I don't dream anymore.
I think my brain figured it out—dreaming just wastes energy.
I open my eyes to black stone and frostbitten fingers. My suit whines quietly, still running its endless checks.
Body Temp: 35.0°CCore Status: HoldingSuit Integrity: 49%Time Since Crash: 15 DaysNew Objective: Construct Long-Term Shelter
Fifteen days.
It feels like a hundred.
I crawl to the entrance of the cave. Push the makeshift barrier aside. The wind hits instantly. Cuts through the suit. Sharp. Unforgiving.
The sky above is a pale gray. No sun. Just... light, somehow. Cold light.
The kind that makes you feel like God gave up on this place halfway through building it.
I trudge back to the crash site. It's about 2 kilometers west. Maybe more.
Takes me nearly an hour with the ice.
My boots slip. My legs ache. My left hand's completely numb now. Can't even move the fingers.
Still—there's stuff there. Pieces of hull. Wiring. Shattered panels.
Tools.
I find a burnt-out laser cutter. Broken. But the battery pack's still usable.
Slot it into the CryoSuit.
+3% Suit Integrity.+2% Power Efficiency.
Small win. Take it.
I dig deeper into the wreck. Carefully. One wrong move and the whole frame could collapse.
There's something half-buried in the snow.
A crate.
Emergency Survival Pod.
I almost cry.
Object Scanned: CryoPod / Type 7EStatus: Damaged – Power Unit MissingContents: Unscanned
The pod might have food. Maybe med supplies.
But no power = no open.
"Figures," I mutter. "Nothing ever easy out here."
I drag what I can back to the cave. Broken plating. Fiberglass scraps. A cracked emergency blanket. Feels like aluminum foil.
Takes four trips.
By the fourth, my vision's swimming.
I pass out halfway into the cave.
Health Warning: Body Temp Dropping RapidlyInitiating Emergency Heating Pulse…Reserve Energy: -5%
The suit heats briefly. A wave of warmth rushes over me. It feels like heaven.
But it drains the last of the auxiliary power.
I need heat.
Soon.
Next day, I wake up coughing. My throat's dry. Cracked. I haven't had water in... I don't know how long.
The Cryo System pings.
Melting snow is not safe. Unknown microbial life detected.Recommendation: Boil before consumption.
Right. Boil it with what, genius?
I don't have fire. Or a heater.
Just a small coil from the ship's interior. Not enough juice to start flame, but maybe...
Maybe I can make something.
Two days go into trial and error. I burn my fingers. Cut myself twice. Curse out loud a hundred times.
But on Day 18…
I melt a handful of snow.
And drink.
It's warm. Gritty. Tastes like metal and sadness.
Best drink of my life.
The system rewards me.
Level 2 Progress: Shelter 40% Complete – Water Source ConfirmedSystem Tip: Begin food production planning. Body showing early signs of protein deficiency.New Objective: Trap / Hunt small fauna.
I laugh again.
It's the kind of laugh that sounds a little broken.
"Hunt what, system? Snowflakes?"
But I know it's right.
I've seen things move at night.
That night, I stay up. Hidden. Waiting.
I use the last bit of ship metal to reflect the cave light just enough to see shadows. Not enough to give myself away.
And then I spot it.
Low to the ground. Four-legged. No fur. Blue skin. Glowing lines on its ribs. Maybe a meter long. Moving carefully. Sniffing the air.
I don't breathe.
It stops at the cave edge.
Scratches something. Sniffs again. Then it's gone.
Not fast. But... cautious.
I stare for a while longer.
That thing's meat.
If I can catch it, that's food.
If it doesn't catch me first.
Fauna Logged: Type 1 — Class: Passive ScavengerThreat Level: Low (unless provoked)Biochemical Signature: Edibility: POSSIBLEWarning: Unknown side effects. Use caution.
"Possible's good enough."
I fall asleep with a smile.
For the first time since the crash.