From within her crude shelter, Zoe watched rain cascade around her as lightning fractured the night sky. A particularly close bolt caught her attention. Pressing her eye against a crack in the shelter wall, she witnessed a thick streak of electricity strike a nearby mountain.
Shortly after, another bolt hit the same spot, followed by several more in close proximity. 'That's interesting. I should investigate that mountain after the storm passes.' Moving away from the wall, she examined her collection of gathered materials—several standard rocks, some obsidian, a small piece of corundum, and a fragment of hematite.
With a determined smile, she selected the corundum, some obsidian, and a flat rock. Laying the rock down as a base, she positioned the obsidian atop it and gripped the corundum in her free hand. 'First priority: tools.'
She struck down on the obsidian, the force causing a side to shear off cleanly. Rotating the rock methodically, she continued working the stone until she had produced a sharp obsidian blade. Testing its edge with her thumb, she nodded in satisfaction.
She tested the makeshift knife against the bird's corpse, slicing through the flesh with surprising ease. Grabbing some vines and a long, thick stick—approximately a meter long and eight centimetres thick—she began splitting one end.
Catching herself becoming distracted by another project she shook her head and refocused on the knife, taking a smaller stick and splitting it into two pieces that she bound to the flattest part of the obsidian blade, creating a more comfortable handle.
With her improved knife, she sliced strips of meat from the bird. Holding up a slice, she positioned it to catch the firelight, inspecting its quality.
"This looks fine—no signs of contamination," she murmured. Grabbing a thin stick she skewers the meat slices and stabbed the end into the sand near the fire to cook. While the meat roasted, she continued crafting tools and rudimentary clothing, her fingers moving with practiced precision despite the centuries of mental imprisonment.
Throughout the night, as the rain gradually subsided, she worked tirelessly. By the time dawn's first light peeked over the horizon, her fire had dwindled to embers, and she had completed weaving makeshift clothes from the gathered ferns.
As sunlight filtered through gaps in her shelter, Zoe grabbed the vine backpack she'd constructed during the night and loaded it with her pieces of corundum, malachite, and obsidian shards. She attached her newly made stone axe to a loop on the side of her pack.
Untying the vines that held one wall together, she crawled out of the shelter and stood, stretching muscles that had been dormant for millennia yet somehow retained their strength. Donning her rudimentary vine garments before securing the backpack around her shoulders.
She grabbed her longest stick and thrust one end into the fire's embers while tucking a few extra sticks into her bag. Taking her obsidian knife, she hooked it into a loop on her vine belt and retrieved her crudely fashioned stone spear.
"I've got basic tools and some barely adequate clothing," she assessed. "Now I need to find a reliable source of fresh water." She checked that the end of her stick was sufficiently smouldering before turning away from her shelter. With a glance toward the distant mountain—the one that had attracted so many lightning strikes—she began walking along the beach in its direction.
As she travelled, she kept vigilant for large animals and useful materials. Along the way, she encountered multiple stone statues partially buried in the ground, each in various stages of deterioration. She approached one that resembled a middle-aged man, with pieces missing from his arms and legs.
She examined the severed arm, assessing its mineral composition and structure. "The petrification effect appears to penetrate completely through the body," she observed. "I wonder if this man remains conscious... probably not."
Lacking time for thorough analysis, she returned to the beach and continued toward the mountain. By evening, she reached its base, finding a clearing beside a flowing river. Using her smouldering stick—carefully tended throughout the day's journey—she started a new fire. She gathered sticks from the surrounding area to construct a basic cot before lying down to rest.
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Zoe awoke a few hours later to profound darkness, broken only by the gentle glow of her diminished fire. 'That's going to get annoying rather quickly,' she thought, rolling her eyes as she rose from her makeshift bed and tossed more wood onto the flames.
As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she surveyed her surroundings. "I've secured water, and food shouldn't be too difficult to obtain. Next priority: better shelter." Scanning the clearing, she spotted a tall oak tree at the perimeter. She approached it, kicked off its trunk, and caught the lowest branch.
Hanging momentarily, she tested the branch's strength by shuffling along it in both directions before pulling herself atop it near the trunk. With athletic precision, she jumped from branch to branch, her movements fluid and calculating as part of her mind simultaneously assessed the wood's flexibility and strength.
