The forest grew denser as Ali moved inland, away from the openness of the river. The air grew stiller, the light beneath the canopy more muted. Each step was a battle against fatigue and terrain, his [Hiking (Level 2, Tier 0 / Rank F- | Lesser)] skill a relentless, silent drill sergeant in his mind, forcing efficiency into his failing movements. The progress bar for the next level crept with agonizing slowness.
The silence wasn't peaceful. It was heavy, full of the memory of black goblin eyes and the coppery stink of butchered meat.
His body's complaints, pushed aside by adrenaline, now came roaring back. A deep, hollow ache had taken root in his stomach. His mouth was parched, sticky. A throbbing headache was building behind his eyes. The chill of the forest, which had been a mere discomfort, was now leaching into his bones.
He couldn't keep ignoring it.
"System," he said, his voice raspy. "Status check. Real talk."
[User Status Update:]
Physiological State: Severe fatigue. Sleep deprivation critical (~28+ hours awake). Caloric deficit: extreme. Hydration: low. Core temperature: marginally sub-optimal.
Psychological State: High sustained stress. Focus degrading.
Physical Integrity: Minor abrasions on feet and hands. No major injury.
Conclusion: You are operating on borrowed resources. Collapse is inevitable without sustenance and rest.
"Yeah, I fucking feel it," Ali grumbled, leaning against a tree to catch his breath. The bark was rough against his hoodie. "Do you think… if we keep moving like this, we'll find people before nightfall? Or am I just walking myself to death?"
[Query: Probability of Civilizational Encounter Before Nightfall.]
Analysis: Based on travel speed, terrain difficulty, and lack of visible infrastructure (roads, smoke, cleared land), probability is Low (<15%). The goblin encounter suggests we are in a 'wilderness zone' with minimal regular patrols or foraging parties.
Projection: At current pace, you will reach a state of non-volitional physical shutdown (collapse) in approximately 3-5 hours. Nightfall will occur before then. You require secured shelter and water source before that point, regardless of civilization.
Ali closed his eyes. Low. Less than 15%. The number was a punch to the gut. He wasn't on the edge of a village. He was in the deep, monster-infested woods. The goblin wasn't an outlier; it was the local wildlife.
"Right. So, shelter. Water. Got it." He pushed off the tree, forcing his legs to move. "And… fighting. If that goblin hadn't run. If it attacked. What happens?"
[Combat Simulation Requested: User vs. Single Goblin (Standard Variant).]
Data Input: User physical parameters (untrained, weakened, unarmed). Goblin parameters (estimated from observation: armed with crude axe, low-to-mid animalistic strength, basic tool-use intelligence, aggressive pack instincts when not alone).
Simulation Output:
Scenario 1 – Ambush Failed: Goblin charges. User's reaction speed, degraded by fatigue, is too slow. Axe strike lands on torso (non-lethal but debilitating) or limb (crippling). Follow-up attacks are fatal. Outcome: User deceased within 60 seconds.
Scenario 2 – Successful Dodge: User avoids initial swing. Lacks strength for effective counter-attack. Goblin recovers quickly, presses advantage. User exhausts self fleeing or grappling. Grapple is lost due to strength disparity. Outcome: User deceased within 2-3 minutes, with greater injury accumulation.
Scenario 3 – Weapon Disparity: As observed, goblin tools are crude but functional. User has no weapon. Fists and feet against flint and muscle are ineffective. A goblin club, if present, would cause blunt force trauma, breaking bones with relative ease.
Tactical Note: Goblins are not honorable duelists. They will target vulnerabilities: eyes, throat, groin. They will attempt to hamstring (attack legs) to prevent escape. Pain and fear are their allies.
Conclusion: In a direct physical confrontation under current conditions, your probability of survival is <5%. Your probability of surviving unmaimed is <0.1%. Combat is not an option. It is a failure state.
The analysis was clinical, vivid, and utterly terrifying. It didn't speak of health bars, but of crippling axe blows, of broken bones, of being dragged down and torn apart. It mapped out his death in seconds, in pain, in helplessness.
Ali felt sick. He'd known he was weak. But having it laid out so precisely—the mechanics of his own slaughter—was different. This wasn't a game over screen. It was a prediction.
"So. Don't get in a fight," he summarized, the words tasting like ash.
[Correct.] Evasion, stealth, and environmental advantage are your only viable combat strategies. A fight is what happens when all other strategies have failed.
He walked in silence for a while, the truth settling into him, colder than the forest air. He was not an adventurer. He was prey with a fancy compass. Every shadow was a potential goblin. Every distant sound was a hunting party.
His thirst became a pressing, dry-throated demand. "System, I need water. Now. Can you locate a source from here? Something not the main river."
[Re-analyzing Auditory/Environmental Data.]
Passive Detection: Faint, consistent trickle detected at 11 o'clock (west-by-northwest), approx. 80 meters. Sound profile suggests small spring or seep, not a flowing stream.
Risk: Unknown. Water sources are high-traffic areas.
Recommendation: Approach with extreme caution. Full perimeter scan before exposure.
A direction. A chance. "Lead the way."
He changed course, moving toward the sound, every sense straining. The trickle grew to a soft, wet whisper. He moved as the System coached: a slow, painful crawl the last twenty meters, belly in the dirt, to peer over a slight rocky ridge.
Below was a mossy hollow. Water seeped from a cleft in a rock, collecting in a shallow, clear pool before soaking away into the ground. It looked pristine. And it was empty.
"Scan," he thought.
[Visual Scan: No movement. No recent tracks in immediate mud. Olfactory: Clean water, wet stone, moss. No foreign scents detected.]**
Risk Assessment: Low for immediate threat. High for exposure during drinking.
Procedure: Drink quickly. Fill what you can. Do not linger.
Ali didn't need telling twice. He scrambled down, his hands shaking as he cupped the cold, clean water to his mouth. He drank until his stomach hurt, the water so good it almost made him cry. He had nothing to carry more in. His hoodie pockets were lined with Cheeto dust, not waterproof.
He was just about to pull back when he saw it, half-buried in the moss at the edge of the pool: a piece of smooth, dark grey stone, about the length of his forearm and as thick as his wrist. One end was jagged where it had broken. The other was naturally tapered, almost like a handle.
It was just a rock.
But it was a heavy rock. A solid rock.
He picked it up. It was heavier than it looked. Dense.
[Object Analyzed: Flintstone Shard.]
Properties: Dense, brittle, conchoidal fracture. Edges are sharp. Could be used as a crude bludgeon or, with skill, a cutting tool.
Note: This is not a weapon. It is a heavy object. But in the context of User vs. Goblin (Standard Variant), it changes the simulation parameters.
Ali hefted the stone in his hand. It wasn't a sword. It wasn't an axe. It was a step above fighting with his bare hands. A tiny, pathetic step.
He looked from the rock in his hand to the dark, encircling trees. Night was coming. He was exhausted, starving, and hunted.
But he wasn't quite as empty-handed as he was a minute ago.
He shoved the stone into the deep pocket of his hoodie, the weight a strange comfort.
"Okay," he whispered to the silent forest, to the System, to himself. "Let's find a place to hide."