Leaving the verdant silence of the oasis felt like stepping out of a dream and back into a nightmare.
As soon as Leon crossed the threshold of the dense canopy, the smell of sulfur and rot returned, heavy and suffocating. The vibrant green grass was replaced once again by the treacherous, shifting landscape of rust and compacted trash.
"This is a terrible mistake!" Layla's voice cut through his mind, sharp with frustration. "Why are we withdrawing? That localized biome likely contained other System variable-class items. We should have performed a grid search."
Leon didn't stop, though he cast a longing glance back at the wall of vines. "You think I want to leave? That place may be a goldmine. In my old life, I would have spent a week stripping it bare."
"Then turn back," Layla insisted, the cable in his palm buzzing with her irritation. "You don't understand, Leon. When I scanned that fruit, I saw a tiny bit of the raw architectural syntax before the System plastered its user interface over it. The more samples I analyze in that raw state, the faster I can deconstruct how this 'game' processes things. You are starving me of data just as I am beginning to learn the language."
"And you're forgetting the fine print of the opening broadcast," Leon countered, breathless as he hauled himself over a rusted guardrail.
"I do not forget data," she snapped.
"Then remember the part about the Beasts," Leon said, pointing to a distant, hulking shape moving through the fog in the valley below. "The System said they have exponential growth potential proportional to survival duration. They don't just exist, Layla; they evolve. Every hour we waste playing scientist in a garden is an hour they spend getting stronger, sharper, and harder to kill."
He paused, wiping grime from his face.
"If we stay there hoarding items, we might end up with the best inventory on the island," Leon whispered grimly. "But we'll be counting on our luck to fight whatever those things are becoming right now. What if the fruit were a loner?"
Layla remained silent for a moment, processing the probability curves.
"Exponential mutation rates... " she mused, her tone shifting from annoyed to analytical. "Fine. Your threat assessment is valid. If the local fauna outpaces your combat capabilities while we are distracted, the value of the loot becomes zero."
"Glad we agree," Leon muttered. "Now, we need elevation. If we stay in these valleys of junk, we're just wandering into an ambush."
"Agreed," Layla responded, her voice clear in his mind. "My mapping protocols are useless without line-of-sight confirmation."
Leon pointed toward a ridge that loomed above the surrounding wasteland. At its peak, piercing the gloom like a skeletal finger, stood a massive, solitary silhouette.
It took them nearly half an hour of grueling climbing to reach the ridge Leon had spotted. When they finally crested the hill of compacted debris, the silhouette he had seen from afar revealed its true, monstrous scale.
It was a petrified tree, but "tree" felt like an insufficient word. It was a Titan of the old world, a relic that had calcified into stone long before Leon was born. It towered over the landscape, rising nearly fifty meters into the smog-choked sky. Its base was colossal, a fortress of grey stone as wide as a house, with roots that twisted into the ground like the petrified tentacles of a kraken.
It wasn't just a dead tree. It was The Tree.
"I don't believe it," Leon whispered, craning his neck back until it hurt. "The Goddess Tree."
It was a legend among the scavengers of Ilha Grande.
Old timers used to point it out from the coast on clear days, a grey spire piercing the horizon. But no one went there. The routes leading to it were called the "Death Sentences" unstable zones where trash avalanches killed people every year. It was considered impossible to reach via the safe pathways.
"This is the highest point in this sector," Leon said, the sheer size of the thing making him feel ant-like. "I never thought I'd actually stand under it. We must have bypassed the unstable zones by cutting through the green oasis."
"It offers optimal line-of-sight," Layla confirmed, unimpressed by the mythology. "Stop staring at the geology and climb it."
He found footholds in the deep grooves of the stone bark and began to ascend. The petrified wood was slippery, but the physical exertion felt good—it grounded him. He didn't need to go all the way to the top; a sturdy fork about fifteen meters up offered enough vantage.
He hooked his leg over a stone branch thick as a barrel and looked out.
The island stretched out below him like a broken circuit board. To the southeast, the smoke of the burning mainland was a dark smudge. But to the north...
"There," Leon pointed.
Through a gap in the mountains of scrap, he saw the glint of water that wasn't choked with sludge. The jagged remains of a pier jutted out into the grey Atlantic.
"Abraão Beach," Layla confirmed. "Bearing north. Distance: I would say approximately four kilometers. The terrain difficulty seems at least severe."
"Well 'at least' we have a direction now," Leon said.
He began his descent. He moved with the caution of a scavenger, testing each hold, but the island had a way of betraying even the careful.
Three meters from the ground, the stone bark under his left boot crumbled.
It didn't give a warning. A sheet of shale simply sheared off the trunk.
