Survive on the island for a month.

  The words still rang in Adrian’s head, even though the voice was gone.

  He blinked at the forest around him, stunned. Thick vines twisted up the trunks of colossal trees, their canopies swallowing most of the sunlight. The air was damp and buzzing with life. Insects buzzing, birds shrieking.

  Sunlight pierced the canopy in fractured beams, catching on droplets of dew that slid down leaves.

  Adrian spun slowly in place. Everything around him was covered in green. There was no easy path to take, trees pressed close together, vines knotted thick as ropes, undergrowth clawing at his legs. Even the air felt heavy.

  His throat tightened. “A month? Alone?” His voice sounded small, swallowed instantly by the forest.

  He was stunned. This was his first time in a forest; the closest he had ever come was a park, and that was nothing like this. The park had open paths. This wasn’t a normal forest. Everything was bigger than he expected to be. He knew nothing about surviving in a place like this.

  "Luminara," he said, his voice almost like a whisper. But there was no answer. "Great. Stranded in a nightmare jungle with a knife. Thanks, Luminara."

  What was he even supposed to do to survive in a forest? He could endure hunger; he was used to that, but beyond that, he had little experience. Surviving the slums had taught him something, but this… this was different.

  He checked his body, half-hoping Luminara hadn’t left him completely bare-handed, and found a hunting knife strapped to his hip, in its sheath.

  "Thanks… I guess," he muttered, already sliding the blade free from its sheath.

  His heart pounded against his chest. Knowing it was only a simulation calmed him slightly, but it did little to quiet the fear clawing at his mind.

  He spent the next few minutes scanning the area, but no matter how carefully he looked, he still had no idea what he was supposed to do. Food, water, shelter. But how was he supposed to find any of it? If he got lucky, he might stumble across some edible berries or mushrooms. Luck, he thought bitterly. That seemed like the only thing that could get him the basics.

  After much deliberation, he realized he had to act quickly. If night fell, he’d be done for without shelter. With that thought pressing on him, he began moving in the direction that seemed the most passable.

  Every step felt like a battle; the forest was unbearably dense. Vines scraped his arms, wet leaves stuck to his skin, and every root threatened to trip him. Every step was uncertain. Roots twisted underfoot, mud stuck on his shoes, and thorns tore at his clothes.

  I'm not walking in circles, am I?

  He was probably in a rainforest. He tried using his knife to cut through the vines, but progress was slow. The blade wasn’t meant for slicing through such thick vegetation.

  After struggling for what felt like hours to push through the dense forest, Adrian finally sank to the ground. His clothes were soaked and torn, leaves and mud clinging stubbornly to him. He gasped for air, chest heaving, muscles screaming in protest. Every movement felt heavy, as if he had been running twenty kilometers without stopping.

  Progress had been far slower than he expected. Vines tangled around his arms, roots tripped him at every step, and the wet soil sapped his strength. He wiped sweat and grime from his brow, taking a moment to survey the endless green maze around him. Even knowing it was a simulation didn’t make the labor easier.

  Adrian sank lower to the ground, pressing his back against a thick tree trunk. Gasping, he let his mind work. Running blindly through the forest wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He had to think. If he wanted to last a month here, he needed a plan.

  But coming up with a plan was harder than he had imagined. He knew nothing about surviving in the wild. Sure, he’d seen a few survival shows as a kid, but those offered no real guidance here. He considered climbing a tree to get a better view of the forest, but the thought vanished almost instantly. He was too skinny, too weak; his arms trembled at the idea of hauling himself up the colossal trunks. The trees were giants, and he was barely more than a shadow beneath them.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  After a short break, he abandoned any grand planning and began walking in what he guessed was the direction of the sun, though he had no way to confirm it. This time, he moved more slowly, more deliberately, always choosing the path of least resistance and carefully watching each step. Vines and roots that had tripped him before now barely slowed his progress. He estimated he’d been in the forest for about two hours, though time felt warped, making it impossible to be sure.

  After walking for what felt like an eternity, though he had no way of knowing how far, he caught the faint sound of water trickling in the distance. His chest tightened, and a flicker of relief washed over him. For the first time since he’d entered the forest, a small thread of hope threaded through his nerves.

  His first instinct was to run toward the sound of the water, but he quickly caught himself. Running blindly through the forest was a perfect way to get an injury.

