He lay there for a while before sitting up and brushing the dirt and moss clinging to his bare back.
He looked around more carefully this time. The forest stretched in every direction, an endless sea of colossal trunks and dense vegetation. He couldn't see very far before the trees and ferns swallowed his line of sight.
'I need to know where I am. I need some kind of reference point.'
He stood up and walked to the tallest tree he had seen. He placed his hand on the trunk. The bark was rough, full of fissures as large and deep as the tree itself, where damp, green moss grew.
He looked up. The trunk rose straight like a cathedral column, disappearing into the green canopy above.How many meters up? It had to be about… The scale was immeasurable.
'If I climb up, maybe I can see something.' A mountain, a river, a city... I hope there's one.
He tested the first crack with his foot. He gripped it firmly. The second with his hand, holding it securely. The cracks were deep enough to provide support.
He began to climb.
The first few meters were easy. His body responded well, muscles working with unexpected efficiency. Arms pulling, legs pushing, almost automatic movements.
'I've done this before. Climbing. I must have done it.'
More knowledge without memory. The body remembered even if the mind didn't recall.
Five meters. Ten. The ground was getting further away below. He didn't look much. He focused on the next support, the next movement.
Fifteen meters. Twenty.
The bark changed texture on top. Smoother, younger. The cracks became shallower, harder to grip. Besides, the moss made everything more slippery; he needed to be very careful.
He continued. Twenty-five meters. Thirty meters.
His arms began to burn. Not too much, but enough to remind him that he had done more than a hundred push-ups before. His fingertips ached where the rough bark pressed. He began to regret choosing such a tall tree.
Thirty-five meters.
And then, finally, he reached the first layer of branches.
They were as thick as normal tree trunks, stretching horizontally for tens of meters. Door-sized leaves grew in dense clusters. He pulled himself up onto the branch, standing carefully.
The view...
"Holy shit."
Green. Nothing but green, as far as the eye could reach.
The forest stretched in every direction to the horizon, an undulating ocean of giant treetops. Here and there, even larger trees stood out, true titans that made the others seem small. In the distance, very far away, bluish mountains were almost hidden by a dense mist. If there were any fields, he couldn't see them.
There was nothing. No city, no road, no smoke from fires, no sign of civilization. Only forest. Primitive and untouched forest stretching to the end of the world.
'I'm lost. Completely lost.'
The feeling that came wasn't exactly panic. It was more like… acceptance. He wasn't going to find help by wandering randomly. He wasn't going to find a city nearby. He was alone here. He needed to figure this out.
And he also needed water. He realized his mouth was dry with thirst. He tried to drink the water from the leaves or plants sprouting on the large branches of the trees, but it was bad, too bitter for his taste. But he found another use for the leaves and branches: he improvised a garment, a kind of loincloth that covered the bare essentials. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
He descended more carefully than he had climbed up. It was even easier to slip on the way down, especially when he looked at the ground and saw how high he was. His muscles trembled slightly from the accumulated effort, but he held on tight. Last support, last meter, feet back on solid ground.
Food. He had to get it. What does one eat in a forest?
Fruits? He didn't see any nearby, not even on the giant tree he had climbed. Roots? 'I don't know which ones are edible.' Hunting? With what and how? He didn't even have a weapon.
He began to walk, searching the forest floor. There had to be something. It was such a vibrant place.
That's when he saw the first one.
It looked like a cockroach. But not a normal cockroach a cockroach that made heir eyers open wide.
It was the size of a medium-sized dog. Shiny brown carapace, antennae as long as fingers, legs covered in fine spines. It was standing there on a root, its mandibles chewing on some piece of fungus.
His stomach churned.
'Ew! No. Absolutely not.'
The giant insect continued chewing, completely oblivious to him.
He kept walking, avoiding it. About twenty meters later, he found another creature.
A centipede. Thick as his arm, at least a meter and a half long. A segmented, dark green body, billions of tiny legs moving in waves as it crawled over dead leaves.
'It's easier for me to be its food.'
Technically, insects are protein. Technically, people eat insects in various cultures. Technically, in a survival situation…
'I'd rather starve. At the very least they should look appetizing. Maybe a stew…'
He kept walking, further and further from the hole where he had woken up. The forest had a strange quality here. Too quiet. Only the distant sounds of insects in the canopy, the occasional rustling of leaves.
He found mushrooms. Large, colorful, growing in clusters at the bases of the trees. Bright red with white spots. Neon purple. Phosphorescent yellow. And a few other color combinations.
'Poisonous… Anything that's this colorful is poison.'
How did he know that? He wasn't sure. But he wasn't going to risk it.
He passed a large puddle of stagnant water among the roots. Transparent, reflecting the green above.
Clean water, at least.
He knelt at the edge. He bent down and drank directly, cupping his hands to splash water into his mouth. It was fresh, with a slightly earthy taste. It wasn't bad, it was much better than the bitter water that came from the stems of some plants.
He saw the reflection of his face. reddish brown, a well-defined jawline, brown eyes. And then, like a flash, he remembered his name. The first concrete memory.
William Hawke.
Nothing more than that, just a name. At this point, it wasn't so relevant to him.
He drank until he was satisfied, then sat leaning against a root. Water solved half the problem. Food was still...
A noise.
William stopped breathing.
It had been low, distant. Like... branches breaking? Something heavy moving? He stood motionless, his ears perked.
Nothing. Only the silence of the forest.
'My imagination...'
*THUMP.