Evren grunted as he kicked at the malfunctioning canopy above him. His Mech had shut down completely—even its emergency functions were fried—which meant he had to physically extricate himself from the damn cockpit. Another solid kick finally got the hydraulics hissing faintly. The canopy creaked open just enough for him to slip out and onto the dense underbrush below.

  The humid air hit him like a wall, thick and clinging, immediately soaking the flight suit that already felt too tight. He pushed himself to his feet, turning to take stock of his Mech.

  “Well, you’re not getting me off this rock,” he muttered grimly.

  The once-pristine plating was riddled with jagged holes from ferrous railgun projectiles, exposing blackened internals. Its legs were buried deep in the soft loam, almost to the hips, like a monument to its defeat. Evren felt a pang of loss but shook it off. Dwelling on it wouldn’t keep him alive.

  Climbing back into the cockpit, he reached under the seat to retrieve the emergency bag. Kneeling in the brush, he took quick stock: three days of rations, a water purifier, a combat knife, a medkit, a revolver, and a survival rifle that folded neatly for travel. He checked the revolver’s cylinder—caseless cartridges. Old, but reliable. The rifle had two boxes of ammunition crammed into the bag as well. Enough to hold out for a while, assuming he didn’t do anything stupid.

  “Alright,” he muttered, scanning the dense jungle ahead. “First priority: shelter. Somewhere safe. Then water.”

  He strapped the bag to his back and gripped the knife in one hand, revolver in the other. The jungle loomed, vibrant and alien. Bioluminescent plants clung to massive tree trunks, their light faintly pulsing with every brush of the humid breeze. Strange tendrils of vegetation swayed above, trailing glistening droplets that evaporated on contact with his skin, leaving faint, sparkling residues. Some kind of harmless chemical reaction, but unsettling nonetheless.

  Evren hacked carefully at the foliage blocking his path, carving a slow but deliberate route. Every cut revealed more of the jungle’s bizarre ecosystem: spiraling fungi that emitted a faint, melodic hum and creeping vines that recoiled at his touch. He paused to notch a tree trunk with his knife—a marker to guide him back, should he need to retreat.

  Hours passed before he froze, ears straining. The jungle’s ambient sounds shifted. What had been a symphony of chirps and low drones turned suddenly tense. He crouched behind a massive tree, gripping the revolver tightly. Nearby, two creatures were locked in a dispute. One growled—low, sharp, and feline. The other emitted guttural huffs, more herbivorous but no less threatening.

  Peeking around the trunk, Evren spotted a clearing below, half-ringed by a steep cliff. One creature—sleek and predatory—was cornered against the rock wall. Its metallic body gleamed with a gunmetal sheen, bioluminescent runes pulsing faintly along its flanks like a living circuit. The runes shifted and changed, except for one at the tip of its tail, which remained constant. Its crystalline eyes glowed with a desperate intelligence.

  Advancing toward it was a hulking, eight-foot-tall creature that resembled a pangolin, though far more terrifying. Its overlapping scales shimmered like liquid metal, blues and purples rippling with each step. Between the scales, faint veins pulsed with teal light, crackling with arcs of electricity that scorched the ground. Each thunderous step made Evren’s pulse quicken.

  The feline’s growl deepened, and one of the glowing runes on its shoulder flared brightly. With a roar, it projected the rune into the air, then swung its tail, striking it. The rune detonated, sending shards of ice flying at the pangolin. The shards shattered harmlessly against the iridescent scales. Another rune followed, then another—fire, lightning, pure energy—all equally ineffective.

  Evren swore under his breath, sweat dripping down his face. “What the fuck? Magic? These things can use magic?”

  The pangolin’s advance was relentless. It halted just a step away from the feline and released a pulse of electricity that leaped from its scales into its prey. The feline let out a strangled yelp before collapsing, lifeless. Evren watched in horrified fascination as the pangolin’s long, shimmering tongue extended, piercing the feline’s armored body. Pulses of light—energy, perhaps?—flowed from the corpse into the predator as it fed.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Evren’s stomach churned. He pressed himself against the tree, heart hammering, as the pangolin finished and lumbered off into the jungle, its glowing form fading into the foliage. Silence returned, broken only by the faint hum of distant insects.

  Evren exhaled shakily, forcing himself to think. The feline—or whatever it was—had been capable of incredible feats, but even that hadn’t been enough. What did that mean for him? He was no apex predator. Just another piece of meat in this hellish food chain.

