The world beyond the village is as harsh as the stories claimed. I set out with little more than a few meal bars and a heavy heart. The mountains were my first trial; the roads of yesterday have crumbled, forcing me to climb over treacherous paths where the landscape itself feels hostile.
As dusk began to settle, I thought I had found a moment of peace. I made camp by a wild fruit tree, the simple act of foraging a small comfort against the overwhelming wilderness. But I was wrong. As I finished my meager meal, a glow appeared in the darkness, and a hulking machine—a Buster T7—came charging out of the night. I had nothing but my fists; I knew I couldn't fight it.
I turned to run, but it was on me in an instant. A crushing blow sent me reeling, bruising my ribs. I scrambled to get away, my legs feeling like lead, but I couldn't escape its reach. It struck me again, and again, until the world went dark.
Then... I blinked. The pain was gone. I was standing at the edge of the mountains, right where I had started the day, the sun high overhead. It was as if it never happened. A nightmare? It felt too real. Shaken, I pushed forward, back into the same unkind peaks.
Unbelievably, it happened again. Not a machine this time, but a creature of pure rage—a massive Grolar Bear, breathing heavily as it trapped me on the edge of a cliff. There was no way out. It was over before it even began. One powerful swipe sent me to the ground, and the world faded to black once more.
Twice, I have woken up at the start of the day with the memory of my own end. I don't understand how this is happening, but I have no choice but to press on. My third attempt took me down a different path, to the skeletal remains of an old coal mine. Inside, I found a grim sight: an elevator cage trapped in the shaft, filled with skeletons still in their work uniforms. One had an arm hanging outside the bars, reaching for a help that never came. I checked his pockets and found two bits. As I pulled the coins free, the ancient elevator cable snapped, and the cage plunged forever into the abyss. I got out of there quickly. That night, I finally found a quiet place to rest, the two small coins a cold comfort in my hand.
I left the mountains behind and ventured into a forest. Deep within the trees, I stumbled upon an impossible sight: a massive, brutalist concrete church, its giant stained-glass windows shattered and nature crawling back inside to cover the pews in vines. The air was cold and silent, the only sound a slow, steady drip of water from the leaking roof.
On the podium, caught in a single ray of sunshine, was a small wooden donation bowl holding four bits. My own pockets were nearly empty. I took the offering.
"Brave of you," a voice rasped behind me.
I spun around to see another machine, a Buster T, its club raised to strike. This time, I didn't hesitate. I dodged the first swing and just ran. Its club clipped me as I scrambled past, but I didn't stop. I burst out of the church doors and fled into the woods, not looking back until I was sure I was safe. I've marked the church on my map—a place to avoid at all costs.
I survived another day. I have a few bits to my name now, but this world is deadlier than I could have imagined.