A deep, rhythmic thudding pulled him from the edges of sleep. At first, his tired mind mistook it for the distant crash of waves, but as the sound grew heavier, more deliberate, he realized his mistake. Those weren’t waves. Those were footsteps—massive, deliberate footfalls that sent faint vibrations through the ground.


    His eyes snapped open, and he sucked in a sharp breath. "Oh good," he muttered, voice thick with exhaustion. "Still alive. Honestly, a little surprising. I was kind of hoping unconsciousness would last until the universe stopped trying to kill me, but no, here we are. Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and completely unprepared for whatever fresh hell is making that noise."


    He remained perfectly still, listening. The footfalls were slow but heavy, each one pressing into the silence like an omen. Whatever was moving nearby, it was big. Bigger than anything he had encountered yet.


    Carefully, he shifted his weight, ensuring he wouldn’t make any sudden noise. He peered over the edge of his rocky shelter, his pulse hammering in his ears, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever monster the universe had decided to throw at him next.


    As he adjusted his goggles and peered into the dim light of the jungle, his lenses flickered to life, scanning the area beyond the tree line. The first thing that came into focus was a massive, towering shape, its silhouette cutting against the bioluminescent glow of the surrounding vegetation. Its long, column-like legs pressed deep into the damp earth with every step, the sheer weight of the creature causing faint tremors beneath Traebus'' feet.


    Then came the details—the long, sinuous neck stretching high above the treetops, its head bobbing slightly as it plucked at the canopy with slow, deliberate movements. Thick, pebbled skin, patterned with mossy green and deep brown, covered its enormous frame, blending seamlessly with the jungle around it. A long, whip-like tail swayed behind it, occasionally brushing against the trees and sending cascades of glowing spores into the air.


    Traebus'' goggles flickered as they processed the data, spitting out a series of analytical notes across his vision:


    Quadrupedal Herbivore. Approximate Height: 30 meters. Estimated Weight: Catastrophic. Bone Density: Extreme. Danger Rating: Low—Unless Stepped On.


    Traebus blinked. "Right. So, basically, a walking building with a neck. Fantastic. And would you look at that—the goggles actually worked properly for once. About time they stopped flashing error messages and useless glyphs at me."


    The massive creature let out a low, resonant rumble, its deep, echoing call vibrating through the trees. It seemed entirely uninterested in him, more focused on stripping leaves from the upper branches. Traebus let out a slow breath, easing back behind the rock. "Well, at least this one isn’t trying to eat me. That''s a nice change of pace."


    Satisfied that the enormous creature had no interest in making him a morning snack, Traebus carefully retreated from his vantage point and made his way back to his sheltered nook by the river. His legs ached from the previous day''s relentless running, but he pressed on, weaving through the undergrowth until he reached the relative safety of his makeshift camp.


    Settling onto a dry patch of earth, he let out a long breath before turning his attention to the ruined gauntlet still strapped to his arm. The once-gleaming magitech device was now little more than a scorched, cracked mess, its runic engravings flickering sporadically with residual energy. More importantly, the mana crystal that had fused itself to his palm was finally dark—completely drained of power.


    With cautious fingers, he pried at its edges, expecting some resistance, but to his relief, the gem peeled away with a soft pop, leaving behind a faint, singed outline on his skin. He turned it over in his fingers, its once-vibrant glow now reduced to a dull, lifeless husk. "Well, that was dramatic," he muttered. "Guess I finally squeezed the last drop of catastrophe out of you."


    Shaking his head, he tossed the useless crystal aside and refocused on the gauntlet. If he wanted to survive in this world, he needed it functional again.


    With careful precision, he set to work, lacking any proper tools but making do with what he had—his own ingenuity and, well, the buttons off his lab coat. He popped one off and wedged it into a groove, twisting with delicate maneuvering until the side panel grudgingly snapped open with a metallic groan.


    The gauntlet let out a disgruntled hiss, releasing a faint wisp of acrid smoke as he pried loose a charred mana conduit, revealing the delicate, utterly fried circuits beneath. "Well, that explains the spontaneous combustion. Looks like the power regulator decided it wanted to quit life just as badly as I did."


    He glanced at his coat, now missing two buttons from previous ‘tool’ use. "At this rate, I’m going to have to start ripping off sleeves just to get anything done."


    He rummaged through his coat pockets, producing a few small salvaged components—wires, spare arcane fuses, and a cracked but serviceable focusing crystal. "Alright, let’s see if I can work some miracles before this thing decides to fry my hand clean off. Again."


    As he worked, the distant sounds of the jungle played around him, the soft rustling of unseen creatures, the rhythmic trickle of the river, and somewhere far off, the echoing call of another massive beast. Traebus glanced up briefly, then shook his head. "One problem at a time.