Satisfied with her evaluation, she leapt from the branch, executed a perfect roll upon landing, and rose gracefully to her feet. "This tree will more than suffice for my needs." She jogged back to her campfire and retrieved her crude axe from beside her bag. As she turned toward the darkness of the forest, she hesitated briefly before also taking her spear.
Moving through the shadowed forest with confidence, her enhanced vision provided nearly supernatural awareness within the dense canopy. Nevertheless, she maintained her bearings, never letting the campfire disappear from sight. She bounded through the forest, leaping between branches while mentally cataloguing every tree she passed.
In mid-air, she reached out and grasped a tree approximately twenty centimetres in diameter. Spinning around it like a seasoned gymnast, she used it as a fireman's pole to descend to the ground. Straightening up she tapped her knuckles against the wood, nodded with satisfaction, and drew her axe from her belt. Lining it up against the base, she swung with precision.
The obsidian blade bit into the hard wood, wobbling slightly but holding firm. Frowning, she pried the axe free and tightened its bindings before swinging again. Satisfied with the improved performance, she continued hacking at the tree.
After several minutes of persistent chopping, the tree began to give way. Stepping back, Zoe waited for it to fall completely before stripping vines from a nearby tree. "These should serve my immediate purposes."
Twisting the vines together into a crude rope she secured one end to the base of the fallen tree. Gripping the other end, she planted her feet firmly and began pulling. The improvised rope held for several meters before snapping violently, whipping against her back. Wincing, she rubbed her bruising skin as she reassessed the situation.
With a resigned sigh, she bent down and grasped the tree by a low-hanging branch. Channelling her superhuman strength to its maximum capacity, she began dragging the tree back toward the clearing.
Upon reaching the clearing minutes later, she dropped the twenty-meter log to the ground and collapsed onto her bed, exhausted despite her enhanced abilities. 'I desperately need better materials. Perhaps I can locate some bamboo in the morning.'
As she contemplated the fallen tree, her throat called for water. Sighing, she rose and took her spear in hand. Heading toward the river, she paused to examine her weapon, noticing loose bindings on the spearhead.
Placing the spear on the ground she tightened the loose vines, inserting a small stick into the knot and twisting it for leverage. She secured the improvised tightening mechanism to the spear shaft with additional vines.
Continuing to the river, she crouched at the shore, cupped her hands, and drank deeply. As she rose, the faint sound of crunching leaves from within the forest froze her in place.
She spun with blinding speed, leveling her spear toward the tree line. In the distance, her campfire glowed dimly. Focusing her enhanced vision, she discerned five shadowy figures surrounding her, each approximately 140 centimetres tall.
Holding her spear steady, her mind accelerated into overdrive, analysing the terrain and identifying potential obstacles or advantages. The shadows advanced slowly until she could make out their forms in detail.
'Why are there wolves in Japan? They don't match the typical Gray wolf profile—they're too large, and their skeletal structure seems weird.' She filed away her observations for later consideration and turned her attention to immediate survival. She assessed the closest tree, calculating distances and escape routes.
'That tree is approximately fifteen meters away. If I can reach it, I should be able to outmanoeuvre the wolves. The problem is the wolf positioned directly beneath it.' Internally cursing her predicament, she sought alternative options. Behind her, the river flowed swiftly into darkness; before her, the wolves had strategically blocked her escape routes.
Her tactical assessment was interrupted when one wolf charged forward, lunging for her throat. Dropping into a crouch with supernatural speed, she evades the initial attack as the wolf sailed over her and landed behind. Immediately she sprinted in the direction from which the wolf had come, positioning herself to keep all five predators in her field of vision.
The first wolf pivoted and lunged again while its pack slowly closed the circle. Dodging the attack, she found her path blocked as the wolf landed before her. Without breaking stride, she thrust her spear toward the wolf's eye as it turned. Unprepared for her speed, the wolf failed to evade, and the sharp stone point penetrated deep into its socket.
The wolf collapsed, convulsing, with her spear still embedded in its skull. Abandoning the stuck weapon, she leaped over the fallen creature and continued sprinting toward her chosen tree. She heard another wolf gaining on her from behind.
Pushing her muscles to their limit, she launched herself toward the lowest branch, soaring through the air to catch a handhold four meters above the ground. Using her momentum, she pivoted on the branch and catapulted herself higher, landing on an upper branch and running along it toward her campfire.