  When he finally found the stream, it was narrow, gurgling over smooth rocks. Adrian knelt, cupping the water in his hands, letting it trickle over his tongue. Sweet. It looks clean enough, he thought.

  He splashed it over his face, and the chill made him feel alive again, sharpening his senses.

  He stayed by the stream for a while, rinsing the cuts scattered across his body and scrubbing away the thick layer of mud. One essential task was done. He was clean and a little more prepared. Now came the harder part: finding shelter. It mattered more than food. He could go a day or two without eating, maybe even three, without losing his strength. But spending the night exposed to the elements felt like a death sentence.

  The path along the stream was less dense than the way he had come, so he started moving upstream. Staying close to the water was practical; he had no way to carry it, and losing sight of it could leave him stranded without a source to drink from.

  He spotted a few mushrooms along the stream, but he didn’t want to risk it. They looked strange, too strange. Some were bright in color, and he knew that was usually the first sign of a poisonous mushroom. Others had odd shapes, twisted like tiny sculptures, and some seemed to glisten unnaturally in the filtered sunlight, as if they weren’t entirely part of the forest.

  "Yeah, no thanks," he said, mostly to himself.

  The walk upstream was not even close to the hardship he faced in the dense part of the forest, but it was still hard.

  The canopy above darkened in patches, sunlight flickering through the leaves like a dying flame. A distant rumble rolled through the trees, low and slow, vibrating in his chest. Adrian froze. “No, no, no…” he muttered, eyes darting around. Clouds were gathering.

  He started walking faster. He would have started running, but there was no chance of running in this terrain. This was the last thing he needed: to get soaked before the night fell.

  He didn't even consider the possibility of rain. Now that he thought about it… he was in a rainforest. He wanted to slap himself. Seriously, it was in the name. A dry, bitter laugh escaped him.

  A few drops spattered on his face, and he hissed. “Of course…” The drizzle thickened in minutes, turning into a steady rain that hammered the leaves above. Water ran down his neck and into his collar, chilling him to the bone. Mud squelched beneath his boots as the ground turned slick and treacherous.

  He cursed, louder this time. “Damn It. Just my fucking luck.” His knife felt slippery in his wet hand, and every step became a calculated battle.

  Adrian pushed forward, water running down his face. The ground tilted upward. His legs burned, slipping on the mud, but he couldn’t stop now. He needed to find shelter and try to dry his clothes.

  He soon realized he was climbing a hill, or at least that’s what it felt like. The stream ran beside him, moving faster as the slope grew steeper. Every step was a battle; his legs burned, his lungs burned. It was hellish.

  If this wasn’t a simulation, he was certain he’d be dead in less than ten days.

  He started desperately scanning for shelter, but every nook or crevice he found had rain pouring through cracks and gaps. The cold seeped into his soaked clothes, and his teeth chattered uncontrollably. “Come on… come on…” he muttered under his breath, shivering, trying to keep moving.

  After what felt like an eternity, he finally spotted an opening. It looked like a cave, hidden under thick overgrowth. He approached cautiously, peering inside, and did not hear the patter of rain anywhere within. Relief flickered; this had to be the shelter he had been searching for.

  He got inside after struggling with the thick vines, but he made it. The cave was dry, and that brought a small, shaky smile to his shivering face. He knew he had to get rid of his wet clothes if he didn’t want to freeze, so he quickly stripped them off. The walls were covered in roots and branches, or something like that; he wasn’t paying much attention. He wrung out his clothes as best he could, squeezing the water until it stopped dripping, then draped them over the roots to dry.

  He glanced around, briefly considering gathering wood for a fire, but the thought was quickly dismissed. He had no matches, no flint, and no idea how to start a fire from scratch. Even if he did, the dampness would make it impossible, and he was far from skilled enough to do that.

  Sinking against the jagged stone wall, he hugged his knees, shivering lightly as exhaustion settled into his bones. His teeth clicked together as he tried to stop the trembling. Thoughts of survival, of hunger, and of the coming night blurred into a haze.

  I’m failing this one, he thought, letting out a dry laugh. If this wasn’t a simulation, there was no way he’d last five days, let alone the ten he’d imagined.

  Minutes stretched, and finally, his body gave in. Eyes heavy, muscles screaming, he allowed himself to drift into the brief, uneasy comfort of sleep, the sound of rain outside lulling him into darkness.