chapter 1

"— So useless. — Marlon spoke after a few minutes of silence. He approached and took the staff from my hands.

— This toy here can't hurt anyone — with a snap, the staff broke in half. His hands glowed in blue for a few seconds.

— They can't even handle my contained state — he said arrogantly while wiping his hand against his clothes.

— B-but... I can only do this... — I shrank, feeling like crying.

If he left or attacked me, how would I fare? It's been less than two weeks since I woke up in this strange place, and fortunately — or unfortunately — after waking up, walking, and reading the diary for a while, I realized I couldn't live alone. The world is too dangerous.

After walking miserable kilometers in a God-forsaken Oasis, I managed to find a single tree.

I managed to cut it with all the care in the world, and luckily, it dropped two seeds before disappearing.

In the chapter on biomes, it explains the reason for this strange phenomenon that affects not only wood but the entire world, which left me a bit shocked.

"Compared to the beginning when our enemies only used low-quality and non-lethal materials. Now, their powerful elite has just created another milestone; (creation). A completely strange ability that can merge and create existing weapons relatively easily and can create new items depending on the imagination."

"According to mission report 138, our worst nightmare has come true; they managed to merge the ability with the environment. All construction materials that would probably take hours or even days to be made were shortened in such a dramatic way that it's almost like a joke. A damn joke!"

"Day 4980: we finally managed to find a way to neutralize the legendary ability. Our flora is in chaos, and the soil itself is changing, I can feel it. After much research and experimentation, we developed something called (workbench) whose functionality is no less than the ability. Allowing us to craft — create — items with more precision than any other method, and once again, we reversed the tide and reclaimed the territory."

"We also made use of strange magic (deep dark) to force them to act, even if only a little. It didn't take long for our prayers to be answered soon... But not the way we expected... And then it happened..."

"So all of this was the result of war?" My body froze at the mere thought.

At that time, they were so advanced, they should be even more so today... Thinking back, what if the reason for being here has something to do with a crazy machine or ability? Is this diary really trustworthy? I looked again at the diary in my hands, trying to find a flaw, any.

Unfortunately, I didn't find one. Its simple design and clear yet precise words, wanting to tell a story or give a warning but not being able to, and simply so strange, as if someone or something didn't want us to know something... well, or maybe, it could all be just my hallucination and madness. I was dying of thirst, and there was no clean water nearby.

I explored a few more places, strolling through some beautiful sand dunes and immaculate white pearl deserts, enjoying the scenery. I was so tired of walking that I fell asleep in a desert pyramid, admiring the drawings and hieroglyphics of this world, which are very similar to the one I came from. The next morning, while exploring the place, I found some chests, but they were all empty.

Someone had probably been there before. Continuing the exploration, I found what seemed to be catacombs, scribbled and in some places, mummified and mutilated bodies, painted in fluorescent colors and nailed to the walls, as if they were following me at every step, sometimes I looked at them, only to receive the same indifferent expression and looks so empty and dark that if I didn't have a torch, I would have refused to take another step.

Moving on, I entered a large and spacious room, with no adornments or anything flashy, but the floor was covered in blood and organs. Some were already well decomposed, while others seemed to have been added recently to the place. A chill ran down my spine, but I refused to retreat now.

Approaching, I saw that the blood and organs had formed a circle that surrounded the entire room, but there was not just one; but several, in descending order — decreasing. The closer to the center, the more putrid and recent the blood and organs were.

Reaching the middle of the room, there was an altar, and on that altar, there was someone — or something — that wriggled uncomfortably with something, I couldn't know what; it was wrapped in something like a plastic bag, but different from what is known, the more he screamed, the tighter it seemed to get, causing the cycle of pain. I averted my eyes, fearing that I might run there and possibly end up in a trap.

I was about to turn and leave when an unusual sound echoed through the room, looking in the likely direction, I saw that on the other side of the room, a door was being opened. From it came two men, dressed in white clothes and each holding a lantern, like two lights in the darkness.

I quickly extinguished my torch and moved a little, hiding in the darkness. As they walked, they treated everything around as something common.

One of them crouched down and picked up a kidney, examined it, and then placed it back on the ground, shaking his head in the process, clearly disappointed. Fear grew inside me with each step they took, and even though I was curious, I didn't want to lose my life.

