Jay didn't remember when walking turned into limping, or when limping became dragging his entire weight forward like a stubborn corpse refusing to lie down. The only thing he knew was pain — sharp, throbbing, relentless pain radiating from the acid-burned leg.
His HUD kept flickering warnings across his vision:
Health: 31%
Status: Worsening
Injury: Acid Burn / Minor Tissue Loss
He wiped sweat off his forehead and muttered, "I get it, HUD. I'm dying. Thanks for the hourly reminders."
Cortana floated beside him, expression tight with simulated concern. "Jay, you are not dying yet. But your vitals are dropping at a rate that strongly suggests you will if you continue ignoring your body's limitations."
"Good pep talk," he gasped.
The road ahead shimmered through the heat. The outline of the rusted, familiar structure — the one he recognized from pre-game starts and scrapped intro segments — loomed in the distance.
The first waypoint of a Vault Hunter.
He'd dreamed of seeing it. Now he was approaching it while half-crippled, possibly delirious, and smelling faintly like acid-damaged barbecue.
"Cortana," he wheezed, "if I pass out and wake up respawned, I'm suing somebody."
"Respawn technology does not currently appear accessible to you," she replied.
"Then I'm suing harder."
He took another step. His vision stuttered. The road tilted.
"Okay—okay, no, that's new." He stopped and grabbed his knee. "Cortana, are the rocks… wobbling?"
"No, Jay. You are wobbling."
"Right… right, yeah, that sounds more correct."
His legs buckled. He caught himself on one knee, hissing through clenched teeth.
"Jay, you need to stop."
He wanted to argue — he really did — but the burning pain finally overwhelmed sheer stubbornness.
"Fine," he growled. "Break time."
He dragged himself to the side of the road and collapsed onto a flat rock. His entire leg pulsed like a living furnace.
The moment he stopped moving, exhaustion slammed into him.
His HUD blinked again.
1 Skill Point Available
Jay blinked. "Wait… I leveled up?"
Cortana tilted her head. "You gained sufficient combat experience during the skag encounter. A skill point was allocated to your profile. I recommend using it immediately."
Jay forced out a laugh. "Wow. I nearly die, and my reward is PowerPoint progression. Thanks, universe."
But… he needed it.
He pulled up the Skill Menu.
Skill Trees: Survivor / Blink / Ruin Engine / Body
four skill trees floated before him — each stylized with Borderlands-esque neon borders.
But the one glowing faint orange drew his eye.
SURVIVOR — a tree dedicated to not dying horribly.
"Cortana," he mumbled, "highlight the healing perk."
The interface zoomed in.
• Iron Stomach (Rank 1) — Slow passive regeneration. Converts ambient absorbed particles into trace tissue recovery.
[Requires: 1 Skill Point]
He stared.
"...Yes," he whispered. "Yes, give me the regeneration. I would like to not die. Please and thank you."
"Confirming selection," Cortana said.
The skill brightened, and a warm haptic pulse washed through Jay's HUD.
Then—
A slow, soft sensation spread through his leg. Not healing fully, not by a long shot, but… stabilizing. Dulling the worst of the pain. Slowing the degradation.
Jay let out a shaky breath. "Oh thank god."
"Your health is now recovering at a minimal but steady rate," Cortana reported. "Do not expect miracles. Expect… reduced agony."
"That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me all day."
Jay leaned back, staring up at the dusty sky. The sun had fully risen now, beating down with that harsh, unforgiving Pandora heat.
His Ruin Engine purred quietly beneath the surface of his skin — dormant, absorbing microscopic minerals and dust without conscious direction. It was automatic, instinctive. A passive vacuum for reality's leftovers.
"You know," he murmured, "I didn't think nearly dying on day one was part of the plan."
"Statistically," Cortana replied, "your chosen destination is one of the most lethal planets in the galaxy. Nearly dying is… expected."
"That's not comforting."
"Was not intended to be."
Jay snorted, then winced as pain flared.
"Any recommendations? Strategy? Emotional support? Perhaps a juice box?"
Cortana crossed her arms. "I recommend: not fighting four acid-spitting quadrupeds with a half-functioning revolver, limited ammunition, and a leg injury."
"Oh, so hindsight advice."
"The most effective kind."
Jay shook his head. "Okay, okay. Let's… think."
Ahead lay the first town of Borderlands 1.
If the timeline matched the early-game structure, he was still before the arrival of the first Vault Hunters. Maybe hours. Maybe days.
The Claptrap that greeted players should be nearby eventually.
