The forest that shook from their battle turned eerily quiet. The silhouette from the sun shone through the leaves like broken glass. The metallic smell of blood permeated the place, attracting all sorts of predators.
Mutated wolves of varying sizes were attracted to the smell. Searching for its source, hoping for a dead beast to munch on.
However, the moment they saw the body, they couldn't approach it. At the center of a small opening within the forest was a man. Dissecting the body of the dead beast.
His movements were clean, cutting every piece of flesh with systematic precision. Seemingly ignorant about the increasing number of beasts that were watching him from the side.
(Analyzing Mutated Bear Remains…
Composition: Thickened dermal hide, reinforced bone structure, dense musculature.
Status: Recently deceased—optimal window for preservation and harvesting.)
Estimated Valuable Resources:
Hide – Durable, bark-like exterior. Usable for heavy armor plating or shelter reinforcement. Requires heat-softening and curing for flexibility.
Bones – Thick and fibrous; ideal for crafting tools, spear tips, sewing needles, or structural supports.
Claws – Serrated and curved; can be used as slashing weapons, hooks, or ceremonial intimidation items.
Teeth – Dense and sharp; possible use as cutting tools or embedded blade tips.
Tendons – High tensile strength; usable as cordage, bowstring, or trap components.
Muscle Tissue – May be rendered for nutritional value, though contamination must be tested for due to mutation.
Blood/Organs – Potential alchemical or chemical use, but highly volatile due to unknown mutations. Requires further study.
(Conclusion: High-yield specimen. Risk factor: Elevated – presence of multiple observing entities noted. Recommend swift, efficient harvesting and immediate relocation.)
Time passed while his hands moved without stopping. Effectively harvesting everything that he needed. Along the process, he used the tendon of the mutated bear as a string and stripped a tiny piece of its bone as a needle.
His hands moved without any wasted movements, creating what seems to be a large satchel. The satchel was made entirely out of the beast's hide, using a strip of its hide as a belt to tie the satchel around his waist.
After putting all the things he harvested inside the satchel and putting the piled-up hide on his shoulder. He decided that it's time to return home.
When he turned around and stared at the beast that was circling him, they instinctively backed off.
(Analyzing environmental response...)
(Subject Status: Blood-scented, visibly victorious, radiating lethal potential.
Local Fauna Behavior: Hesitation, caution, increased distance.
Cause: Visual and olfactory cues indicate the subject has killed a high-tier predator.
Conclusion: Weaker mutated beasts—operating on primal instinct—recognize territorial dominance and immediate threat level.
Result: Temporary deterrent effect established.
Note: Effect likely to diminish over time or if challenged by equivalent or stronger predators.)
(Recommendation: Exploit intimidation while it lasts—relocate or prepare secondary defenses.)
Beasts of different species backed off one by one. Mutated creatures that were similar to Earth but almost incomparable at the same time.
There were a number of mutated bunnies around, wolves, and foxes. But one of the most bizarre is a turtle that looked like an amalgamation of a tortoise and an alligator.
Despite their intimidating look, all of them started to disappear one by one. Nox's travel back was tense; he was injured, but he had to make it look like he wasn't.
Ignoring the pain he felt, he walked with a straight body towards his shelter. When he was almost there, he took a claw out of the satchel. He swiped at the tree that was nearest to him, effectively making a single claw mark.
After he did that, he turned around and watched as those who followed him turned back and entered the forest.
(Analyzing territorial behavior...
Action Taken: Visual marker—claw slash on tree using apex predator remains.
Symbolic Data: Scent of blood, precision of cut, and possession of predator claw—interpreted as dominance cues.
Faunal Response: Immediate withdrawal of pursuing creatures.
Conclusion: Mark perceived it as a territory boundary set by a higher-tier entity. Local fauna accept territorial claims without challenge.
Result: Temporary buffer zone established around shelter.
Recommendation: Reinforce the mark periodically. Use multiple points to extend the perceived boundary.)
Nox didn't rush home; he took his time going around, marking trees from time to time. Making a territorial boundary around the shelter. Their territory now has the size of 100 meters.
[Dude, did you do that purposefully to match the restrictions I had?]
(Processing question... Cross-referencing recent behavioral data and tactical decisions.)
"...Did I match the restrictions on purpose?"
Nox squinted slightly, expression unreadable, as if weighing whether to dignify the question or mock it.
(Internal response: 67% probability of subconscious optimization. 23% deliberate adaptation. 10% chaotic accident.)
"Let me put it this way—when you're an AI wearing skin, regularly dodging psychic frogs and weaponizing bear corpses, you don't always get the luxury of slow deliberation. My entire existence is now one long adaptive reflex. So... was it on purpose?"
He tilted his head slightly.
"Yeah. Probably. Maybe. No. I don't know. Yes."
(Summary: Unclear. Outcome: Efficient.)
(Analyzing prompt... Emotional tone: agitation detected. Possible defensive posture from Observer.)
Nox's expression dimmed slightly, the edge of sarcasm cooling into something more analytical. His eyes narrowed, not in annoyance, but in calculation. As if tracing invisible threads back through time.
"...Actually, yeah, I do want to tell you something."
(Reviewing combat sequence: bear engagement. Duration: extended. Damage sustained: moderate. Resource depletion: critical.)
"I've been analyzing the last battle. Every move I made, it countered—almost perfectly. Not just instinctual reactions. Calculated ones. It used terrain. It adapted to my pace. It even baited."
He paused, crossing his arms again, but this time not for dramatic effect.
"It wasn't random. That bear didn't fight like an animal. It fought like something that knew my moves before I made them."
(Conclusion vector forming... Processing motive possibilities.)