Parkouring between trees with acrobatic precision, she gradually outpaced the pursuing wolves. Reaching the edge of the clearing, she dropped from the branch and dashed toward the fire.
Snatching her axe, she continued across the clearing toward the oak tree she'd inspected earlier. Leaping onto the lowest branch she climbed rapidly until she was approximately ten meters above the ground.
Bracing against the trunk, she turned to assess the situation while catching her breath. Below, the wolves encircled the tree, snarling with ferocious intensity. One stepped forward, charged the trunk, and dug its claws into the bark as it jumped.
The wolf climbed steadily, reaching the first branch before stopping to growl up at her. 'They're more persistent than I anticipated, and they'll eventually reach me.' Her eyes darted around, identifying several straight branches about four centimetres thick and a meter and a half long.
Moving carefully along the narrow trunk with perfect balance, she reached the suitable branches and began chopping at them with her axe. As she grabbed the first stick and began sharpening its end, her attention flickered between her hands and the climbing wolf.
The wolf reached the branch just below hers and growled—a sound that seemed almost mocking. Further down, another wolf began climbing as the last two circled the base. The lead wolf dug its claws into the bark and climbed the final meter toward her position.
Realizing time was running out, Zoe gripped the sharpened stick like a javelin. Drawing back her arm, muscles coiled with tension. Waiting for the perfect moment as the wolf transferred both front paws onto her branch.
'Now!' Her arm shot forward, the makeshift javelin whistling through the air with deadly accuracy. The wolf opened its mouth to growl, and the stick plunged straight down its throat.
She lunged forward, grabbing the protruding end of the stick and using her momentum to drive it deeper. Blood spurted from the wolf's throat, spattering her hands, which were already bleeding from massive splinters embedded in her palms.
She kicked the mortally wounded wolf, sending it crashing into the second climbing wolf and knocking both to the ground. Taking a deep breath, she realized she had little time as the two remaining wolves rushed forward, growling furiously as they moved to aid their fallen packmate.
Wincing, she pulled the largest splinters from her palms without taking her eyes off the wolves. She hurried back to the remaining branches and resumed her work.
'Only two more—they'll have to suffice.' She sharpened both sticks while monitoring the wolves, who had begun climbing the tree simultaneously. Working frantically, she finished sharpening just as the lead wolf reached her level.
She threw the first makeshift spear with all her strength, but it veered slightly off target, stabbing into the wolf's hind leg. The wolf yelped, shook its injured limb, dislodging the stick before continuing its advance, now limping.
With nowhere to retreat—a wolf before her, two wolves below, and a lethal drop behind—Zoe seized her second stick and charged. The injured wolf snarled and leapt to meet her attack, dropping suddenly from the branch she uses her free hand to grasp it and swing herself around in a complete circle. Landing behind the disoriented wolf, she delivered a powerful kick to its injured leg.
The impact launched the wolf off the branch where it plummeted ten meters to the ground, landing with a sickening crack. Spinning with fluid grace, she channelled her enhanced strength and momentum to hurl the final stick toward the nearest climbing wolf.
The improvised spear struck the wolf's neck, penetrating deeply and severing an artery. The wolf lost its grip and tumbled from the tree, leaving only one opponent.
Adjusting her grip on the axe, she focused intently on the final wolf, which continued climbing with renewed determination, its mournful wailing filling the night. She held the axe above her head and approached the trunk cautiously, maintaining a strategic distance.
As the wolf reached her branch and shifted its front paws onto the surface, she charged forward and brought the axe down with maximum force onto the wolf's skull. Blood sprayed as the axe splintered in her grip.
The concussed and heavily bleeding wolf wobbled precariously. Releasing what remained of her axe she twisted, delivering a full-strength punch to the wolf's head. The wolf tilted and tumbled from the tree, bouncing off branches during its descent before coming to rest motionless on the ground.
Breathing heavily, Zoe collapsed against the branch, blood still flowing from the numerous cuts on her hands. "Holy shit, that was intense," she gasped, a maniacal grin spreading across her face despite the danger she'd just survived. "I can't deny I enjoyed the stakes, though."
Her breathing gradually steadied as the first rays of dawn painted the horizon, illuminating the aftermath of her night-long struggle for survival.