The humming of the house was a deep, rhythmic vibration that Renzo felt in his marrow.
When he opened his eyes, the dawn wasn't the usual sickly violet of the "Green Hell."
Instead, the sapphire light of the Mutya, now flowing through the bamboo veins of his hut, cast a soft, cool glow over everything.
For the first time since he'd been dropped into this nightmare, he didn't wake up drenched in sweat or shivering from the damp earth.
He sat up, leaning against the main pillar.
The Busaw-kitten was sprawled across his legs, its leafy ears twitching in its sleep.
Renzo looked at the little creature.
It had stayed by him through the Tikbalang's trial, and it was currently the only "family" he had in this world.
"I can't keep calling you 'kitten' forever," Renzo whispered, rubbing his tired eyes.
"I'll think of something once we aren't starving."
His stomach growled, a sharp, twisting reminder that he hadn't eaten a real meal in far too long.
The "Home Soil" effect kept the air inside his 10-meter circle clean and dry, but it didn't fill his belly.
He looked at his North Face bag — it was empty of food.
If he wanted to survive long enough to build the walls he'd sketched on his bamboo notepad, he had to leave the sanctuary.
He grabbed his Iron-Scaled Bolo, the weight of the handle familiar and grounding.
He stepped off the raised platform and onto the ground.
Within his 10-meter domain, the silver mud had settled into a calm, pale surface that didn't cling to his shoes.
But beyond that line, the violet treeline was a chaotic, tangled wall of thorns and shadows.
"Stay here," he told the kitten, though the creature was already up and sitting at the edge of the bamboo floor, watching him with wide, golden eyes.
Renzo crossed the invisible boundary.
Immediately, the heavy, humid air of the forest slammed into him.
The smell of rotting fruit and wet earth returned, thick enough to taste.
He kept his eyes peeled, moving toward a cluster of trees he hadn't explored yet, hoping for more of those ruby berries.
After ten minutes of hacking through thick, rubbery vines, he spotted something different.
Hanging from a tree with bark that looked like rusted iron were heavy, teardrop-shaped fruits.
They were a deep indigo, almost black, and they didn't have the inviting glow of the berries.
They looked tough, like leather.
PING!
[SEARCHING DATABASE...]
[ITEM IDENTIFIED: Iron-Shell Langka (Wild)]
[Status: Edible (If opened)]
[Description: A dense, calorie-rich fruit protected by a mana-reinforced skin. Caution: The sap is extremely sticky.]
"Langka? Looks more like a cannonball," Renzo muttered.
He swung his bolo, the blade sparking as it hit the tough skin.
It took three hard strikes to finally crack it open.
A thick, white sap oozed out, smelling like fermented honey and burnt sugar.
Inside were golden pods of fruit, glowing faintly with a warm light.
He grabbed one and stuffed it into his mouth.
It was incredibly sweet, a burst of energy that made his head spin for a second.
It tasted like a mix of jackfruit and condensed milk.
He ate until his stomach stopped cramping, feeling the "Scholar's" focus return to his brain.
He wrapped three more pods in a large leaf, tucking them into his hoodie pocket.
As he turned to head back, the bushes nearby rustled.
Renzo froze, his hand tightening on the bolo.
A creature stepped out.
It wasn't a monster, but it wasn't human.
It stood only about three feet tall, with skin the color of wet clay and eyes that looked like polished obsidian.
It wore a tunic made of woven roots and held a spear tipped with a jagged piece of glass.
PING!
[ENTITY IDENTIFIED: Forest Dwende (Earth Spirit)]
[Temperament: Neutral / Cautious]
[Note: These spirits claim the 'Under-Earth'. They are highly territorial regarding construction.]
The creature didn't attack.
It stared at Renzo, then shifted its gaze toward the distant sapphire glow of the Bahay Kubo.
"Tabi-tabi po," Renzo said, remembering the old manners.
He didn't want a curse on top of a hungry stomach.
The Dwende tilted its head, its voice sounding like dry gravel grinding together.
"You... the one who buried the Heart?"
Renzo nodded slowly.
"I built the house. I placed the stone."
The spirit let out a low, vibrating sound —.a laugh.
"A house with a heart but no skin. The Sigbin are smelling your sweetness, traveler.
They follow the scent of the blue stone like blood in the water.
They come when the moon turns pink."
Renzo felt a chill that had nothing to do with the humidity.
"The Sigbin? How many?"
"Too many for a boy with a knife," the Dwende said, pointing its glass spear at Renzo's bolo.
"The forest does not like your 'Order.'
It wants to melt your house back into the mud."
The creature reached into a pouch at its waist and tossed something at Renzo's feet.
It was a small, heavy ball of grey clay.
"A gift for the builder," the Dwende hissed, stepping back into the shadows.
"Mix it with the silver mud at your border. If you want to keep your heart beating, you better start digging. The pink moon rises tonight."
Before Renzo could ask what "pink moon" meant, the creature vanished into the brush, leaving only the faint smell of wet dirt behind.
Renzo picked up the clay ball.
It was unnaturally heavy and pulsed with a dull, earthy heat.
He didn't waste time.
He ran back toward his sanctuary, the indigo fruit heavy in his pocket and the Dwende's warning echoing in his head.
He had food, he had a mysterious building material, and he had a deadline he didn't fully understand.
"Pink moon," Renzo whispered as he crossed back into his safe zone.
He looked up.
The lavender sky was already beginning to streak with a dark, oily rose color.
The walls. He needed to build the walls now.