I retreated into the darkness. I didn't realize where I was until I bumped into the wall, as it made a muffled sound, I didn't scream, even though my eyes swelled, so as not to attract their attention. My forehead hurt, and when I touched it, it was stained with blood.

— damn it — I cursed internally. I followed the wall to find my way back, but stopped at the door, paralyzed when I heard the conversation between the two.

— Hum? Did you hear? — one of them asked, stopping, turning, and looking around. Walking a bit, his lantern dispelled the darkness quickly.

— I think it was just in your mind, Rick. Let's finish this quickly. This place gives me the creeps — the other man said in a hurry, a bit uncomfortable, I guess.

— Wouldn't be surprised if there were "ghosts" here — He laughed as he saw Rick almost drop the lantern and run back — stop being a wimp, man. Just yesterday you killed someone beheaded, and now you're afraid of the revenge of a likely ghost? What are you, a crybaby?

— N-no, of course not, it's just...the sound was so sudden, and for a moment, I thought there might be someone here — his eyes shifted away from his friend. Of course, that wasn't the only reason, but he didn't need to know.

The other man fell silent, clearly not knowing what to say. By the time they had known each other, he could tell whether the other was lying or not.

I've translated the text for you:

Ignoring Rick, he continued walking and stopped in front of the altar, pulling a knife from an unknown place. He cut the bag horizontally, revealing a blindfolded girl, her arms and legs bound by ropes the thickness of two fingers. Her mouth was also gagged with a piece of the same material that covered her before.

She seemed very young, small and fragile, with not much to notice on her body. Rick approached and cut the blindfold with a dagger, revealing a pair of beautiful emerald-colored eyes.

The girl seemed to calm down when she finally regained her sight but started crying when she realized they weren't there to save her. Her muffled cries filled the air, her eyes pleading for salvation from anyone but finding only indifference.

"It seems like Sleeping Beauty had a good rest," the man spoke with a sinister smile. She couldn't do anything but squirm in an attempt to free herself, which was impossible.

"We warned you, didn't we, Camila? Even though you're a child, you must contribute to the Clan by marrying Rick and sharing your abilities. But you had to be defiant and try to escape, didn't you? You could reveal what we do to others, you know too much, Camila. If it were anyone else, we could ignore it, but not you. It's all your fault!" The man spoke apologetically, mixed emotions in his eyes, holding back from breaking down. Rick, who was standing beside him, began to cry, not out of pity but out of anger.

"You! It's all your fault! Yes, yours! Because of you, we have to do this, because of you, we have to purge you. Oh, Camila, why? Am I so terrible that you prefer to die than live with me? Am I so repulsive that you reject me?" Exploding in rage, Rick slapped Camila, who, unable to do anything, just cried. Her face was marked with Rick's five fingers.

"It's no use talking, brother. She might poison us with her words. We must finish things quickly. The ritual will be in less than a month." He handed the knife to Rick, who almost instantly changed his personality, still crying but with cold, deadly eyes, and a hint of pleasure in his expression.

"Do we have to kill her now, brother? I think we should make the most of her before that, shouldn't we?" After speaking, Rick stabbed Camila in the leg and, using his ability, managed to stop the bleeding relatively easily.

"We won't let her have such a quick death, sweetheart. You should know that." He ran the blood-soaked knife across Camila's face, cutting her in the process. Camila just moaned and weakly struggled, incapable of doing anything. Her tears flowed like fierce rivers, soaking her body and dripping onto the floor.

Watching from a distance, my heart skipped a beat with the scene. I couldn't do anything to help. With teary eyes, I bit my hand to avoid screaming and releasing the growing anger in my heart.

I slowly retraced my steps with some difficulty, passing by the gleaming skulls. I quickened my pace while still hearing loud, muffled sounds coming from the room behind me. I only calmed down after running out of that temple; it was already dark outside.

My heart was racing at that moment. Damn, damn, damn, anxiety was building inside me, afraid that at any moment they might come after me. Several minutes passed, and as I distanced myself further from the temple, I collapsed on the ground and started crying like a helpless baby.

"Why does this world have to be so cruel? Why? If I had the strength, I could have helped," I muttered to no one.

I still blame myself for the girl's death. Although I now know that, even though I'm stronger, it might not make much of a difference. After all, there were two of them.

