When I opened my eyes, the sun was long gone.
Darkness had swallowed everything.
For a moment, I didn't move. I just lay there, listening. The steady rush of the river behind me was the only thing anchoring me to reality.
I forced myself up.
My legs trembled as I took a few unsteady steps before stopping short—something solid blocked my path. A tree. I reached out, fingers brushing against rough bark, then slowly lowered myself, resting my back against it.
Only then did I allow my thoughts to catch up.
Everything that had just happened replayed in fragments—mud, bloodlust, the river, that suffocating darkness beneath the water.
And somehow…
I was still alive.
A weak breath escaped me, something between a laugh and disbelief.
Suppressing my energy—that had been the key.
Well… that, and nearly killing myself in the process.
I tilted my head back against the tree and stared into the void above. No stars. No moon. Just endless black.
Now what?
Moving in this darkness, with no sense of direction, would only waste what little strength I had left. Even ignoring the dryness clawing at my throat and the hollow ache in my stomach, my body was in no condition to keep going.
It felt… wrong.
As if I was both fine and on the verge of breaking apart at the same time.
I needed more energy—needed to keep more of it within me instead of forcing it into that strange, distant realm.
But I didn't know how much I could suppress without giving myself away again.
That uncertainty alone was enough to stop me.
For now.
A cold shiver ran through me. It wasn't freezing, not truly—but in my current state, it cut deeper than it should have.
Fire.
The thought came naturally.
A terrible idea. Light meant visibility. Visibility meant attention.
But exhaustion dulled caution.
I didn't care.
Before I had passed out earlier, I'd noticed something—clusters of bamboo leaning out over the river near the bank where I'd washed ashore.
Water.
I needed water first.
Pushing myself up with a quiet groan, I moved toward where I remembered seeing them. Each step felt heavier than the last, the darkness forcing me to rely on memory and touch more than sight.
Eventually, my hands brushed against smooth, hollow stalks.
Bamboo.
I pulled the small knife from my belt, the metal cold against my fingers, and began cutting. Each motion drained me further, my arms growing heavier with every strike.
After what felt like far too long, I managed to cut two sealed segments free.
That alone nearly dropped me to my knees.
Breathing hard, I forced myself to keep going. Using the knife, I punctured small holes, then submerged the hollow sections into the river, holding them under until they filled.
Water sloshed inside.
Good enough.
I sealed the openings as best as I could using strips carved from the bamboo itself—crude, but it would do.
Next…
Firewood.
I reached for the cigarette pack in my pocket out of habit, only to find it soaked through—mud and water had reduced it to useless pulp.
"…Of course."
With a tired exhale, I pulled out my lamp instead.
By some miracle, it still worked.
A faint glow flickered to life, pushing back the darkness just enough to see.
Using that small pocket of light, I gathered whatever I could find—dry twigs, broken branches, brittle leaves. Not much, but enough.
It took longer than it should have.
Everything did.
Eventually, I managed to coax a weak flame into existence. It sputtered at first, uncertain, then steadied as I fed it more.
The warmth that followed felt almost unreal.
I placed the bamboo containers near the fire, letting the water inside heat up.
Then, after a moment's hesitation, I stepped back toward the river.
The cold bit into me as I slipped in, but I endured it—washing away the mud, the filth, the lingering stench of everything I had just survived. My clothes clung heavily to my body as I wrung them out and hung them over a low branch near the fire.
When I finally sat back down, the warmth reached me slowly.
Piece by piece.
For the first time since it all began, I let my body relax.
My thoughts drifted.
Where was I?
That question lingered, heavy and unanswered.
And beyond that…
Were there others?
Survivors?
The idea felt distant. Uncertain. But it was something—something to hold onto.
Something to move toward.
My eyelids grew heavier.
The fire crackled softly beside me, its glow flickering against the darkness.
I meant to stay awake.
Just a little longer.
But without realizing it…
Sleep took me.