The trees and plants gave off all kinds of smells—some fresh, some just foul. The scents were so strong they completely covered up the smell of the damp, cold black soil underneath.
Sol walked barefoot through the trees, following a steady path. He'd gotten bitten again early in the morning, which slowed him down a bit.
Grumble!
His stomach kept making loud noises, constantly. He felt all the signs of hunger—the ache, the burning, the nausea, the urge to throw up even though his stomach was empty. Dry heaving would come next, which was worse than regular vomiting. And his throat was painfully dry.
He walked for a long time before hearing a sound—splashing, flowing water—not too far from where he was. The sound was clear enough that anyone could recognize it.
Most people in his situation would've run toward that water as fast as they could, desperate to drink and stop that painful, dry feeling. Sol didn't. He didn't speed up at all. Just kept his same slow, steady pace.
Eventually, his slow steps brought him to the source—a river. But it was a strange, beautiful river. Like something that had fallen from paradise into this miserable forest.
The riverbanks were completely covered with transparent white crystals, all different sizes. Not just the banks—the bottom too. He could see clearly through the water, so pure it was, right down to those beautiful stones. The crystals caught the daylight and reflected it back in all kinds of cheerful colors.
Sol ignored the natural beauty and kept walking toward the river. He knelt at the water's edge. Despite his thirst—his throat drier than any desert—he didn't lunge for it. Instead, he studied it carefully. Daylight bounced off the crystals, casting colorful reflections onto his dull, gloomy eyes. But the colors couldn't stick. His eyes stayed gray.
He leaned forward slowly, cupped a small amount of the clear, cold water—it even had a sweet, pleasant smell to it—and brought it to his nose first. Smelled it slowly.
"Doesn't smell bad... might be drinkable."
He put a little in his mouth, swirled it around, tasting it carefully. His slowness was almost excessive, like he was deliberately putting off drinking for as long as possible. Finally, he swallowed.
"Yeah... it's good."
Then he cupped both hands slowly, drank properly. The cold water slid down his throat smoothly, washing away the dryness that felt like a burning desert, leaving behind a trace of relief so intense it almost hurt.
After drinking, he leaned back, pulled himself away from the water, and lay down on those bright white stones—the crystal ones, the diamond-like ones.
He picked up one of the crystals and held it up to the sky, studying it carefully, turning it over in his hands.
"Diamond..." He turned his head left and right, like he was trying to count how many of these beautiful stones were lying around. "All this... just left here, unguarded. The creatures here—whatever they are—don't care about it at all. If this river was back on Earth... they'd forget I even existed. Their attention would shift completely. World War Thirty-Seven would've started by now. And even though the quantity would lower the value... they definitely wouldn't let that stop them."
Sol lay there in silence for minutes—maybe half an hour or more—on those beautiful, cheerful stones that reflected colors pleasant to the soul. They were definitely not comfortable to lie on, though. Beautiful, but painful.
He sat up eventually, fixed his eyes on the clear, sparkling river, watching the water flow smoothly along its usual path.
"I was looking for water... and I found it. Now what? What do I do now? Where do I go?..damn"
His expression darkened bit by bit.but He lowered his head slightly—and caught his own smell. His face shifted just a little, a hint of disgust showing through.
"Ugh. I smell like fresh donkey crap. My usual scent."
The current state of Sol was a mix of sour, stinking sweat mixed with sticky sap from the trees he'd brushed against while searching for water—all of it well-fermented with campfire smoke. Put simply, he smelled bad enough to make your nose bleed.
"I guess next step... bath."
His tone was dark, self-mocking. He stood up, took off his elegant outfit—a skirt made of leaves and a small rope holding his hair back—and placed it on the ground. He put some diamond stones on top so it wouldn't blow away. Then he walked toward the river.
He stepped in and shivered slightly—not because the water was cold, but the opposite. He was actually enjoying it so much his body reacted involuntarily. Finally, some refreshment. It felt like some of the pain and exhaustion stored up in his body for so long was finally letting go—just a little, just a tiny bit—and drifting away with the current.