    He continued working with meticulous focus, reconnecting frayed wires and realigning the arcane fuses with as much precision as his limited tools allowed. The focusing crystal, though cracked, slotted neatly into place, its dull surface flickering with the first faint signs of reactivated energy. The gauntlet whined in protest, its runes sparking erratically before stabilizing into a dim but steady glow.


    Traebus arched a brow. "Alright, you’re not screaming at me this time. That’s progress."


    He flexed his fingers, feeling the subtle hum of mana flow returning to the device. With a deep breath, he tapped a sequence of runes along the side, sending a test pulse through the system. A faint vibration rippled through the gauntlet, and then, to his mild surprise, his goggles flickered and displayed a new notification:


    Magitech Interface Detected. Gauntlet Synchronization: 78% Functional. Power Output: Limited. Warning: Structural Integrity Compromised.


    He grinned. "Hah! Look at that, you and the goggles are finally talking to each other. Maybe now you two can start giving me something useful instead of death threats and error codes."


    The gauntlet gave another soft pulse, and for the first time in a while, Traebus felt something resembling relief. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked. And for now, that was good enough."


    Stolen story; please report.


    Curious to see if the gauntlet could handle what had nearly incinerated him earlier, Traebus took a slow breath and reached inward, summoning that same raw, primal mana he had tapped into before. The moment it surged through him, he felt it—wild, unrefined, as if the very essence of the world itself had been distilled into pure, untamed energy.


    With a steady hand, he directed it into the gauntlet.


    For exactly half a second, the device hummed, the runes along its surface glowing brilliantly as they tried to process the influx of power. Then, with a pitiful sputter, the glow flickered and died. The gauntlet went completely dark.


    Traebus blinked. He flexed his fingers. Nothing. He rapped the side of the gauntlet with his knuckles. Still nothing.


    He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Brilliant. Just brilliant. Give it a taste of real power, and it decides to take a nap."


    Frowning, he unfastened the gauntlet and slid it off his arm, setting it beside him with a look of exasperation. If the device couldn''t handle the raw mana, maybe he needed to test what exactly he could handle.


    Taking a deep breath, he reached inward again, drawing on the strange, primal energy. Immediately, it surged through him, wild and untamed, like liquid fire coursing through his veins. His muscles tensed, his skin tingled, and a sharp ache settled deep in his bones, as if his entire body was rejecting the sheer force of it.


    He clenched his jaw, forcing the energy downward, willing it into something—anything—outside himself. His vision blurred as he focused on a small stone a few feet away, willing it to move.


    For a long, agonizing second, nothing happened. Then, with a sudden crack, the stone jittered and slid an inch across the ground.


    Traebus gasped, the pain spiking through his limbs as the mana recoiled. His breath came in ragged bursts as he nearly doubled over, clutching his knees. "Okay… okay, that hurt," he wheezed, blinking away the black spots in his vision. "But… I moved it. That actually worked."


    He let out a breathless, half-delirious laugh before collapsing onto the ground, staring up at the twisted canopy above. "Of course. I finally manage to move something with my mind, and it feels like I got punched by an angry god. At this rate, I''ll be lucky if I don’t set myself on fire trying to move a bigger rock. Hell, knowing my luck, I''ll probably pull a muscle trying to levitate a leaf. Pain is progress!"


    Still lying flat on his back, Traebus let his thoughts swirl, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The mana here—it wasn’t normal. It didn’t flow like the refined energies he was used to channeling back home. No, this stuff felt raw, untamed, like trying to grasp a raging wildfire with bare hands. There were no gentle pathways, no structured ley lines guiding it into spellcraft. It was just… wild.


    He frowned, drumming his fingers against his chest. "Alright, theory time. Either this world’s magic operates on a completely different set of rules, or—and this is the fun option—I’m trying to force my old techniques onto something that actively hates being controlled. Kind of like trying to teach a lightning bolt to sit and stay."


    He exhaled sharply. "Could also explain why the gauntlet keeled over the moment I fed it that stuff. It’s like trying to pour raw dragonfire into a teapot and expecting it to whistle instead of explode." He glanced at the lifeless device beside him and groaned. "Which means, if I want to do more than move pebbles and set myself on fire, I need to figure out how to work with this stuff instead of shoving it through circuits that clearly weren’t built for it."


    Rolling onto his side, he picked up a small rock and turned it over in his fingers, narrowing his eyes. "Alright, weird jungle mana. You win round one. But I’m not going to let a bunch of invisible magic laws kick me around forever." He tossed the stone aside and sat up. "Tomorrow, I figure this out. Or at least figure out how to make it hurt less.


