Silent Woods

The world swam back into focus, not with the jarring snap of waking in a cold alley, but with a dull, aching throb that resonated deep within his bones. Moss pressed soft and cool against his cheek. Sunlight, filtered through the dense canopy above, painted shifting patterns of gold and green across his eyelids.

He blinked, once, twice. Towering trees, emerald ferns, the faint scent of damp earth and decaying leaves.

'Ah… right. Not a dream, then.'

The memory of the clearing – the blood, the tearing sounds, the crunch under his fist, the rock hitting home – slammed back into him with the force of a physical blow. He squeezed his eyes shut, nausea churning in his gut. The headless goblin. The vacant eyes of the girl. The feeling of that raw, unfamiliar power tearing through him…

He pushed himself up, groaning softly. Every muscle protested. The internal ache from his disastrous mana experiment yesterday had subsided into a persistent, grumpy soreness, like he'd done a thousand sit-ups after years of inactivity. 

Which, metaphorically speaking, wasn't far off.

He instinctively checked his status, the familiar blue panel flickering into existence.

STATUS:

Name: Sunny 

Level: 1 

Class: Unassigned [AWAKENED] 

HP: 48/50 [Minor Internal Damage - Recovering] 

MP: 35/35 

Stats: STR: 15, VIT: 14, AGI: 13, INT: 5, WIS: 6, CHA: 5, LCK: 8 

Unspent Stat Points: 10 

...

Okay, HP almost full. The body felt… better than yesterday, definitely. Stronger. The numbers didn't lie. Awakened. He still wasn't sure what that fully entailed, beyond the sudden, terrifying surge of power and the boosted stats.

One thing was noticeably different, though. Silence.

Not just the relative quiet of the forest, but the lack of snarky commentary floating at the edge of his vision.

'Sys? You there?' he thought, tentatively directing the question towards the empty space where her text usually appeared.

Nothing. The status panel remained, solid and informative, but the sassy AI personality was completely absent.

'Huh. Maybe she's… sleeping? Or recharging? Did I break her when I almost blew myself up?' The thought sent a tiny, unexpected pang of… something through him. Annoyance? Worry? It was weirdly unsettling not having her sarcastic commentary chiming in. Like yelling into an empty room after getting used to the echo.

Well, whatever. He couldn't worry about a grumpy text box right now. A more pressing issue demanded attention: his stomach. It wasn't just rumbling; it was staging a full-blown rebellion, growling and cramping with an emptiness that echoed the hollow feeling in his chest.

'Right. Food. Priority one.' Surviving meant eating, after all. Even with fancy stats, starving was still starving.

He got to his feet, stretching carefully. The borrowed tunic, stiff with dried goblin ichor, felt disgusting against his skin. He needed clothes. And water. And definitely food.

He scanned the surrounding woods. Trees, bushes, more trees. No convenient noodle shop bins here. No dropped sandwiches near park benches. This was… nature. Wild, untamed, and probably full of things that either wanted to eat him or were incredibly hard to catch.

'Okay, Awakened powers, don't fail me now.' He closed his eyes, trying to focus, remembering the feeling of heightened senses during the fight. 'Animals. Need to find animals. Small ones. Edible ones. Preferably ones that don't fight back too hard.'

He extended his senses, trying to feel the forest, listening intently, sniffing the air. Maybe his Wisdom stat would kick in? Or that Luck stat? Come on, universe, throw me a bone. Or a rabbit.

He heard birds chirping. Insects buzzing. Leaves rustling in a faint breeze. He smelled damp earth, pine needles, moss. Nothing else. No tell-tale scurrying, no scent of nearby deer, not even a grumpy badger.

He opened his eyes. Still just trees.

"Fuck," he muttered aloud, kicking lightly at a tree root. "Useless! What's the point of having 15 Strength if I can't even find a stupid squirrel? Do I have to punch trees until lunch falls out?"

His INT score of 5 felt particularly mocking right now. Awakened, maybe. Still clueless.

Right. Random wandering it is. Plan B. Or was this Plan C already? He'd lost count. He picked a direction – slightly downhill this time, figuring water might collect lower down – and started walking, trying to push down the rising anxiety.

The forest remained stubbornly indifferent. Sunlight slanted through the leaves, the air grew warmer as midday approached, but the scenery barely changed. It was beautiful, in a way – the sheer scale of the trees, the vibrant green of the moss, the feeling of untouched wilderness. But it was also unnervingly empty. Oppressively silent, without Sys's chatter or any sign of civilization.

He walked for what felt like hours, the initial determination fading back into weary frustration. His stomach's complaints grew louder, more insistent. He scanned the ground constantly, hoping for edible-looking berries (though how would he know?), mushrooms (definitely not touching those after seeing the weird fungus yesterday), anything.

Just as he was about to slump against another identical tree and wallow in self-pity, something caught his eye. On a patch of damp earth near the base of a thick, vine-covered trunk.

Tracks.

Not the small, delicate prints of a deer or rabbit. Not the messy, clawed tracks of the goblins. These were… different.

He crouched down, peering closer. Three distinct marks, pressed deep into the mud. Large. Almost perfectly circular, each about the size of his fist, spaced oddly far apart in a triangular pattern. There was no sign of claws, no discernible heel or toe shape. Just… three smooth, round indentations. Like something heavy, supported on three blunt posts, had rested here.

A shiver traced its way down his spine, completely unrelated to the lingering ache in his muscles. He looked around sharply, scanning the dense foliage. The birdsong seemed to have faded. The air felt… still. Heavy.

He followed the direction the tracks seemed to lead – deeper into the shadowed woods – with his eyes. The strange, three-point pattern continued, marching away into the gloom, each set spaced a good five or six feet apart. Whatever made these was big. And it moved… strangely.

His [Instinctive Appraisal] perk remained stubbornly silent. No red warning flashes. No threat assessment. Whatever made these tracks wasn't nearby, or maybe… maybe the system didn't recognize it?

The silence from Sys suddenly felt less like an annoyance and more like a gaping void. He was alone. Truly alone, with boosted stats he barely understood, facing tracks left by something utterly unknown in a world that was rapidly shedding its initial 'second chance' appeal and revealing sharper, stranger teeth.

He looked back the way he came, then forward, towards the unsettling trail disappearing into the shadows. His hunger momentarily forgotten, replaced by a cold knot of apprehension and a burning, unwelcome curiosity.

What in the Goddess's forgotten name made tracks like that?