They began harvesting what they could from the carcasses—fangs, claws, the strange metallic plates. Each piece represented potential, resources to transform into protection or weapons. Kyle's fingers worked with surprising dexterity, separating useful components from flesh that had already begun to decompose in the relentless heat.

  "The plates are flexible at the edges," Kyle noted, working one free from the dog-beast's hide. "But solid in the center. Could make decent armor if we figure out how to connect them."

  Marcus examined a fang he'd pried loose, testing its weight in his palm. "Sharp as hell. Better than any knife I had back home."

  "We'll need to cure these if we want them to last," Kyle said, the knowledge surfacing in his mind as if he'd always known it. "Otherwise they'll rot, become brittle.

  Dex was already sorting their findings into piles, his methodical approach revealing the strategic mind that had made him effective on the streets. "So what's next?" he asked, looking to Kyle with unexpected deference.

  The question caught Kyle off guard. Back in the Five-Eight, Dex had always been the one with the answers, the one who called the shots. This shift in dynamics felt significant—a recognition that different skills mattered here.

  "We need to find a better position," Kyle said after a moment's consideration. "Like Marcus said, higher ground would give us advantages. We should move before it gets dark."

  They gathered their makeshift weapons and salvaged materials, extinguishing the fire with dirt and water. Kyle felt a reluctance to leave the relative safety of the clearing—they'd established a foothold here, marking it with their victory over the dog-beasts. But staying meant inviting scavengers, both for the remaining carcasses and potentially themselves.

  Kyle took point as they moved deeper into the jungle, his newly enhanced tracking skills allowing him to identify clear paths among the tangled flora. He kept them near the stream, following its winding course as it gradually ascended.

  The terrain changed subtly as they progressed. The ground became rockier, the jungle less dense. Small clearings appeared more frequently, offering brief respites from the claustrophobic press of foliage. Through gaps in the canopy, Kyle caught glimpses of distant elevations—hills or perhaps mountains that broke the otherwise endless sea of vegetation.

  "There," he said finally, pointing toward a rocky outcropping that rose from the jungle floor like an island in a green ocean. The formation created a natural shelter on one side, while the stream curved around its base. Most importantly, it offered visibility in nearly all directions—they would see threats coming.

  They climbed carefully, testing each handhold before committing their weight. The ascent wasn't difficult, just unfamiliar. The stone felt warm beneath Kyle's palms, heated by the strange blue sun that now hung lower in the sky.

  From the top of the outcropping, the jungle stretched in all directions, a vast expanse of blue-tinged green to purple undulating like waves frozen in time. Kyle took a deep breath, the air slightly cooler at this elevation. For a moment, he allowed himself to appreciate the wild beauty of this place—so different from the concrete and asphalt that had defined his previous existence.

  Marcus was already circling the perimeter, eyes narrowed in assessment. "Good sight lines. One main approach. Defensible."

  Dex nodded, dropping their collected materials in a neat pile. "Better than sleeping on the ground with those things prowling around."

  They set to work immediately, gathering fallen branches and broad leaves from nearby trees. Kyle directed their efforts, applying his Survivor knowledge to create a simple but effective lean-to against the largest tree trunk. They wove smaller branches between larger supports, then layered leaves to create a waterproof barrier.

  The work proceeded with surprising efficiency, their movements becoming more coordinated as the structure took shape. Kyle noticed how quickly his companions adapted to new tasks—a testament to street-honed survival instincts transferring to this unfamiliar environment.

  Nightfall descended over the dense canopy, but not before they managed to create a functional campsite. They dug a shallow depression for the fire, lined it neatly with stones scavenged near the treeline, and coaxed a tiny flame to life with dried leaves and twigs. As it crackled, its light flickered against the thick trunks. Using rope they’d fashioned from twisted vines, they tied together flexible saplings for the frame of a lean-to, then spread broad leaves to keep out the rain. Their chosen perch on a natural ridge would allow them to spot threats from any direction..

  Kyle sat cross-legged near the fire, using a sharp stone to shape one of the fangs they'd harvested. The material resisted his efforts at first, but he discovered that applying pressure at certain angles yielded better results. Gradually, the fang transformed into something resembling a crude knife, its edge uneven but deadly.

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  "We should make more of these," he said, testing the blade against his thumb. A thin line of blood welled immediately—sharper than he'd expected.

  Kyle watched as Dex turned the spearhead over in his hands, examining the creation with obvious pride. The fang—one of the larger ones they'd collected—gleamed dangerously in the light, now transformed into a weapon with tree sap and cloth strips cut from Dex's shirt.

  "This is better than what we had before," Dex declared, his voice carrying a note of satisfaction.

  Kyle noticed a momentary change in Dex's expression—a slight pause, eyes going distant for just an instant.. A handful of small, white glowing motes appeared around Dex before disappearing into his body.

  “Holyshit did you get just something” kyle said in amusement

  “Yea some kind of crafting achievement i guess. It even named it Crude Fang Spear. Im guessing its nothing special but i got energy or whatever that is for it” Dex said with a genuine smile.

  "Everything counts here," Marcus added, his voice quiet but certain. "Every upgrade, every skill point, every level. It's all math when you think about it."

  Kyle nodded, understanding what Marcus meant. This place operated on rules—strange and often brutal, but rules nonetheless. And rules could be exploited, bent to advantage by those who understood them.

