The opening to the den was positioned somewhere in the middle of a dense forest, covered by the underbrush of giant oak trees. The intelligent arachnids that decided to make it their home carved out a secret pathway through the shrubs and greenery, leaving it perfectly hidden away. These creatures made it treacherous for anything to find, much less invade, their nest. The opening itself was concealed in tangled vines and foliage, and it had a specific way of traversal to not get caught.
That was, until whatever monstrous creature came and razed the entire area to the ground. The brushes that once concealed the flawless secret tunnel were reduced to ashes, coating the surrounding vegetation. There were obvious remnants of trees that stood above the alcove, but those too came down along with the ceiling when that beast decided to demolish the entire livelihood of the spiders.
Kanashima leaned against one of the surviving great oak trees that formed the current perimeter of the clearing, resting up from that fiasco that was her first two or so nights in the hell of a simulacrum. Reassessing her wounds again, her tattered clothes seem to have done their role as bandages, stifling some bleeding and covering it enough to prevent infections, but they should probably be changed sooner rather than later. Refixing some of the pieces of cloth with vines and sticking some sap to hold them together, she managed to make them a little more comfortable. Hopefully moving through the already difficult underbrush would be the tiniest bit faster, if not, easier with the adjustments. Some fresh medical supplies would be really nice.
With only the ancient oak trees and thick underbrush in sight, there was nothing else to do but hopefully find some sustenance as she explored the ancient woods. Her throat was beyond dry with the lack of water during the hours she spent in the cave, and she really would appreciate something to eat. Despite it just being a simulation, her body was still very much real, and had very real needs. Sleep was another one, and the shuteye she just got was beyond horrible.
She strained her hearing in hopes of discovering some sort of creek or river, or maybe even moving wildlife. If she couldn't find any water, local animals, ideally a deer or something tame, would probably know where to look. Her footsteps were steady and precise through the winding vines and thorny bushes, trying her best not to mess up her body any more than the spider and rock did. The pain was already a dull throb, but it didn't make it any easier to move.
God, I better never see another spider again. I just might lose it.
A grimace came across the frustrated face, a sharp thorn making itself known through her already torn up shoes. Her brain was hurting, and it had only gotten worse over however long she had already spent traversing the lush and tangled forests. She scavenged some berries at one point, but with no way to know if they were safe, she tossed them to the side. It became evident that her lack of formal education was starting to become detrimental to her, and it was absolutely holding her back. If there was any future where she makes it out, hopefully Serafin could point her way to some knowledge. Maybe even teach her at work.
If only I was half as smart as Morgan.
The forest scenery continued to change and morph the further she traveled through the terrain, but it was always more of the wild growth of vegetation. This time, there was no easier way to take that Kanashima could see, nor was there an end to this horrible stretch in sight. The only option was to surge forward and take whatever the ominous forest had to offer on the chin.
About thirty minutes into the treacherous trek, the air began to take on a new, sticky property. It felt heavier against her exposed skin, and felt more like what she was familiar with in the real world. More like the climate of New Bangkok. The next sign of change was auditory, a muted sound of flowing water brushing up against rocks breaking up the rest of the sounds of the forest.
A big grin spread across Kanashima's face, practically glowing with excitement. It was exactly what her body needed the most at this time, aside from medical attention. Moving quicker and quicker through the extreme hazards of the woods, she was caught up too much in the refreshing promise of the river. Her left foot caught one of the ancient tree roots and tripped her, tumbling forward. Flailing around, her arm managed to grab hold onto one of the many pieces of wood close to the river, but holding on was an entirely different story. The branch snapped, plunging her headfirst into the rushing water. She had no choice but to go with the current.
Despite the less than ideal entry, the cool water was a nice change of pace after trucking through the thick forest. When the sun got up into the air, those dense canopies did a fantastic job of trapping all of that heat inside of it. After managing to right herself, pointing her feet downstream, she relished the feeling of the water running against her body, washing all the grime and dirt stuck on it. Even though the cuts stung like hell, it was great news. She didn't want to risk an actual infection any longer than she had to.
Eventually she would have to stop, who knew where the current would take her. She kept on orienting herself by bouncing her legs off of rocks, but she could only hold out for so long. Soon enough, a wooden structure came into sight. It was tiny and quaint, constructed with the same wood found in the surrounding woodlands. Attached to the small hut was a dock, wooden support beams sticking into the riverbed. Hopefully there was food inside, maybe a helpful person too. Were there even locals in a simulation?