He let out a deep sigh. A tiny smile escaped him without him even noticing. He scrubbed himself thoroughly—worked the soap into every crease, every fold. Stomach muscles, chest, neck, shoulders, arms. Then legs and feet carefully—they'd been stepping on dirty ground and nasty thorns, some of which had really hurt because of poison.
Fwoosh!
Sol heard rustling leaves nearby. He turned his head toward the sound and saw bushes moving slightly—then stop. He stood up fast, staring in that direction for a few seconds. Nothing happened.
"I think we just secured dinner."
He moved slowly toward those suspicious bushes, trying not to scare whatever was behind them. Didn't work. The thing hiding there bolted, running fast—he heard light footsteps. Sol didn't stay put either. He ran after it.
Whatever it was, it knew how to escape. It kept picking directions with thick bushes, making it hard to follow.
Sol couldn't see what he was chasing—didn't know its shape or size. He just followed the movement of the bushes. Right, he followed. Left, he followed. In his mind, he was already picturing this creature roasting over a fire.
He looked up and noticed the bushes were about to end—a clearing ahead, no trees, no undergrowth. Empty space. Strange, maybe, but that empty area would be a dead end for his prey. Or so Sol thought.
"End of the line."
The bushes stopped moving for a second, then burst out into the open. Sol leaped out after them and found—
"What?! A rock?"
He stared at the rolling stone. Nothing special about it—looked like any other rock around. But Sol understood. Camouflage. Diversion.
"You're a true escape artist, creature. You win this time."
He headed back the way he came, through the bushes and tall grass. Felt pretty stupid, actually—he'd left his leaf-skirt by the river. That realization made him take a different path back. Turned out not to be a bad thing, because near the river, he finally found a tree with fruit. Strange fruit, though.
The trunk was twisted, not straight like the other trees. Its whole surface was the same color as those strange blue-black parts on other trees—like the tree had been completely consumed by that material. The leaves were enormous. Weird-shaped balls hung from the branches. Sol climbed up and picked three.
He sat under a tree, washed the fruits, and placed them in front of him, studying their shape with curiosity.
They were balls—not too big, puffy-looking. The outer skin was dark and wrinkled, with blue lines that almost seemed to pulse.
"This is the ugliest fruit I've ever seen... Anyway. Do I eat it or what? Looking at this weird shape... taste is gonna be bad. Really bad. Maybe it's not even edible."
His usual flat tone. He raised an eyebrow slightly, then added sarcastically:
"Sure. I'll just ignore it and pick one of the other options... Just eat it. If it's poisonous, I won't die anyway. Do your best to handle it, body."
He picked one up. It felt like an apple or a guava—firm, but not rock hard. First, he smelled it. Guess that was a new habit now.
"Apple texture, mango smell... reassuring."
Sarcastic as ever. He brought it to his mouth and took a big bite—completely ignoring whether it might be poisonous. His expression darkened.
"Apple texture, mango smell... tastes like bitter gourd. Well, at least it's not dirt. Getting used to that flavor."
Despite the bitterness, Sol kept eating. But something was wrong. Chewing got harder. His vision blurred slightly. Then the sweating started.
"It's poisonous."
His tone was cold, like he was stating the most obvious thing in the world.
He stood up with difficulty. Everything around him was swaying stupidly—trees turning into snakes, branches writhing and twisting back and forth, colors shifting constantly.
Sol stared with wide eyes—those dark circles underneath—completely amazed at what he was seeing. Then the corners of his mouth lifted into a huge grin, ear to ear, followed by loud, hysterical laughter.
He staggered to a tree, leaned on it. His hand started twisting like the trees, colors changing. He touched it with his other hand—that one went crazy too. Then it spread everywhere—arms, legs, body, ground—everything twisting madly.
After a few minutes of insane swaying and hysterical laughter, Sol was exhausted. He regained a little awareness of what was happening. But blood was flowing from his eyes, mouth, nose, ears—massive amounts of thick, clotted blood. His brain had literally melted out of his skull.
"Ah... ah... damn... damn... I think... I think I need... a little... rest... ah... damn..."
He barely got the words out, struggling to breathe, before collapsing to the ground unconscious.