I didn't want to end up like that girl or sacrifice myself for her to survive. It's contradictory, I know, but my life is more important right now.

After calming down, I examined my surroundings again and confirmed that I wasn't being followed. I resumed my journey to find land to plant the tree seed. Kilometers and kilometers passed as if time had slowed down. A few days later, while fleeing from a pack of desert wolves, I accidentally bumped into a man riding a horse while fighting what looked like stone golems.

His ears must be very keen because as I got close, his eyes distracted from the battlefield to observe me for a second before returning to the fight and almost impossibly punching the golem, breaking half of its arm, leaving small blue threads at the wound, likely preventing regeneration.

The golem, realizing it couldn't win, used its great strength to punch the ground, creating a crater and several cracks, creating smaller holes where it disappeared seconds later.

The impact was so great that I lost my balance and fell into one of the faults, but luckily, they were only a few centimeters deep.

"Are you okay, kid?" the man asked. He was a few steps from the impact site, which was quite strange.

Realistically, it was impossible for him to remain still. Even the horse nearby was sent flying by the force.

"Y-yes," I said with difficulty, trying to breathe and ending up choking. The cut on my forehead reopened and started bleeding.

He approached quickly, and before I could do anything or protest, he touched my face with his blue hands.

I was so scared that I ended up fainting. The last thing I remember is his lips moving before darkness engulfed everything.

I woke up with a terrible headache and had difficulty breathing. I was lying on what looked like a rectangular stone bed with woolen rugs and a leather sheet. I looked around, and it seemed to be a cave.

In the center, there was a furnace, and its heat spread throughout the place. Next to it was a worktable.

My eyes widened when the memories returned, and I practically jumped out of bed, trying to run to the cave's entrance. However, as soon as my feet touched the ground, my body went limp, and I fell, my head hurting badly, making me feel dizzy.

The cave's door opened, and he entered. His expression changed when he saw me lying on the floor, muttering. He lifted me and sat me on the bed.

"You hit your head pretty hard, kid. Your forehead cracked, and your lungs were full of dust and blood. Fortunately, I managed to heal you in time, or you would have died," he said irritably, moving his hands, touching my chest and head.

My vision improved, and I could breathe normally. "You need to rest until I heal you completely." He stepped back and started working on the furnace.

I lay down on the bed with some difficulty, feeling like my whole body was sore despite having been healed. The top of the cave was somewhat rounded, with a large vault covering the ceiling. The stone was smooth and solid, appearing to have been carved rather than naturally formed. I closed my eyes to rest while waiting for food.

The days passed, and during this time, I remained lying down. Sometimes, I tried to get up, but a sharp pain that left me breathless and dizzy prevented it.

Marlon became more diligent, visiting me twice a day to heal me. He was a very handsome guy: dark complexion, amber eyes, brown hair tied in a ponytail, a large and muscular body that wasn't very visible but was exposed in his dress shirt with a few buttons undone, revealing his sexy abdomen.

His voice deepened as he scolded me, sending shivers down my spine during the nights. We didn't share a bed because he chose to sleep on the floor, saying it was enough.

As time passed, I began to feel something strange inside me. One night, I had a very peculiar dream:

I found myself standing in what appeared to be an altar, and above the altar, something resembling a worktable was floating. It was purple with golden details, and there was a book hovering in the middle. It seemed alive because it moved on its own.

At first, I couldn't understand anything, but as time passed, the light in the place dimmed while the table with the book grew brighter.

Mysterious letters that seemed to materialize out of nowhere appeared, and they seemed to be drawn towards the book, which, as if aware of the letters, began to move. The pages sped up as strange words were written.

Looking at the written pages, I felt something inside me. The restlessness I had been feeling recently began to calm.

Little by little, I learned to read, as if I had gone back to school. I had to relearn almost everything, sentences, verbs, pronouns, and so on. Time seemed to stand still in that place.

What I remember is that suddenly, just as they had appeared, those strange symbols resembling letters and geometric figures disappeared, and the book on the table trembled. The whole place started to shake and crumble, turning into dust that converged into the book.

Desperate, I tried to find a way to escape, but the room seemed to have no exit, while the book became even brighter, and its leather cover turned golden, dazzling my vision completely