Wishful thinking, surely.
Using the next rock to steer her into position, Kanashima connected with the forward log, letting her slow her momentum further, finally coming to a stop on the dirt beach next to the oak shack. Her hands formed a cup under the running water, holding it up to her face. At this moment, filtering and cleaning the water was the least of her concerns. Her lips cracked, stinging as the cool liquid hit and dripped down her cheeks. She must've repeated it thirty times.
Hydrated and refreshed, she pulled off the shore and turned her attention to the hut itself. Raising her eyebrow, she ran her hands across the smooth hardwood forming the banister. It was weird seeing a building made out of actual wood, especially one constructed by logs sealed together by a weird substance she couldn't even touch. A quaint house like this would go for a fortune in the real world.
I guess this really is a simulation.
The door gave way to a little weight, opening up to a simple fisherman's hut. A couple hand carved wooden chairs, a rather ornate table, and even a small kitchen area with a stone stove populated the main room. It was warm and cozy, much more so than Kanashima's run down apartment in Vanity. Her fingertip traced the esoteric carvings in the back of one of the wood stained chairs. The same symbols were dotted on a chest in the back corner near one of the two doors.
I wish I could stay here forever. Better yet, I wish I could take this chair back. I could probably sell it for a fortune.
Turning her attention to the simple kitchen, she began to search through the few drawers and cabinets, mostly finding old fashioned metal cups, silverware, and a couple metal bowls, but no dice on anything to sate her hunger. A woven basket sat on the counter with the lid ajar, the inside lined with a thin off white cloth. Opening the classic container, a rounded smooth red object sat inside. Right next to it was another round, slightly smaller, burnt orange item. Driven by hunger, Kanashima picked up the slightly spherical red one, rolling it in her hand before taking a bite.
Despite how small her mouth actually appeared to be, she ripped off a sizable chunk. The piece of fruit exploded with sweet juices as her teeth cleaved through the flesh. The refreshing, sweet, yet tart morsel felt amazing on not only the stomach, but her actual taste buds too. Never before had she had anything so fresh, especially not a high quality fruit like this.
Real fruit tastes this good? I wish you could taste this, Morgan.
Soon enough, the fruit was gone, seeds and all. The next fruit called to her even more so than the first. The yellow blended with the burnt orange on the other side of the fruit, forming a gradient on the skin. Picking it up like the last one, she took a large piece off with her teeth.
One side against her tongue was fuzzy and prickly, small parts of the fibrous skin brushing against the taste buds. As her teeth tore through the skin and into the rest of it, the fruit exploded with flavor, sweet juices trickling down from the corner of her lips. Uncaring of the mess being left on the wooden prep space, she continued devouring the flowery, yet delightfully sweet fruit.
Soon enough, the only sign that the fruit used to exist was a dark brown ellipsoid that fit perfectly into the palm of her hand. Her teeth couldn't chop through it for some unknown reason, perhaps it wasn't meant to be eaten. Staring back down at it, she sighed, a wide smile coming across her face. Her stomach growled again, begging for more food, especially like the ones she just consumed. Pausing for a moment, she smiled to herself, allowing a small giggle to escape.
Nodding, she dropped the organic material back into the box and made her way further into the shack. There was another door on the opposite side of the front, and opening it led her to the riverfront deck. There, another meticulously carved chair sat with a stick leaning on top of it. A string was threaded through holes made along the stick, the end dangling off of it with a small metal attachment at the end. Next to the chair was a metal bucket and a smaller box of similar construction.
She picked up the fishing rod and raised the point toward the water. She never had fished before, but the concept was somewhat in her mind. She heard about this sort of activity in tales told by her own mother growing up. Never did she think there would ever be an opportunity for her to do something like this.
Then again, I didn't really think I would be alive right now either.
Legs of the chair screeched as she dragged them to the edge of the deck. Mist shooting up from the flowing river felt rather refreshing and cool, inviting her to sit and stay a while. The pole in her hand was just a thin wire on a stick, the best she could do was hold the rod directly above the water and let the hook float along. Travelling down the river, she didn't spot any fish, and doubted if she'd actually be able to catch one, but her body desperately needed the solace gained from even a moment of stagnation. Her feet ached, all of the joints groaning, and despite the healing happening to the cuts, they were screaming in pain. Sooner or later, she would have to replace the coverings on them. It was tiny, but maybe the cloth in the basket would suffice.