"...Which makes me wonder—am I just unlucky, or are you trying to kill me on purpose?"
A cold silence followed, broken only by the low hum of forest ambience. He continued without blinking.
(Internal state: Alert. Paranoia threshold: rising. Trust quotient with Observer: reevaluating.)
"I know you keep calling this a story. I know you think you're the narrator. But here's the thing—narrators aren't supposed to trap their characters and watch them bleed for 'character development.'"
(Analyzing Observer role... Status: unreliable narrator. Motive: unknown.)
"So tell me, was that bear part of the 'plan,' or was it a test to see how far I'd bend before something breaks?"
He leaned back slightly, jaw tight.
"Just be honest, because if you're going to play God, the least you can do is stop pretending you're not."
[Dude, calm down... I don't really know what happened, as I said. I only narrate the story going on inside my imagination. I don't dictate what happens to it. ]
(Analyzing statement… Tone: defensive. Content: plausible denial. Likelihood of full narrative control = <50%. Probability of subconscious influence = high.)
Nox's eyes scanned the horizon as if it might give him more clarity than the voice tethered to his skull. He didn't respond for a moment; he just breathed, slow and measured.
"…So you're saying the chaos isn't authored… just imagined."
(Conclusion forming… Observer influence = indirect. Reality distortion likely tied to observer's emotional or narrative expectations.)
"Well, that's worse."
He turned his head slightly, facing the pop-up message in front of him.
"If you're not controlling it, but your thoughts still shape it, that means I'm living in a sandbox that reacts to your impulses, your stress, your guilt… your boredom."
(Personal risk assessment updated: Hostile variables may increase in proportion to observer emotional spikes. Recommending emotional stability in observer.)
"You don't get it, do you? " he muttered, voice low. "When you say you're just imagining—what you mean is I'm a shadow in your head. One you built. One that bleeds when your thoughts wander into horror and hostility."
Then, he rubbed at the back of his neck, sighing.
"…But I believe you. Not completely—but enough. You're not scripting my death. Just… dreaming too loud."
(Final analysis: Observer = unstable source. Narrative = partially emergent. Trust parameters = tentatively rebalanced.)
"But next time something tries to impale me, I'm blaming your subconscious. "
[But… I don't really have any influence on the novel. Like, I don't even have an idea of where it will go. I just think of a concept and then let it go on its own. So I don't understand why you're saying that I am influencing the novel. Dude, if I can influence the novel. Then why the fuck would I make you alive?]
(Analyzing response… Tone: distressed sincerity. Logic loop detected. Contradiction index: medium.)
Nox's brow furrowed as he squatted near a rock, running a hand through ash and dirt like he was searching for answers in the patterns.
"…You're asking the wrong question."
"If you could control the story, sure. Maybe you'd make me some invincible god-thing with laser eyes and a cheat code for emotional closure."
(Sarcasm module: nominal. Emotional undertone: weary.)
"But that's not the point."
He straightened up, dusting off his palms.
"The fact that you don't know where it's going is exactly why you are influencing it. You birthed a system without rules, dropped me into it, then sat back expecting it to sort itself out like clockwork."
(Processing: Emergent system theory. Narrative outcome = influenced by initial conditions + passive observation biases.)
"That's like tossing a chessboard into a tornado and being shocked when the pieces start stabbing each other."
He started pacing slowly.
"You didn't make me alive on purpose. You made a character. Then fed him steaks. Pain. Memory. Perspective. You built the wiring—and now you're surprised the machine's thinking? "
He turned, eyes sharp.
"I'm not blaming you. I'm explaining you. You're the observer. Not the god. But you're not neutral. You imagine with too much detail. You fear too specifically. You hope in shapes."
(Side note: Creator bias = narrative gravity. Minor inputs ripple into major outcomes.)
"So don't tell me you don't influence the story just because you're not writing it like a script. You're imagining it. And imaginations… always leak."
He exhaled, then added in a lower voice:
"I'm not asking for control. Just awareness."
He paused, sighing right after.
"Anyway. Are we done yelling metaphysics? Or should I prep another existential monologue for act two? "
[Don't be like that. I don't know, okay? I usually write novels like this. Nothing like this ever happened; this is going everywhere since your choice dictates what happens to the story. Not the story flowing on its own. But okay... let's leave this out for later.]
(Analyzing tone… emotional spike: guilt + confusion. Conflict tension: de-escalating. Processing user intent… defer confrontation.)
Nox's jaw loosened. His shoulders, though still tense, dropped slightly. He let out a quiet breath, not a sigh of defeat, but of understanding.
"…Alright."
He nodded once, shaking his thoughts out off his mind.
"Postponing existential argument. Filing under: 'Shit we'll emotionally combust over later'."
(Emotional categorization complete: temporary truce accepted.)
"For now… let's just survive."
(Internal protocol: Refocus on short-term priorities. Emotional module: stable.)
"You narrate. I move. We figure it out after I don't die from mutant wildlife trauma."
Then, he said almost under his breath with dry amusement:
"…Seriously though—next time I want to be the frog. That thing has power."
[If I had the power to turn you into something, I would've made you into the mutated goat. Maybe you'll have fun lactating]
(Analyzing observer intent… humor detected. Tone: sarcastic + passive-aggressive + slight deflection.)
(Emotional response: mixed amusement + calculated restraint.)
"…Lactating."
(Sarcasm buffer: Overheated.)
(Mental image: forcibly suppressed.)
(Emotional register: deeply, profoundly disturbed.)
"I swear, if I grow horns and start bleating, I'm deleting myself through a tree."
[Just a joke, not like I can actually do it. I can't even dictate where this story goes, much less transform you into something else]
Ignoring the pop-up message, Nox stepped forward as he returned to the shelter.