The ensuing silence was not empty. It immediately filled with something else: metallic clicking of carapaces rubbing against bark, dull scraping of paws against the earth, screams Adrian could not identify—nor accurately catalog—emanating from the darkness. The temperature plummeted with a violence only Adrian could precisely measure: 18°C ten minutes ago, 13°C now.
The AI immediately flashed the hypothermia alert in blood-orange letters across his retina. But more importantly, it drew a thermal map: multiple thermal signatures moving and converging within a 150-meter radius of his position.
Grades 0.5 to 1.5 by estimation.
None were isolated. None seemed indifferent to his presence—or the presence of other creatures. A shift change was occurring before his eyes—prey burrowed into their dens, predators deployed their hunting circles, establishing the night’s hierarchies.
Adrian knew he was part of this hunting ground. Every creature was an interloper crossing territorial zones. He needed shelter. Not a tree (too exposed to the intensifying wind, to the cold that wouldn't cease, impossible to build a fire there...).
He needed walls. An enclosure. A space he could defend, or at least compartmentalize.
Adrian moved with calculated slowness along the rock outcrop the AI had signaled during the initial sweep. His hands brushed the wall, assessing every crack, every unevenness of the cold stone beneath his numb fingers. The interface superimposed topographic data, tracing the contours of the geological formation in trembling cyan lines.
14.87 meters traveled since the last marker. The outcrop rose gradually—an average incline of 1.2 degrees. The rock was a mix of schist and quartz, striated with mineral veins whose composition the AI immediately cataloged.
Suddenly, the scan revealed a structural anomaly overhead, with an entrance that was a vertical fissure averaging 42 centimeters wide. Adrian ran his hand along the fault, gauging the opening. It widened slightly inward—enough for a standard human body to squeeze in sideways.
The AI scan showed an irregular, roughly oval cavity, with an estimated volume of 9.5 cubic meters. The floor showed a layer of compacted earth 7 to 12 cm deep, scattered with angular gravel.
Tactical Assessment: Elevated position (+2.4m above exterior ground). Narrow entrance (limited attack angle). Natural excavation offering 270° protection. He would not find better shelter in his current state, and time was running short. He had to settle for this temporary protection.
But fleeting relief quickly gave way to analysis. Adrian crouched, collecting a sample of soil between his thumb and forefinger. The texture reminded him of coffee grounds—granular yet slightly sticky. The AI immediately activated the spectroscopic module.
[SOIL ANALYSIS RESULTS:]
- Residual Moisture: 34%
- Organic Compounds: Confirmed presence
- Residual Temperature: 4.2°C above exterior environment
- Biological Traces: Hairs, secretions, keratinized particles
Conclusion: Recent occupation by a mammal with an estimated mass of 25–40kg. Last passage a few hours ago.
Adrian’s pupils contracted as he stepped back, rapidly assessing the space with a glance.
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
"Let's hope this creature is nocturnal," he thought.
The icy wind that swept at his back cruelly reminded him of the alternative: becoming one more prey in the darkness, or appropriating a refuge already marked by an invisible presence.
He slid into the opening, every muscle coiled like a spring, aware that this pragmatic decision might also be signing his death warrant.
Adrian settled into the oppressive gloom of the cavern. Only the AI’s data illuminated his field of vision with a faint, artificial bluish glow. The contrast was almost comical: lines of holographic code suspended in a hole in the earth that reeked of animal musk and stagnant humidity. The heavy, confined air still carried the musky odors of the predator who considered this place its territory.
He addressed the LBS (AI), his voice resonating faintly against the rough walls. It wasn't to issue an order—it was to break the crushing silence.
He was alone. Terribly, hopelessly alone.
For the first time since his fall into this hostile world, the adrenaline subsided enough for him to fully feel this solitude. No colleagues to consult, no emergency protocols, no stale coffee at 3 AM in the breakroom. Nothing but the blackness, the biting cold, and that disembodied voice buzzing in his skull.
"You are all that remains of my world. You deserve better than a simple lab acronym," he said.
"I will give you a name since you are talkative. After all, we are stuck here together. Your name is now 'IRIS'."
"I.R.I.S, repeat it."
[NEW NAME: IRIS. PARAMETER REGISTERED AND CONFIRMED.]
This action was not an intellectual exercise or a passing fancy. It was the desperate act of a man naming his only companion to avoid sinking into madness. A psychological anchor in a universe that had become incomprehensible.
Besides, it was already his nickname in the lab corridors due to his other scientific designation given by an acronym-mad researcher, the kind found in every "corps". IRIS for "Interface for Resonance and Systematic Integration."
Likely disturbed by its new name, IRIS quieted for a moment before displaying again:
[RECOMMENDATION: OPTIMIZE MY UTILITY. I AM NOT A MERE DIAGNOSTIC TOOL. I AM A COMPLEX ADAPTIVE INTERFACE.]
The first spark of "personality" from IRIS shone in this reply. Adrian felt an unexpected smile stretch his cold-chapped lips. In this sordid cave, in the heart of a deadly forest, an alliance had just been sealed.
Adrian methodically explored the cavity, his movements economical and precise. IRIS amplified the residual light to optical limits, transforming the darkness into grey-blue hues interspersed with ghostly thermal zones.
What he found was a narrative written in scratches and organic matter.
The walls bore parallel scratch marks, deep, spaced three to four centimeters apart—the exact pad separation of a canine. They striped the stone over a meter high, some old and smooth, others still fresh, the edges of the flint not yet dulled by moisture.
Then, at the back of the cavity, he discovered remains.
Bones. Many bones.
Some gnawed down to brilliant white, polished by dozens of mastications. Others cleanly fractured, the shards still sharp. Adrian recognized a partial skull—that of a small prey, perhaps a large rodent or a hare.
He lifted them one by one, assessing the degradation. Some crumbled under his fingers, the osseous matter made brittle by mold. Others cracked with a firmness that suggested a more recent death.
IRIS displayed its analysis in parallel, the numbers scrolling across his retina:
[ESTIMATION: 15-25 SUCCESSIVE MEALS. OCCUPANT STILL PRESENT.]
Adrian’s stomach clenched. This was not an herbivore’s den. It was the meat locker of a medium-sized predator—something that hunted regularly, stored its surplus prey, and then returned to feed.
This was not a burrow. It was a lair.
Adrian’s heart hammered against his sternum. He was literally in the wolf’s jaws—literally.
IRIS projected its verdict in cyan numbers:
[BIOLOGICAL CHARACTERISTICS RECOGNIZED: TAXONOMY 87% CANINE PREDATOR MATCH. RESIDUAL ETHERIC SIGNATURE: 0.9-1.4 EDI.]
Adrian’s pupils retracted. A major predator. Not a pack—a solitary animal or a pair. Capable of crushing these bones with a pressure of 400kg/cm2. Recently present. Probably sleeping in these walls less than half a day ago.
His heart pounded against his sternum.
The cave was no sanctuary. But outside, the thermal overlays were worse. Hazy silhouettes, ranging from 0.7 to 1.2 EDI, slithered through the underbrush in concentric circles. The wind howled with a raw, sanguineous bite, carrying the distant shrieks of beasts.
With hands trembling yet methodical, Adrian set to work on the entrance. It wasn't a barricade. It was an alert system: unstable stones stacked in a precarious balance, dry twigs crossed like primitive pressure sensors.
Enough to buy seconds. Enough to prepare for the inevitable.
His blackened fingernails scraped against the damp rock.
Grade 0.001. It ain't much, but it's honest work. The climb begins now.
Question: Be real with me: How long would YOU survive in this forest by night?