The footprints he found were human—the small footprints of a child.
"Humans?... On this planet?"
Back on Earth, scientists and the general public had tossed around countless theories about alien life. One fringe theory suggested that other humans might exist on distant planets, but it was the least believed of them all.
None of these theories were ever proven, but they were never entirely disproven either. Eventually, most scientists just dismissed them.
Adam stood up and began to follow the trail. But after just a few steps out of the bushes, the footprints vanished.
Adam scanned the area, his eyes sweeping everywhere. He continued in the direction the tracks had been heading before they stopped, but he found nothing.
He pulled himself together, muttering under his breath:
"He got away."
"He's probably gone to get his people now."
Adam wasn't trying to catch up to this human for a happy reunion. He wanted to intercept him, to figure out his intentions before he could alert his tribe. If the kid meant harm, Adam would have had to kill him. But he had escaped.
Humans in a place this isolated and full of predators would almost certainly be primitive. And primitive humans were sometimes... cannibals.
He had originally moved away from the predator-infested zone to avoid becoming prey in his weakened state. His plan was to put as much distance as he could between them, find a place to hide, and scrounge for something edible to regain his strength.
But it seemed he had escaped one hunting ground only to stumble into another. He'd just traded a zone of alien predators for the hunting grounds of savage humans. His luck had truly hit rock bottom.
"I need to put more distance between us, now."
Adam had experience with savage humans from his time on Earth. He'd been to places inhabited by primitive tribes. And once... they had captured him when he was exhausted and vulnerable.
He had endured painful, terrible days as part of their permanent meat supply. Then, on the night of a loud, raucous celebration, they had finally passed out. He managed to free himself and escape. He spent agonizing nights fleeing from both them and the local predators.
Adam had no desire to relive an experience like that. But the current situation felt eerily similar.
He was left with two choices: stay and confront his enemies, or run and put as much space between them as possible.
Adam decided to run. He was at his weakest, and he knew nothing about this terrain. His enemies, on the other hand, were likely strong, healthy, and definitely knew the area like the back of their hand.
Adam went back to the river. On his way, he found a long stick and took it with him. He decided to follow the river's course. He wanted to get as far away as possible, but without losing his only source of water. Following the river was a solid plan; it would keep him from getting lost, and it might lead him in a promising direction. Plus, thanks to the transparent diamond stones, he wouldn't leave any footprints behind. That would make tracking him a lot harder.
***
Adam moved away from the spot where he'd been discovered, but he didn't go far. His body still hadn't recovered from the exhaustion and the strain of the multiple, painful regenerations.
A few hours passed, and the sky was slowly turning black. Night would fall very soon.
"I think I've put enough distance between us for now."
"I can't risk a fire tonight."
As Adam walked across the diamond-strewn ground, he spotted a small depression in front of a thicket of bushes.
He approached the hollow. It was very small. He looked at the pit, then back in the direction he had come from, his hand thoughtfully on his chin. He was considering something.
A few seconds passed before he knelt in front of the depression and started digging to widen it, piling the damp soil neatly beside the hole. When he was done, he went to the farthest cluster of shrubs, tore out several large handfuls, and brought them back to the site.
He enlarged the hollow to the length of his body lying down. He arranged the damp soil evenly along the edge of the pit, and next to it, he placed the shrubs he had uprooted.
Adam packed the damp soil over his face and hair, completely covering his distinctive white color. He then lay down in the trench, placing his stick beside him inside it. Carefully, he spread the remaining soil evenly over his entire body to conceal himself. Finally, he arranged the shrubs over the dirt, hiding it completely. He left his already soil-covered face out of the trench but placed one last shrub over it as a final screen.
Time flew, and night fell, plunging everything into darkness. Then, the trees began to glow with their beautiful, lazuli light, which spilled onto the diamond stones, creating a breathtaking scene.
Some of the stones emitted a cold, white shimmer, veined with delicate, swimming threads of blue.
Others gave off a sky-blue glow, reminiscent of the gleam of ice at dawn.
Yet others flashed with soft pulses of violet and turquoise, as if sending up tiny, colored sparks.
They were surrounded by a soft, bluish halo, making it seem not like a mere reflection, but an actual radiance. It was as if the diamonds were generating light from within, making them seem alive, pulsing with azure life. They weren't just stones reflecting light, but tiny beings of light—a fusion of the purity of snow and the brilliance of the sky, like a piece of frozen dawn captured in a crystal.
Adam could see the scene perfectly clearly, but he was unmoved by its beauty. He only managed a pained, bitter smile.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching cut through the silence. Hearing them, Adam froze in place, his eyes snapping toward the direction of the noise. It was already dangerously close. With each step, the footfalls grew heavier and heavier.
Then, the owner of the footsteps stopped right next to the bushes hiding Adam. Adam held his breath completely. He was staring at its feet, unable to see anything else clearly through the shrubs covering him.
These were definitely not human feet.
They were a pair of demonic, white-furred feet with grayish hair and four sharp, black claws. They were positioned right beside the bushes.
The creature's breathing was loud, but then it stopped, replaced by a series of clicking sounds. Every single click sent a shiver right down Adam's spine. Then, the sound stopped.
The creature backed away and moved off from the bushes. Adam felt a sliver of relief and finally drew a breath.
But he was cut off by the sound of clicking from a similar creature approaching from the other direction.
It came dangerously close to Adam. It seemed this creature didn't intend to stop and turn away like the first one had.
Sure enough, the beast stepped directly onto Adam's foot, which was covered in soil, and crushed it completely. A sharp hiss of air escaped Adam's lips. The creature's clicking stopped abruptly.
Adam looked up. Two pitch-black eyes, gleaming in the lazuli light, were staring intently at his hiding spot.
They drew closer, slowly. The creature pushed its face through the shrubs, inching nearer and nearer to where Adam's face was concealed.
Suddenly, there was nothing left between Adam's face and the monster's. It was a face of two black eyes with a slit between them instead of a nose, long front fangs, and large, pointed ears.
The clicking returned for a few seconds. Then, the beast opened its massive maw, revealing a horrifying array of fangs. It drew in a deep breath, as if preparing to let out a cry—a triumphant roar to announce it had found weak prey, a source of endless, regenerating meat.
At least, that's what Adam believed it was thinking.
But before it could begin, a shriek from another creature, some distance from the hiding place, cut through the air. The cry continued.
It was a terrifying scream, one that nearly deafened Adam even from afar. It carried strange trills and vibrations, as if the beast was singing its threat.
The monster above Adam snapped its head swiftly toward the source of the scream. It then pulled back and immediately launched itself toward the sound.
Adam slowly drew a breath, stifling his groans of pain. There might still be another one of them nearby.