  Carefully, he crept into the clearing, eyes scanning the jungle for any sign of the pangolin’s return. The feline’s body lay still, its glowing runes dim. Kneeling beside it, he inspected the markings, particularly the unchanging rune on its tail. The design was intricate, almost deliberate. Could it be some kind of core or focus for its magic? He resisted the urge to touch it, wary of triggering whatever residual energy it might hold.

  Instead, he studied the clearing itself. The cliff offered potential shelter, provided he could find a way up. Tree roots snaked through the stone, forming natural ledges he might be able to climb. The ground here was firmer than the jungle’s soft loam, and a nearby stream—its water faintly shimmering with bioluminescent particles—promised a steady supply.

  Evren stood, his decision made. He’d set up camp here for the night. The cliff gave him a defensible position, and the stream was close enough to purify water. With luck, he’d survive long enough to figure out what the hell this planet was and how to escape it.

  The feline’s lifeless body lay crumpled near the cliff wall, its glowing runes fading like dying embers. Despite its tragic end, the creature’s carcass represented an opportunity. Resources were scarce, and he couldn’t afford to waste anything that might help him survive.

  He crouched beside the liger-like creature and examined its metallic body. The runes were intricate, etched deep into its sleek surface, and though many had dimmed, the one on the tail tip still glimmered faintly. Evren hesitated before reaching out with his knife.

  “Let’s hope you don’t have any surprises left,” he muttered under his breath.

  The blade scraped against the alloy-like flesh, and he realized this was no ordinary creature. Its body was resistant, like cutting through tempered steel. Instead, he shifted his focus to the glowing tail rune. Using the edge of his knife, he chipped away at the section until he managed to pry the fragment loose. It was surprisingly light and warm to the touch, humming faintly in his palm. He didn’t know what it was or how it worked, but instinct told him it might come in handy.

  Satisfied, he moved to secure the area. The cliff wall offered one side of protection, and the dense jungle bordered the other. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do for now. He spent the next hour gathering materials: fallen branches, thick leaves, and vines. The jungle was teeming with life, and every movement in the corner of his vision made him tense. The sounds of unseen creatures—a distant roar, a chorus of chirps, the rustle of leaves—kept him on edge.

  Evren found a cluster of broad-leafed plants and used his knife to cut down several leaves. These were layered and sturdy, perfect for a makeshift shelter. Returning to the clearing, he leaned the branches against the cliff wall to form a simple lean-to. The leaves were layered over the structure to shield him from rain or dew, though the humidity promised an uncomfortable night regardless.

  As he worked, he noticed the glowing veins of the jungle plants emitted a soft bioluminescent light, casting the clearing in an eerie, shifting glow. It was both beautiful and unnerving.

  Next, he dug a shallow fire pit near the cliff’s base using a sharp rock, placing dry twigs and kindling inside. He struck a match from the survival kit, carefully shielding the tiny flame from the humid air. Soon, the fire crackled softly, its light and warmth a small comfort in the alien wilderness.

  Evren rummaged through his pack and pulled out one of the ration bars. It wasn’t appetizing, but it was fuel, and that was all that mattered. He ate quickly, washing it down with a small sip of water from his canteen. Conservation was key—he didn’t know how long he’d need to make his supplies last.

  As the night deepened, the jungle came alive with strange sounds. The air buzzed faintly with static electricity, likely residual from the pangolin’s earlier attack. Above, the giant lightning bug-like creature drifted slowly through the sky, its glow dimming slightly, as if signaling nightfall.

  Evren checked his revolver, ensuring it was loaded and within arm’s reach, before settling under the lean-to. He didn’t trust this place—not the jungle, not the creatures, and certainly not the quiet moments when nothing stirred. Sleep would be fitful, but he needed rest if he was going to survive another day.

  As he lay back against the cliff wall,, staring out into the flickering shadows cast by the fire, one thought lingered in his mind:

  “No one used magic in this game before… Which means no one knew about it. This could be the leg up I need,” he whispered to himself, a flicker of hope igniting within him.

  As the fire crackled softly, Evren shifted his weight against the cliff wall, wrapping his flight suit tighter to shield against the encroaching damp chill of the jungle night. His eyes flickered shut, but his ears stayed alert for the faintest rustle from the perimeter. Every part of him knew the dangers of this planet didn’t sleep.

  “This first night…” he thought, gripping his knife tighter. “Just survive this one night.”