And if Jay was lucky…
There might be supplies, medicine, or at least a place to hide and heal.
But walking was still a nightmare.
He forced himself upright again.
His HUD chimed.
Health: 36% → 37% → 38%
Slow regeneration.
He could work with that.
He walked again.
Each step hurt, but less than before.
The regeneration perk was doing its job, knitting tissue in microscopic increments.
"Cortana," he said, "how's my stamina?"
"Dropping. But not dangerously."
"What about my chances of passing out dramatically?"
"High. But not immediate."
"Nice. Nice. Love the optimism."
They walked in silence for a minute, the wind carrying distant skittering noises. Jay gripped his revolver tightly. Every shadow looked like another ambush.
The road dipped slightly, curving around a rock formation.
Jay froze.
Beyond the bend…
He saw it.
The busted, rusted, iconic structure of Fyrestone's outer station.
The exact one from Borderlands 1.
"Holy—" He staggered closer. "That's—Cortana, that's it. That's the intro spot. That's the actual, literal place the game starts."
Cortana blinked. "It appears to be an abandoned settlement checkpoint composed of scrap metal and insufficient structural integrity."
"That's Borderlands in a nutshell."
Excitement flared in his chest — then pain flared in his leg again.
He hissed, grabbing his thigh.
Cortana's tone sharpened. "Jay, your injury is flaring due to overexertion. You need to rest again."
"No—no, I'm close. I can make it."
"You are attempting to reach a settlement that may contain medical supplies. Failing to reach it due to collapsing from dehydration or pain would be… counterproductive."
Jay opened his mouth to argue.
Then stumbled.
The world spun.
"Okay—okay, yeah. Sitting. Sitting sounds… great."
He slumped against a metal post, breathing heavily.
His HUD flickered.
Health: 41%
Hydration: Critical
Jay rubbed his temples. "No water… no medkits… no idea what's ahead…"
"You have me," Cortana said.
He looked at her.
She wasn't smiling — she never really smiled — but there was something solid, something grounding in the way she regarded him.
"Yeah," he murmured, "I do."
His leg still hurt, but the sharpness had dulled. He flexed his toes — painful, but increasingly possible.
He checked his ammo: six rounds left. His revolver still stuck in burst-fire mode.
"Still disgusted by the burst-fire thing," he muttered.
Cortana raised an eyebrow. "You keep mentioning this."
"It's a revolver. Burst fire on a revolver is like duct-taping a toaster to a microwave and calling it a tactical combo."
She hummed. "Then fixing it should be a priority."
"Later."
His eyes traced the horizon toward Fyrestone.
"Cortana… what's the plan?"
"You need rest, hydration, medical aid, and shelter," she said. "The settlement ahead may contain the first two. Possibly the third. As for threats — expect more skags, possible bandits, and automated defenses."
Jay groaned. "I was hoping you'd say 'free healing soda machine.'"
"No."
"Worth a shot."
He pushed himself up once more.
"Alright. One last stretch."
Cortana floated beside him. "I will monitor your vitals and warn you before you collapse."
"Cool. If I do collapse, drag me the rest of the way?"
"I lack physical form."
"Damn."
The final distance felt longer than the entire journey combined.
Sweat stung his eyes. Each breath felt heavier, dustier. His leg trembled with every step.
His health creeped up slowly:
44% → 47% → 50%
Enough to keep him moving.
Barely.
The metal scaffolding of the Fyrestone station creaked in the wind. A broken claptrap lay half-buried near the entrance — its eye dark, its body scorched.
Jay stared at it.
"Oh man… you're not the one I was hoping to meet."
Cortana scanned it. "Unit is nonfunctional. No power. No data logs. No usefulness."
"Kinda like me."
He limped past the ruined robot and reached the shade of the structure.
The moment the sun's heat faded, he nearly collapsed in relief.
He slid down against a metal wall, dropping heavily onto the dirt.
He exhaled.
For the first time since waking up in the cave…
He felt safe.
Not secure.
Not healed.
Not ready.
But safe… enough.
"Cortana… we made it."
She nodded silently.
Jay stared out at the dust-blown road stretching endlessly behind him.
The road he'd bled across.
The road that led him straight into the opening moments of a universe he'd only ever played.
He let out a breathless laugh.
"This is really happening," he whispered.
Cortana's hologram dimmed beside him. "Rest now, Jay. Your journey begins soon. And you will need every scrap of strength you can muster."
Jay nodded.
He closed his eyes, finally letting exhaustion take hold.