Discovery
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Warm water lapped at Izuku's feet, rolling in over hot wet sand that stuck to his clothes and hair. Sunlight streamed through his eyelids, casting his murky awareness into crimson confusion.
The waves murmured a dull, continuous roar, a low growl without dramatic peaks or lulls. Bird calls carried on the breeze, trilling a symphony of melodies that blended chaotically.
He opened his eyes, squinting them shut immediately before sitting up and peering with a hand to shield him from the invading light. "What?" he tried to ask, but his throat parched away his speech into a hoarse rasp.
The world came into focus. A beach stretched out to his right and left, abruptly wrapping back around tropical behind him. The white sand offered barely any rocks or debris apart from coral fragments and discarded shells.
"Where am I?" he whispered.
[Welcome to {Tutorial Island One}. Here you will learn the basic principles of the {Game}. You have been assigned a {Primary Objective}. Your {Objective} is to {Survive}. Success will result in a recorded {Accomplishment} and accompanying {Reward}, with {Bonus Rewards} based upon the {Degree of Success}.]
Izuku shook with excitement. Rewards! That meant this game might give him abilities! He could earn his way to becoming stronger, to becoming a hero! Turning towards the island's interior, he talked companionably to his speech-prompting guide. "Alright, I'm ready! Let's–"
[Failure to meet the {Objective} will result in the following penalties: {Permanent Death}]
He froze mid-stride. "What?"
[Failure to meet the {Objective} will result in the following penalties: {Permanent Death}]
His jaw and heart trembled. "When you say permanent death, do you mean dying here will kill me for real?"
[Yes. The {Game} is a reality constructed for the {Hero's Journey}, and that includes real consequences. Injuries and fatalities within the {Game} are real.]
Izuku's pulse raced. He didn't question the voice before, assumed it was a quirk or something like it, but now he feared what it was. "I never asked why I'm here, so why am I here?"
[You are the {Hero} and shall undergo {The Hero's Journey}.]
"No," he growled defiantly. "I mean, why did you pick me?"
[{Candidates} are selected based on a criterion of {Desires} expressed as {Wants} and {Wishes}. The {Game} provides opportunities to fulfill those {Desires} and therefore selects {Candidates} whose {Desires} align with the {Hero's Journey}. Once selected, a {Candidate} shall remain a {Hero} within the {Game} until they complete the {Hero's Journey} or fail to meet a {Primary Objective}.]
Izuku's eyes widened in horror. "How many players, candidates, have there been before me?"
The machine paused.
[You have not earned the {Accomplishment Reward} that will unlock that {Information}.]
Izuku, small as he was, balled his fists and gritted his teeth. "What happened to the rest?"
[You have not earned the {Accomplishment Reward} that will unlock that {Information}.]
Tears streamed from his eyes, not from the piercing sunlight but from the lives wasted by this villainous thing that promised him so little but threatened to take so much. "What happens when someone becomes the hero, when they win this game?"
[You have not earned the {Accomplishment Reward} that will unlock that {Information}.]
Izuku shook his head angrily. No answers. This thing offered him nothing. He huffed and marched inland towards the thick brush and trees. He could hear birds, and that meant there was enough water on this island that he could survive. That was his first goal, hydration.
[6:22:39] appeared to his left. "What's that?"
[That is the {Counter}. It marks the time you have remaining to complete your {Primary Objective}.]
Six days, Izuku reasoned. Six days, twenty-two hours, and thirty-nine minutes. The machine probably assigned a solid week for him to live, but he slept through the first twenty minutes of it. At least he knew how long he'd be here, then.
Izuku never imagined he'd need wilderness survival training. Suburbia was the most untamed environment he'd been to in his whole life, a place where civilization's stamp on nature constantly reminded him who the dominant species was. Every beach he'd been to, every tree he'd seen, all were amenities for human enjoyment.
This island was no such place.
Thick, unruly underbrush blocked his path while trees crowded in, looming to obscure every scrap of light they would hungrily absorb. Where the beach was bright and hot, here it was humid and dark.
He wrestled past grasping branches and enormous leaves to emerge into a world of eternal twilight, where the lightless ground was thick with roots but otherwise sparse once you got past the outer shield wall, where sunlight fed the perimeter.
Birds of every color and shade sang and danced high above him, teasingly out of reach while they carried on, unconcerned about the new arrival down below. He found himself distracted by them, glancing up to gawk at their beauty until his foot slipped–
Into an enormous hoof print.
Izuku backed away and examined the deep groove the animal left behind. Its angular feet crushed through thin roots and left unmistakable tracks – not human, that was clear. A deer? Maybe? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that something else lived on this island and it was probably big enough to hurt him.
Water, he still needed to find a spring or something, but now he needed to make sure not to get killed on the way. After that, he had to figure out food, shelter, and how to protect himself.
He bent down to examine the tracks more. Even if he didn't know what made them, he hoped to learn how recently the creature walked over here. That way, he might avoid it, or, the idea occurred to him, he might trace the tracks to see if the animal could lead him to water. "So," he idled aloud. "Who are you, and where are you going?"
[You have found tracks belonging to a {Bonus Objective}. This {Objective} was unlocked because you meet the requirements for {Bonus Objective: Strength from Weakness}.]
Oh, so the little voice and pop-up still offered hints. Good. "Can you tell me what animal made these?"
[You have not earned the {Accomplishment Reward} that will unlock that {Information}.]
Izuku grimaced. Of course, it wouldn't say anything helpful. He straightened up and followed the tracks, moving slowly to avoid making too much noise in case something was nearby. Whatever left them knew more about the island than he did, so for now, this was the road.
Not long after, regret filled his nostrils. Izuku recoiled when he found a pile of dung on the trail. It reeked worse than anything he expected it would or could, like an unflushed toilet mixed with rotting fridge meat and fungus. Worse, it emanated moist heat, advertising how fresh the pile was.
