The cold set in fast.
At first, it was a relief—a stark contrast to the brutal, skin-searing heat of the day. But as the minutes passed, the temperature plummeted. The sand beneath him, once burning enough to blister his feet, turned frigid. A biting wind howled through the darkness, carrying grains of ice-like sand that scratched at his exposed skin.
He curled in on himself, buried in his shallow pit, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. His breath came in short, uneven puffs, visible in the freezing air.
And yet, despite the storm, despite the pain, he didn't dare move.
Because.
The Predator was still out there.
System Notification:
[Core Body Temperature Dropping – Risk of Hypothermia]
A shiver wracked his body, his muscles locking up. His limbs ached from the cold, but he forced himself to stay still. Moving could get me killed.
His shallow pit wasn't enough. It shielded him from the worst of the wind, but the cold burrowed into his bones. He needed insulation. A real shelter.
But the system had given him nothing yet.
Locked.
His jaw clenched. "Then unlockit," he whispered under his breath, barely making a sound.
System Response:
[Unlocking additional features requires progress.]
[Survival Probability: 2.3%]
That damn percentage again.
His fists clenched in the sand. Two percent. It was like the world itself had decided he wasn't meant to live.
No.
He wasn't going to let some arbitrary system decide his fate.
His mind raced.
Water Extraction had unlocked when his survival had reached a breaking point—when he had been on the verge of collapse from dehydration.
Maybe… maybe Shelter Mode would unlock if he pushed himself far enough.
The thought terrified him. It meant flirting with the edge of death just to make the system acknowledge his struggle.
But what choice did he have?
He forced his breathing to slow, even as the wind clawed at him, even as the Sand Dweller's unseen presence sent ice through his veins.
He needed to think.
Survival Priorities:
Don't die from exposure.
Don't alert the monster under the sand.
Unlock Shelter Mode.
His first instinct was to dig deeper, to bury himself entirely. The sand could act as insulation. But that risked shifting too much weight—and movement was the one thing he couldn't afford.
His second option? Finding another heat source. But the wasteland was barren—no vegetation, no firewood. And his body was already on the verge of shutting down.
Then…
His eyes flickered to the System Menu.
Maybe there was something there.
Slowly—so agonizingly slow he could feel the seconds drag—he blinked twice, calling up the interface.
[System Menu]
Water Extraction – Active
Basic Scan – Active
Shelter Mode – Locked
TerraformingRank – F (0%)
New Data: Machine Core Detected (Dormant)
He froze.
Machine Core?
What the hell was that?
His fingers twitched. He wanted to open the new notification, to see what the system meant. But he stopped himself.
Not now.
The Dormant Predator was still out there.
Even the faint movement of his eyelids was risky.
Seconds stretched into minutes. He forced himself to lie still, barely breathing, feeling the slow, rhythmic tremors in the sand.
It's waiting for me to move.
The realization made his blood run cold.
This thing wasn't just an animal. It wasn't just hunting by instinct.
He needed to outlast it.
His body screamed at him, exhaustion and pain settling deep into his bones.
He wasn't going to last much longer.
Something had to change.
System Notification:
[Shelter Mode – Unlocking Conditions Met]
His breath caught.
The screen shifted. A new function appeared, its edges pulsing faintly.
Shelter Mode Unlocked:
Basic Sand Brick Crafting (Requires Loose Sand & Pressure)
Temporary Insulation Upgrade Available
Relief hit him like a wave. He had done it.
His fingers twitched against the sand. He needed to move, needed to start crafting—but the Sand Dweller was still there.
For a long moment, he hesitated.
Then, he made a choice.
He was going to risk it.
He had to.
Moving as slowly as humanly possible, he shifted one hand into the loose sand beside him. His fingers curled, gathering a handful.
Nothing.
No movement from beneath.
Encouraged, he began pressing the grains together, following the new crafting instructions that had appeared. Sand Bricks required two things: pressure and stability.
He worked methodically, barely moving his arms, using the weight of his own body to compress the sand into rough, solid chunks.
One brick. Then another.
He stacked them, reinforcing the sides of his pit, creating a true enclosure.
Minutes passed.
The Dormant Predator didn't attack.
By the time he had formed a full barrier around himself, the wind had grown even stronger.
The creature must have sensed the storm worsening because—
The vibrations in the sand began to fade.
It was leaving.
A long, slow breath escaped his lips.
The beast had finally given up.
He slumped against the rough walls of his new shelter, exhaustion swallowing him whole. His body ached, but for the first time since waking in this nightmare, he felt… safe.
Not comfortable. Not secure.
But safe.
The cold still clawed at him, but the insulation upgrade had begun to take effect. The bricks radiated a faint warmth, keeping the worst of the frostbite at bay.
His breathing slowed.
For the first time since arriving in this wasteland, he allowed his eyes to drift shut.
[You survived the first night.]