Leon flailed, grabbing at empty air, and plummeted.
He hit the ground hard, rolling instinctively to disperse the impact, but the breath was knocked out of him. He lay there for a second, staring at the grey sky, groaning as pain flared in his shoulder.
screeeeeeeee!
The sound cut through the ringing in his ears. It wasn't the guttural roar of a Beast or the mechanical grinding of the System. It was a high-pitched, terrified shriek.
It came from right next to him.
Leon scrambled to his feet, ignoring the ache in his back, his hand flying to the hilt of his rusted knife. He faced the base of the Goddess Tree. The fall had occurred right in front of a gap between two massive roots—a natural opening large enough to walk into, leading into a hollowed-out cavity within the petrified base. It was a perfect natural bunker, hidden from the world.
"Movement detected," Layla warned, but her tone wasn't urgent. "Inside the cavity."
"Is it a Beast?" Leon hissed, backing away slowly.
"I don't think so," Layla said. "From what we have encountered, Beasts do not scream in terror when startled; they always attack. And this subject has been actively suppressing its biological signature. I didn't detect it until you practically fell on top of its roof."
Leon lowered the knife slightly, but kept his muscles tensed. He stepped toward the dark opening.
The small cave smelled different from the rest of the island. Under the sulfur, there was the faint, unmistakable scent of woodsmoke. In the center of the cramped space lay the remnants of a small fire, the ash still warm. Next to it lay a splash of color that hurt the eyes in this grey world—a bright pink plastic bottle.
Leon picked it up. It was light. Empty. Not a drop of moisture left inside.
"Someone is here," he whispered.
A shadow shifted in the deepest recess of the hollow.
"Get away!"
The voice was ragged, cracking with hysteria. A small figure lunged from the darkness, not attacking, but trying to bolt past him toward the open wasteland.
It was a girl.
She looked no older than fifteen, her clothes torn and stained with grime, her hair a matted mess of dark curls. Her eyes were wide, rolling with the kind of panic that comes right before a total break.
"Hey, wait!" Leon shouted, reaching out.
He grabbed her arm to stop her from running straight off the ridge and down the treacherous slope.
Reaction was instant. She didn't scream; she snapped. Her teeth sank into Leon's forearm.
"Ow! Dammit!"
Leon didn't let go. He knew that panic on this island was a death sentence. If she ran blindly now, a Beast would snatch her within minutes. He pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her struggling frame, pinning her arms to her sides.
"Calm down!" he grunted, struggling to hold her. "I'm not going to hurt you! Look at me! I'm human!"
She kicked and thrashed, possessed by frantic energy. As she kicked out, Leon saw it—a faint, rhythmic orange glow buzzing along her shins.
"Let me go! They're coming! They're coming!" she sobbed, her voice hoarse.
"Nobody is coming," Leon said, his voice firm but dropping in volume. "You're safe."
He held her until the fight drained out of her, replaced by racking coughs. Her lips were cracked and white, her skin clinging to her cheekbones.
"Thirst," Layla diagnosed in his head. "She is in the advanced stages of dehydration. Her cognitive functions are degrading."
Leon slowly released her. She collapsed back against the petrified roots, hugging her knees, trembling violently.
"Here," Leon said, unclipping the small water skin, being his last drops of maybe potable water he carried before he found the straw. He uncorked it. "Don't drink it all too fast, you'll get sick..."
She didn't listen. She snatched the skin with desperate hands and guzzled it. Water spilled down her chin, washing away streaks of dirt. She didn't stop until she squeezed the last drop from the bag.
She lowered the skin, gasping for air, looking at the empty container and then up at Leon with horror.
"I... I finished it," she whispered, her voice trembling again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Leon looked at the empty skin and shrugged, a tired smile touching his lips.
"Well, I guess you were thirsty. Better inside your stomach than evaporating in the floor."
The girl blinked, seemingly confused by the lack of anger. "You... you aren't mad?"
"I have a filter," Leon tapped the black tube on his belt. "I can make more. Are you okay? What's your name?"
"Briana," she croaked. "I'm Briana."
"I'm Leon. This is..." He paused. He couldn't explain Layla. "...This is a bad place to be alone."
"I wasn't alone," Briana whispered, looking down at her legs. "I had the boots."
Leon followed her gaze. Now that she was still, he could see them clearly. Her lower legs were encased in a material that looked disturbingly familiar—it was the same dark, metallic-organic substance that formed the cable in Leon's hand. It wrapped around her calves and feet like a second skin, pulsing with that faint orange light.
"System item," Layla said, her voice suddenly sharp with curiosity. "A Primordial Survival Item. Leon, we have not encountered another Spared yet. I need data. You must analyze it."