    For now, though, he needed a plan. He glanced around his secluded nook by the river, considering his options. It was defensible—difficult to approach from the shore, with only a few narrow paths leading in through the jungle. That made it a decent enough spot to call home, at least temporarily.


    "Alright, new goal. Base camp," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "I need three things: food, fire, and water. Water’s the easy part, obviously. Thank you, conveniently placed river. Now I just need to figure out how to not starve or freeze to death before I manage to electrocute myself again."


    He exhaled and glanced at the dim sky above. Dawn wasn’t far off. With any luck, today wouldn’t involve another mad sprint from something trying to eat him. But given his current track record, he wasn’t holding his breath.


    Survival meant tools, and right now, he had nothing but scorched magitech and some missing coat buttons. That wasn’t going to cut it. With a groan, he pushed himself to his feet and began searching the riverbank for a suitable rock—one with a sharp edge or at least something he could shape. After a few minutes of scouring, he found a chunk of stone with a decent weight to it and set to work, chipping it against another rock to fashion a crude point.


    Traebus sat cross-legged on the damp riverbank, gripping a rough stone in one hand and slamming it repeatedly against a larger rock, chipping away at the edges with painstaking slowness. Each strike sent tiny shards flying, some of which embedded themselves into his sleeves and, more than once, his fingers.


    "Ow—damn it," he muttered, shaking his hand. "This would be so much easier if I had—oh, I don’t know—literally anything that wasn’t a rock to work with."


    After what felt like an eternity of banging, scraping, and muttered curses, he finally had something resembling a jagged, pointed tip. The uneven edges and crude flaking made it far from elegant, but it was sharp enough that he nicked his thumb testing it.


    "Alright, definitely not the finest weapon ever made, but at least it looks stabby enough to be convincing. Hopefully, anything that sees this will be just as easily fooled as I am."


    Next, he needed a sturdy stick. He wandered a bit from the river, scanning the jungle floor for something suitable. Most of what he found was either too brittle or too warped, but after a bit of searching, he unearthed a thick, solid branch that felt sturdy enough to hold up in a fight—assuming he didn’t accidentally impale himself first.


    With the stone tip and the branch in hand, the last piece of the puzzle was something to bind them together. Vines were easy enough to find, but finding one that wouldn’t snap under pressure was another challenge. After some careful tugging and testing, he managed to strip a long, fibrous vine from a nearby tree and set about lashing the stone to the stick. It took several attempts—at one point, the stone nearly slipped free and almost landed on his foot—but after some patient knotting and twisting, he stepped back to admire his work.


    A crude, primitive spear.


    Traebus gave it an experimental shake, testing the weight. "Alright, jungle. You’ve got claws, teeth, and probably something venomous hiding in the bushes. Well, now I’ve got… a pointy stick. Let’s see how you like that."


    Satisfied with his crude creation, Traebus set the spear aside for now. As much as he enjoyed the idea of brandishing his newfound pointy stick at the universe, he had more immediate concerns—namely, fire.


    The small lizards he had encountered earlier didn’t seem to like fire or lightning, which meant setting up a proper campfire might not just keep him warm but also keep the local wildlife at bay. That was, of course, assuming he could even get one started.


    "Alright, firewood first," he muttered, scanning the area for anything remotely dry. "Then we get to play everyone’s favorite survival game: ''Can I Make Fire Without Accidentally Exploding?'' Spoiler alert—probably not."


    He moved cautiously through the underbrush, scanning for anything remotely dry enough to burn. Every few steps, he froze, holding his breath as he listened for movement in the dense foliage around him. The jungle never truly felt silent—somewhere, something was always rustling, chirping, or clicking in the shadows. But it was the pauses between those sounds that unnerved him the most.


    Every time the ambient noise dipped for a second too long, his pulse spiked, and he found himself gripping his makeshift spear just a little tighter. At one point, he heard something shuffle behind him—a faint, deliberate step. He spun, heart hammering, only to find nothing but a thick tangle of glowing vines swaying slightly as if recently disturbed.


    "Oh, that’s not terrifying at all," he muttered under his breath before forcing himself back to his task.


    After several nerve-wracking minutes, he managed to gather a decent bundle of dry twigs and brittle branches. He adjusted his grip, preparing to head back to camp, when another distant rustle made him freeze mid-step. This time, it was followed by an unmistakable clicking sound, sharp and deliberate.


    "Nope," he whispered, forcing a tight-lipped grin as he began walking—very, very quickly—back toward his river nook. "I have firewood. I have all the firewood I need. No reason to stay out here and tempt fate. Nope, nope, nope."