  "Speaking of upgrades," Kyle said, examining his hands in the firelight. "I've been thinking about these points we get when we level up. Where are you guys putting them?"

  Marcus leaned back against a tree trunk, his face half-hidden in shadow. "I spread my mostly evenly, but most in Intelligence, will, and agility."

  "I'm going all in on strength and dexterity and agility," Dex said without hesitation. "No point pretending I'm gonna outsmart this place."

  Kyle considered his own allocations—the intelligence boost that had changed how he perceived everything around him, the subsequent investments in resilience and vitality. Different approaches, but all valid in their way.

  "We need to be balanced," he suggested. "Cover each other's weaknesses. Back home, we each had our role. Same principle applies here."

  They fell into silence, the fire's quiet crackle filling the space between words. Around them, the jungle's nighttime chorus swelled—clicks and whistles and distant cries that sounded almost mournful. Kyle wondered what creatures made those sounds, whether they were predators or prey in this complex ecosystem.

  "I keep thinking about JT," Marcus said suddenly, his voice barely audible over the fire's snap. "What he would've made of all this."

  The name hit Kyle like a physical blow. They'd been so focused on immediate survival that the memory of their lost had been temporarily pushed aside. Now it returned with renewed force—the sound of that scream cutting through the jungle, the terrible knowledge that they'd left him behind. I left him behind

  "He would've adapted," Kyle said finally, the words feeling hollow even as he spoke them. "Like we're doing."

  Dex stared into the flames, his expression unreadable. "He wasn't fast enough. That's all."

  The bluntness might have seemed cruel to outsiders, but Kyle recognized it as Dex's way of processing loss. On the streets, sentimentality was a luxury they couldn't afford. Death happened. You acknowledged it, learned from it, moved on.

  "Think we'll find others?" Marcus asked after another lengthy silence. "I mean, human others."

  Kyle considered the question, recalling the humanoid corpses they'd discovered earlier. "We're not the first to end up here. Won't be the last either, I bet."

  "Alliance could be useful," Marcus continued, always the strategist. "More numbers, more skills."

  "Or more problems," Dex countered. "More mouths to feed, more people making noise, attracting attention."

  Kyle saw merit in both perspectives. The Five-Eight had taught them the value of numbers—a larger set meant more territory, more protection. But it also meant more complexity, more potential for conflict. Trust didn't come easily to boys who'd grown up learning that loyalty was rare and betrayal common.

  "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Kyle decided, returning his attention to the knife he was crafting. "For now, we focus on getting stronger, smarter. Making sure we can handle whatever this place throws at us next."

  The darkness deepened around their small circle of light, the jungle transforming into an impenetrable wall of shadow beyond the fire's reach. Kyle felt exhaustion settling into his muscles—a deep, bone-heavy weariness that came from continuous vigilance and exertion.

  "We should take watches, agaiin," he suggested, fighting back a yawn. "Four hours each. I'll go first."

  Neither Dex nor Marcus argued, another sign of the shifting dynamic between them. In this new world, their old hierarchies were being rewritten based on different criteria.

  As his companions settled into their makeshift shelter, Kyle remained by the fire, spear across his knees. The elevated position gave him a clear view of the surrounding jungle floor. Nothing could approach without crossing open ground first—a tactical advantage he appreciated more with each passing hour.

  His mind wandered as he maintained his vigil. What was this place? Some twisted afterlife? An elaborate simulation? Or something beyond his comprehension entirely? The character sheet floating in his consciousness suggested game-like mechanics, but the pain, the hunger, the fear—those felt undeniably real.

  Kyle absently rotated his healed ankle, marveling at how completely the wounds had closed. Another impossibility in a world full of them. He'd died on the streets of Harlem, felt bullets tearing through his flesh, tasted his own blood as darkness claimed him. Then he'd awakened here, whole but forever changed.

  The jungle whispered secrets he couldn't decipher, its constant motion a reminder that they existed in an ecosystem that had functioned long before their arrival and would continue long after they were gone—one way or another.

  Kyle fed another branch to the fire, watching flames consume it with hungry enthusiasm. Orange light pushed back against the pressing darkness, creating a temporary sanctuary that felt both fragile and significant. They'd carved out this small space, claimed it as their own through effort and will. It wasn't much, but it was a beginning.

  His thoughts circled back to Marcus's question about other humans. The possibility nagged at him like a loose tooth—painful to probe but impossible to ignore. If others like them existed here, what knowledge might they possess? What alliances could be formed? What threats might they pose?

  The night deepened around him, heavy with possibilities and dangers yet to be revealed. Kyle tightened his grip on his spear, eyes scanning the shadowed jungle below. They'd survived their first days in this world. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new opportunities to grow stronger.

  One day at a time. One skill at a time. One level at a time. The mantra settled into his mind, simple but powerful. That's how they'd survived so far, taking each day as it came, never looking too far ahead because the future was never guaranteed.

  Here, in this strange jungle under an new sky, the same philosophy applied. Survive today. Worry about tomorrow when it comes.

  The large moon rose higher, casting silver-blue light across the landscape. Kyle felt its cool radiance on his skin, so different from the harsh streetlights of home. Despite everything—the danger, the uncertainty, the loss—a strange feeling stirred in his chest.

  Not quite peace. Not quite acceptance. But something adjacent to both—a recognition that whatever this place was, whatever purpose it served, he would face it head-on. Not just survive it, but master it.