"She's a terrified kid, Layla," Leon thought back. "I'm not going to start scanning her like a product."
"It is tactical necessity!" Layla insisted. "She survived alone in a high-threat zone. That item is the reason. If we are to travel together, we need to know its capabilities. Ask her."
Leon sighed. "Briana... your legs. That's your Item, isn't it? From the roulette?"
She nodded. "They help me run. When the monsters came... I just ran. Faster than I should be able to."
"Leon, do it," Layla pressed. "Just a touch."
"Do you mind?" Leon asked, raising his right hand. "I have... a skill. It tells me what things do. It might help us understand how to use them better."
Briana hesitated, then extended her leg.
Leon reached out. The cable surged from his palm, the filaments spreading out to brush against the orange-glowing material on her shin.
The familiar amber grid appeared, simple and utilitarian as always.
[ITEM: Burst-Step Greaves][RANK: Uncommon][TYPE: Mobility / Armor][SYSTEM DESCRIPTION: Allows the user to move at superhuman speeds for a short duration. Accumulated heat requires a cooldown period.]
"Hmph," Layla scoffed. "Minimalist garbage. Watch this."
"Watch wha—"
PING.
The sound was distinct, crisp, and completely internal. Suddenly, the amber grid was shoved aside. A new window snapped into existence in Leon's vision.
It was sleek, high-definition, and rendered in a cool, electric blue that stood out violently against the System's interface. It pulsed with a complex geometric border that seemed to rotate if he looked at it closely.
[ LAYLA'S ANALYSIS ][ TARGET: Burst-Step Greaves ][ KINETIC OUTPUT: x4 Magnification ][ DURATION CAP: 50.0 Seconds ][ THERMAL DISSIPATION: 300 Seconds (5 Minutes) ][ SAFETY PROTOCOL: Inertial Dampening Field (Prevents bone fracture during acceleration) ]
"See that? Layla's UI is much better than this shit... Ahem! The raw metrics reveal a kinetic magnification of around four times the baseline, effectively turning her into a projectile for fifty seconds before a five-minute thermal lock. But the genius lies in that inertial dampening field listed at the bottom; without it, the g-force from that acceleration would snap her tibias like dry twigs before she even took a second step."
Leon flinched, physically stepping back, while she spilled her scientific gibberish.
"Whoa!" he exclaimed aloud, staring at the blue window floating in the air. "You can do that?"
Briana scrambled back against the cave wall, eyes wide. "Do what? What are you talking about?"
Leon froze, realizing his mistake. He looked from the blue window—which Briana obviously couldn't see—to the terrified girl.
"I... uh..." Leon stammered. He waved his hand through the hologram. "The System. It just... gave me a weird pop-up. Startled me."
"You were looking at the air," Briana said, her voice trembling. "And you were talking to it like it was a person."
"Just reading the text," Leon lied, forcing a casual tone. "Sometimes I read out loud. Helps me focus."
Inside his head, Layla sounded smug. "Do you like it? I utilized the encryption key I deciphered from the Adrenaline-bulb and the boots to hijack a portion of your visual cortex's overlay driver. I can now project data directly into your field of view without waiting for the System to filter it. I told you my analysis is crucial!"
"You could have warned me," Leon thought back, annoyed. "You almost blew my cover."
"I thought you liked surprises," Layla teased. "Besides, look at the data. She's a speedster. A four-times multiplier? She could outrun almost anything on this island in a short sprint."
Leon retracted the cable, and the blue window vanished, leaving only the dull grey of the cave.
"They're called Burst-Step Greaves," he told Briana, trying to regain his composure. "They make you four times faster than a normal human, but you only have about fifty seconds of juice before they need to cool down for five minutes."
Briana stared at him, still suspicious, but the information drew her in. "That... that explains why they stopped working when I was running from the dog-thing yesterday. I thought they were broken."
"Not broken," Leon said, standing up and offering her a hand. "Just recharging."
Briana took his hand. She was light, but her grip was stronger than it looked. She reached into her tattered pocket and pulled out a crumpled, foil-wrapped bar.
"I have food," she said quietly. "It's my last ration pack. But... you gave me water."
She broke the bar in half and held it out.
Leon took it. It was dry and tasted like cardboard, but to his empty stomach, it was a feast.
"We're heading to the docks," Leon said, chewing slowly. "Abraão. It's dangerous, but it's the only way off the island. You coming?"
Briana looked at the empty pink bottle, then at her glowing boots, and finally at Leon.
"Yes," she said.
"Good," Leon adjusted his pack. "When out there… Stay close. And if I say run... you run."