled the sky.
Then the dream changed. He was suddenly in outer space, an insignificant speck floating in a vast universe. Two monstrous figures dominated the cosmos, their forms so huge that entire galaxies quaked when they spoke. Their voices echoed, shattering stars into dust.
"SACRED DEMON EMPEROR," rumbled one of the titans. "You and I have battled for countless ages. I'm weary of this endless fight. Let's make one final wager."
"Speak, ASTRAL EMPEROR," the other answered, the vacuum of space trembling at every syllable.
They mentioned something called the "beginningless star" and recalled past bets. Planets disintegrated like sand underfoot as they moved. The Astral Emperor's voice then thundered again:
"Remember that star? We wagered over it in the past, and I always lost. But I'm out of options now. The bet involves us—and the survival of that star." A cold, emotionless tone filled the void, destroying more celestial bodies in its path.
The second figure—whom the first had called the Sacred Demon Emperor—paused before agreeing: "Very well. Let this be the last time."
Logan's vision shifted once more, revealing a female voice crying out: "Master, we've lost the war up there, and you're gravely injured. Are we… truly finished?"
"I can only place one final bet," replied a frail but determined voice. "If we fail, our world ends right here. Perhaps the inhabitants of that star can surprise us. That's my only hope. Cough… I'm so tired…"
A beam of light struck Logan, followed by overwhelming darkness. He bolted awake with a shout, drenched in sweat. Inside the thatched house, it was still the dead of night.
Logan threw off his damp Duvet, tugged on his clothes, and stepped outside. Cool night air chilled his skin, and the stars overhead twinkled like shards of crystal. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. "So that's what led us here," he said, recalling those cosmic beings and the devastation on Earth. "We're just pawns in some godlike war."
He sat on a rock near the water, gazing at the waves. The island felt eerie at night, larger yet emptier than before. Somewhere out there, other survivors might be screaming, starving, or huddled in fear of the unknown. Logan inhaled sharply. "I'm no savior," he whispered. "But I sure as hell don't want to be fodder for those giants."
He shouted into the darkness, his voice echoing across the black sea. Nothing answered except the wind and the sloshing of dark waves. At length, he turned his focus to a tall evergreen tree he remembered chopping down earlier in the day.
In the starlight, he thought he saw two new evergreen trees standing there, one in the exact spot he had cut before. "What on earth…?" he murmured. Rubbing his eyes, he walked over for a closer look. But when he arrived, he found nothing but the 17 Wooden Planks he had collected earlier.
"Was I just seeing things?" he muttered. Perhaps the nightmares had rattled him more than he realized. The island's strange energy might also be playing tricks on his mind.
Letting out a weary sigh, Logan returned to his thatched house. Even though confusion and anxiety weighed on him, the best he could do was keep pushing forward. Come morning, he would decide whether to risk opening the Green Shell or to find another path toward survival in this world torn between cosmic emperors and humanity's last hope.