"I miss you, Mom," I murmured as I stared up at the cave ceiling.
Every delicious meal, every warm hug, and every encouraging word... you don't appreciate those things until you lose them.
Would my family be okay? How much time had passed on Earth?
I had no way of knowing. I didn't even know how much time had passed since I was thrown headlong into that deserted wasteland.
All I could hope for was that they were safe and sound.
I, on the other hand, was owner to the most monotonous routine in existence.
During the day? Too hot to move., so I stayed in the cave.
Sip yellow elixir.
Rest.
Sip again.
Repeat.
I discovered that the yellow elixir served both to hydrate me and to satisfy my hunger, although after what I personally believe was two months, the taste and texture began to tire me out.
I had no choice. It was that or dying, and I had decided to try and not die.
At night, I went outside to absorb energy like snorting cocaine, and I exercised. Of course, there wasn't a night that went by that I didn't try to hit the rock and explode it with my marvelous strength.
I broke my hands more times than I can count. But it was the only thing keeping me sane.
Or at least, convincing me I was.
You might be thinking, “you’re a fucking lunatic.”
And you wouldn’t be wrong.
But try surviving alone in an alien wasteland, drinking what could very much be extraterrestrial sperm oozing from the ground like a perverted geyser, then spending your nights letting what may or may not be a glowing parasite crawl into your body and make you feel sensations that would put an erotic novel to shame.
But all that effort was worth it.
After three months, I think, of hard training, I was able to break the stone. My fingers were broken too, but let's focus on the important thing. I broke the stone! In two. Not into a thousand pieces, but in two. Nevertheless, it was a huge step forward.
I grinned like an idiot. I even flexed at the rock shards, whispering, you never stood a chance.
"Mom, Dad, dear sister, wherever you are, I want you to know that I've done it. I've defeated my first archenemy. I've done what I haven't done in nineteen years: I trained. I wish... I wish I were with you to show you..."
The feeling didn’t last.
It evaporated the moment I thought about them.
I wanted a hug from Mom, the kind that made me forget exams, heartbreak, and flu season. A stupid joke from Dad, congratulating me. Or a look from my sister that said "Wow. You actually did something."
But I had none of that. Just silence, and the ache of a celebration with no one to share it with.
Several months passed like that. Time seemed relative. Not in the Einstein way, more like, ‘has it been a week or a year?’ kind of way.
I maintained some sanity, I hope, by repeating that routine until I was exhausted. In fact, I reached a point where I no longer felt tired. Or sleepy. Or even human, probably.
One day, I decided to step outside the cave under the light of the twin suns. To my surprise, the heat was like... some tropical country in the middle of summer, but bearable. And the light didn't burn my skin.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
And it was one hell of a skin. When I looked closely, I noticed I had a killer tan. Bronze. Smooth. Slightly glowing. Honestly, I was hot, if I wasn’t me, I’d date me. The girls would have gone crazy. Too bad there were no girls. Just rocks. And they ghosted me too.
Besides... my arms. Damn, dude, they were like two small logs. My muscles were defined, hard, and small veins bulged every time I flexed them.
And not to mention my abs. I could grate cheese on them.
Of course, I never skipped leg day, so I had two strong, masculine legs that walked confidently on the ground.
I started flexing in the sunlight like I was starring in a cologne ad for intergalactic warlords. If there was a sexy alien watching, I was ready to be abducted.
Now that I mention it... I think my sanity had gone down the toilet at that point. Yeah… sanity was indeed long gone by then.
But you know what? I think I was okay with it. I was somewhat happy with the little to nothing I had, and that was very valuable.
I thought it was time for the fledgling to leave the nest. Or in my case, the slightly radioactive dirt hole.
I looked back at the cave, the walls that had echoed my breakdowns, the puddle that kept me hydrated and mildly traumatized, and prepared my mind to begin my trip.