What would you do, Morgan? Would you be sitting here, wasting away the time trying to fish when you know just as much as me? You would be doing a lot better than me. It would've been nice if we got to fish together. As Mom used to wish for us.
She yanked the rod back, thinking the small shift meant something was already on the line, but all she succeeded in was splashing some more water on herself. Shaking her head, she let the rod return to its previous location, relaxing both her arms in the process.
Am I doing alright Morgan? Barely surviving, just like we always did. Why was I the one to be left alive? You were always the stronger one. Cooler. Smarter. Kinder.
Her eyelids fluttered, then squeezed shut as her forearm rubbed across her eyes. She didn't know how long she was up there for, gripping the rod tight in her frail hands. Her knuckles turned white, the wood giving a little more to her limited strength.
The sun continued to move across the sky, minutes turning into hours, eventually dipping halfway below the horizon. The sky itself began to take on shades of pink, dusk ushering in the night. After all of the time spent on the fishing deck, the rudimentary fishing rod hadn't caught even a single fish yet. Honestly, she wasn't even sure if fish lived in this river.
Getting ready to move on from her emotional turmoil and then foreign process of fishing, she dropped the fishing rod to the side of the chair, and went back into the hut. It was already getting colder, and there was absolutely no way she wanted to brave the cold again.
The interior didn't change much when she was gone, if at all. The basket on the countertop closed shut by the lid, only the same ivory white cloth peaking out. The two chairs were right where she left them, pointing in the direction of the chest in the corner.
Did I close the basket?
Kanashima approached the basket again like she did before. Any reasonable thought told her that she wasn't going to find the same fruits that brought her so much joy, but it couldn't possibly hurt to check. Dropping the lid and resting it on the side, two more of the yellow and burnt orange gradient colored foodstuffs stared back at her. A rare wide smile spread across her face, eagerly grabbing one of the fuzzy balls and sinking her teeth in deep.
Soon enough, the pair of delightful spheres disappeared from the bottom of the basket, and she returned the lid back to the top.
Wait what the hell was that?
Why did two more fruits spawn in? Was it some sort of magical item? No, magic absolutely didn't exist in the real world, why would the virus simulate actual magic? Maybe it was actually a facet of the simulation, or at least, its creation. Granted, she didn't know much about the workings of the simulacrum, but there had to be some sort of explanation for it. If everything was intentionally made, then the fruit basket had to have some sort of application rooted within the virus.
Making this realization, Kanashima approached the basket again, holding her hand over the basket. This time, she was no longer viewing it as just something that came with the house, but an actual object. Something that can be interacted with, moved. Something that had data, that was specifically created and stored in the virus and simulation as an object, not as the environment. Something that possessed a function.
In her field of vision, red lines streaked from each and every side, outlining the woven basket in seconds. Once the last connection between the lines was made, a rectangle expanded in her view similar to the same one that displayed to her at the terminal. Attempting to wave her hand through it did nothing, in fact it passed under the actual box. No matter what she tried, she couldn't move anything above the holographic panel.
[Object: Bountiful Basket]
[A hand woven picnic basket that will always provide the best, freshest fruit tailored to the user.]
[Current Data:]
[Dimensions (LxWxH): 30cm x 15cm x 15cm]
[Weight: 0.26 kg]
[Harmony Tier: 5]
[Quality: Flawless]
[Current Owner: null]
[Download?]
Just like the enter prompt from earlier, the single word question stared back into the charcoal grey eyes envisioning the screen. How exactly did this work, she didn't know. The red outline and corresponding information panel wasn't corporeal, that was for certain. Was her brain transmitting data then, and thus, she was imagining it? Was that what happened with the terminal? Her eyebrows furrowed as she studied the description.
Infinite fruit? They were really delicious. Looks like the hut had some food for me after all. Download.
The panel dissipated into more luminescent red strings, combining with the outline of the box before coagulating together, collapsing the box along with it. In just a few seconds, it completely disappeared from view, and the same screen, the figment of her imagination, appeared again.
[New Armament:]
[Bountiful Basket x1]
[View in storage?]
Armament? What does armament mean? I have my own storage? Did the basket go there?