August left the [Blueroot] trees behind, angling back on his previous path once more. Finding something that was edible, even if it was terrible, meant that his chances of survival had just increased significantly. Provided the water in the lake was drinkable, then he might actually be able to live here, at least until he’d eaten all of the Sadapples.

The unseen birds above continued their noisemaking, but it was beginning to fade into background noise. He kept his eyes on the forest around him, the holes in the trees still a mystery with no obvious solution.

August couldn’t exactly tell when the holes had been made either, they might well be months or years in the making, and whatever had done it could have long since moved on. He hoped that was the case because running into whatever could so easily spear deep holes in wood sounded like a bad time.

The number of bushes, plants, and shrubbery grew denser the closer he made it to the lake, the water giving them a significant boost to growth that those further away from the source didn’t have. It made pushing through the mess more difficult and slowed his progress. He’d seen documentaries where people had been using machete’s to cut their way through dense forestry, and August couldn’t help but wish he had access to something similar.

That was the reality of his situation now; all the things that he’d taken for granted on earth were now gone. If he wanted a machete, he couldn’t go buy one; he’d need to make it from the things he could find in Devil’s Nest.

What exactly did a primitive machete look like? A large shard of flint embedded in a length of wood? He could probably manage something like that, although how he would go about keeping it from falling apart was another issue.

August carefully threaded his way through the mess and broke out of the tree line. The sight of the lake through the interstice in the green was accompanied by a sense of brimming satisfaction—he’d actually managed to reach his goal.

There were about twenty meters of just grass before the lake, and he crossed it without pause. He ducked down and dragged his hand through the water to check the temperature—it was cool to the touch.

After a moment of indecision, he scooped up some water and brought it to his mouth. He could identify no smell, and it tasted like nothing, as most clean water did.

Survive

Water - 1/1

Food - 1/1

Shelter - 0/1

Fire - 0/1

The lake sparkled in the light, bright, clear, and brilliant blue; it stretched across the basin of the crater, quarry, or whatever this place had originally been. He could probably swim across it if he needed to, but there wasn’t really anything on the other side—just tall grass, green flats, and steep hills that led up the other side of the crater.

This was probably the best spot for him to set up some kind of shelter. There was food in the form of Sadapples and clean water close by. The forest was filled with wood, rocks, vines, and other materials he could use to make a shelter of some kind to keep him safe for the night.

He doubted he could make anything that would stop an [Otrogon], but every night he survived would give him more time to build up to something more substantial. August turned his mind to the next part of the quest—fire or shelter; he needed both.

The [Lean-to] seemed straightforward enough, and the mental image he had of it was crystal clear. Two upright posts with a third horizontal one strapped between them. The ‘shelter’ part of the structure came from a series of posts leaning against the crossbar.

He moved back towards the trees, actively searching for fallen trees and branches. August wanted to avoid spending too much physical effort trying to detach more difficult branches because he’d just wear himself out that way.

August bent down to drag a long branch out of the detritus on the forest floor and deposited it into his inventory. The branches he located weren’t all straight, but each of them was long enough that he’d be able to make something at least as tall as he was.

If he’d been more prepared, he could have brought some of the lengths of bamboo with him because that stuff would have been perfect for something like this, as most of the bamboo he’d seen was already straight.

Once he had a tool of some kind that could cut it down reliably, he’d have to go back there—something to think about in the future, when he was more secure and able to roam around without getting eaten. The busy work of finding branches, judging for length and straightness before collecting them, left plenty of room for his mind to wander.

This place wasn’t earth, he knew that now—it wasn’t that impossible on its face, other planets definitely existed, even if the vast majority would never be able to support life on its surface. August could bring himself to accept that there was a planet somewhere, with three moons, that could support life—the disconnect came from why he was here.

Why would anyone with the power, knowledge, or resources strand someone on a faraway planet? Why would they choose him of all people to bring here? There was nothing special about August Marlow that would have made him a good choice for this.

Devil’s Nest might well be Hell or something like it, and perhaps he’d been placed him as a form of divine judgment. Nothing he’d done seemed severe enough for this to be the punishment.

He’d never killed anyone or anything as heinous as that. He’d stolen certainly and lied by omission enough that nobody would have ever trusted him again if they’d known. Alice would have been here with him, serving out her own punishment if what they’d done behind Eric’s back had ever come to light. If this place was a punishment of some kind, he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it.

Perhaps it wasn’t though, maybe Devil’s Nest was an experiment of some kind. Maybe he’d been abducted and placed here to see how long a relatively average human would survive on an island filled with monsters—It would make for good entertainment, should anyone be watching him.

August dragged another fallen branch out of the leaves, dropping it into his inventory without fanfare, the motion almost mechanical at this point. Every single day was going to be like this now, physically searching for the things he needed to survive. Laboring away, day after day, just to keep himself alive.

Worse than all of that, he was completely alone.

Solitude meant that he would be forced to do everything; he would be required to constantly weigh the choices he made, balancing safety with survival. Mistakes couldn’t be wished away, and there were no shortcuts present—August was leaning towards this place being a hell designed solely for him. There were hints in the menu and the descriptions of the skills that he might not be alone forever.

[Summon] might be a genuine answer to his solitude, but it might also be the last thing he did. He didn’t know how the spell worked for one; did it drop the summon directly in front of him? Would he be in physical contact with it when it appeared?

If he did need to tame it, was it something he could do with his current [Tame] level, or should he attempt to level it up first? The [Otrogon] seemed to grow larger the higher level they were; If the summon was [Level 1], would it be small enough that August could physically hold it down until the taming bar was full?

The pit he’d woken up in might has been an answer to that if he’d thought to use it back there. If he could summon whatever it was inside a deep enough hole, he’d be safely out of reach, and he would be able to better assess its danger to himself. Traveling back to the pit wasn’t happening any time soon, so he’d need to dig a hole of some kind near his camp.

August felt tired just thinking about it.