On the one hand, that cave had given me safety and even food. On the other hand, I couldn't simply stay there forever. I wouldn't achieve anything if I did.
I felt strong enough, but even so, I knew it was extremely dangerous. It wasn't certain I'd find another refuge, another little pool of yellow elixir. But I had to continue.
So without further ado, I stepped out into the world, brimming with confidence and absolutely zero plan.
That alien wasteland? Any Western or dieselpunk fan’s wet dream.
Throw a Mad Max cosplayer in there and they’d be sprinting in slow motion.
Me? I had no car. Just thighs.
There wasn't a single plant in sight. Just rocks. Did I mention how they ghosted me? I gave one a name. The bastard never even looked at me.
I started to think maybe that damn system had dumped me on Mars, until I remembered there were two suns overhead. And many moons.
Either NASA lied… or this wasn’t Mars.
As I walked, the heat dimmed. Although in some areas, it was much hotter.
I was in the mood for a little jog, so I did just that.
At first, I started light, at a pace a little faster than just walking. Then I thought: damn, let’s make the most of this empty wasteland. Next thing I knew, I was sprinting like a psychopath with something to prove.
Back on Earth, I would’ve embarrassed Usain Bolt and taken the gold for my country.
Out there? I was proudly representing Team: Mentally Unstable.
Soon, I stumbled into a new area. Small hills and massive ponds filled with some kind of black, viscous goo.
I found oil!
…Or so I thought, for a glorious half-second, before the smell hit me like a demonic slap from Satan himself.
It didn’t just stink.
It invaded.
It marched straight into my nostrils, set up camp, and started cooking rotten eggs over a dumpster fire.
I nearly threw up my soul.
What in the actual hell was that?
Did an alien race decide this was the perfect spot to mix coke, old meat, and every banned fast food additive in the galaxy, then just… die?
Did they open a cosmic McDonnel’s, gorge themselves to extinction, and leave this as a warning?
Because honestly, it smelled like regret. And maybe a little barbecue.
Holy shit the smell was putrid.
But, as always, the universe had one more cursed surprise waiting.
The texture of that liquid was the same as the yellow elixir; it even had small white veins through which I could see the energy flowing.
It was the same, but packaged with a rancid smell and a black color.
You see where this is headed, don’t you? Of course you do. You’re smarter than I was.
Damn my atrophied brain, the thought of drinking that cosmic death brew came to me almost instantly.
Nope. No way. Not in a thousand years.
…I thought, as I reached out and scooped up a handful like a man possessed.
Who in their right mind would do something that stupid?
What kind of absolute lunatic sees intergalactic sewage and thinks ‘snack time’?
Well, me. Apparently me.
I wasn’t just broken. I was deluxe edition degenerate.
I brought the cosmic sludge to my lips like it was fine wine... and the universe prepared its vengeance.
It tasted like shit, piss, and other bodily fluids had a violent hate-fueled orgy, and the resulting abomination was raised by an eldritch god with a personal grudge against my taste buds.
I felt my ancestors scream in protest. And I agreed with them.
This time, I didn’t feel stronger.
No surge of power.
No euphoric energy rush.
Instead… I felt tired. Like something had drained me.
But that wasn’t all.
My senses began to sharpen, violently.
I could feel every grain of dirt beneath my fingertips, rough and jagged like microscopic knives.
The wind didn’t just blow. I could track it, feel its pressure curl around my skin, weaving through the cracks in the terrain.
I heard my heartbeat like a war drum in my chest.
The slithering squelch of the wet earth beneath me, once background noise, now pulsed like a breathing creature.
And the elixir... gods, I could hear it.
The way the energy moved inside it, twisting and bubbling like a swarm of angry whispers in liquid form.
Either I had unlocked a new form of awareness… or I was dying in high definition.
I’d tasted two of this world’s finest fermented horrors.
That didn’t make me wise. Or powerful.
It made me an official alien elixir collector.
God help me if there was a third.
Spoiler alert: there was.