Wait, how fresh?
Something rustled and rumbled up ahead. Izuku didn't pause to think about it. He ran to the nearest tree and gripped hard, climbing with ferocious panic flooding his veins.
The thing unleashed a squealing roar at him while it charged, ramming itself headlong into the trunk just below Izuku's outstretched foot. Too late, as the boy grabbed a low branch to pull himself up, the beast bit onto the sole of Izuku's foot, teeth sinking through his sand-crusted sock and into his skin, pulling with vicious hunger, demanding meat right off Izuku's bones.
Izuku shook his foot loose, sacrificing the sock, then kept climbing. The gnawing, grinding noise underneath him and angry squeals commanded him to look, ordered him to stop and assess the danger, the damage, but he ignored that until he felt secure on a higher, thicker, sturdier branch.
Finally, he looked down past his bare, bleeding foot. A long groove-gash split him open from the sole to the ball of his foot, with a matching wound along the top. Even though he knew it should hurt, it didn't, and he still had his toes, so he ignored that for now to–
The boar roared at him before scraping at the tree, uselessly clambering up but it couldn't get enough purchase to pursue Izuku skyward. Instead, it grunted and groaned in frustration that such a great meal escaped.
This thing wasn't merely as big as Izuku. It was twice his size, and it was hungry. The omnivorous would-be predator and escaped prey each met the others' gaze, and the way the animal glared, Izuku knew that the rest of the week on this island would be life in hell. Water and food were now distant concerns next to staying far away from tusks, jaws, and the monster they belonged to.
[You have encountered {Bonus Objective: Weakness from Strength}. Your {Objective} is to slay and eat the {Bonus Objective}.]
"I have to k-kill and eat that?!" Izuku yipped uselessly.
[No. It is a {Bonus Objective}. There is no penalty for failing to meet the {Objective}.]
"Well," Izuku grunted sarcastically. "That's a relief."
The boar sat on its ass and stared up at Izuku, waiting for him to come down from the tree.
"Shit," he whispered. As his heart slowed and adrenaline stopped masking his pain, the twin gashes in his foot throbbed, stung, and burned. The boar's filthy mouth, slick with Izuku's blood, curled into something almost like a smile, revealing jagged, hooked teeth, yellow with decay.
Izuku knew immediately that there was no way to clean his wound, to prevent an infection. He had no way to climb down and find water, find food, or shelter. This monster had him trapped, and all it needed to do was wait for exhaustion and fever to set in. Then, Izuku would fall, and pigs aren't picky about where they get their meat from.
Izuku clung harder to the tree, hugging it as if it might comfort him. "Oh shit."
Silence assaulted his senses. The drama between man and beast alerted the birds, or perhaps seeing a human in their tree frightened them, urging an end to their songs. Apart from leaves rustling in the breeze and the pig's complaints, the island dulled into a murmur as waves lapped a shore Izuku could no longer see.
Izuku glanced at the clock and groaned.
[6:21:52]
How was he supposed to survive in a tree for that long?
He fought to calm down, steady his breathing, and study his situation. He had time. The only thing he had was time.
Izuku found himself in the branches of a wide tropical behemoth, a species he couldn't identify. The roots gnarled into the sandy soils below before twisting together to form a girthy composite trunk, one that ascended to several times his height before offering him refuge in its lower branches. He had yet to climb his way higher to the upper levels of the tree, but he could already see bushels of bright orange and red flowers amid the leaves above, alongside nests and wandering birds.
Peering to the tree's outer perimeter, he spied a series of vines that hung loose over the branches, slung there not from the roots he'd climbed but wrestled onto the outer limbs by the tree's neighbors, as if handfasting them together in an alliance. The old guard, their branches bound tightly to each other, starved the ground below for sunlight, grabbing it all up for themselves.
So much for one generation fostering another.
Some trees, however, defied that monopoly. Izuku felt tempted to hope when he noticed several narrower, straight-trunked trees had shot up through the myriad branch ways above, staking their place in the sun. He prayed for some fruit somewhere he could reach, maybe a coconut so he could drink something as the week trickled by.
Yes. Fruit. That would mean he might live. Also, the vines. If he could get enough of those, he might figure out a way to tie himself to the tree. That would let him sleep without fear of falling to the boar's level.
"Let's do this," he encouraged himself.
Izuku gripped the next branch and pulled his way higher. The climb was perilous. The tree was no more difficult than before, but now Izuku couldn't rely on both feet. He didn't dare rest too much weight on his injured foot, fearing it might give up on him or worse, the blood might slick the tree and send him falling backward.
Besides, he didn't want to let the wound contact any tree bark. There was no reason to get the wound dirtier than it already was.
His progress was slow, but he eventually found a resting spot. High above the ground, yet still below the canopy of leaves, the tree's apex point offered him enough purchase to lap back without worrying about falling over. It was gnarled and hard, a knot of wood that radiated out into the highest limbs before they turned up to offer him shade.
It was also an ideal nesting spot. There weren't any eggs to crack open and eat or birds to contend with, and for that, he was grateful. The twigs, feathers, mud, grass, and hair that composed the makeshift structure showcased a basket big enough for him to lay back in comfortably, if you can call a bed that poked your back comfortable. At this thing's size, if this were a defended nest, he might have to fight off parents as formidable as the pig down below.
He might still have to. There was always the chance that they'd return, and they wouldn't be happy to find someone squatting in their home.
He sat down on the edge, wincing as branches crunched under his weight. That sound was accompanied by a cloud of debris built into the walls. It reeked of long-decayed droppings and discarded eggshells. He had a choice: use this thing somehow or push it off. A decision for later.
Until he found a better spot, this nest site, shielded from the sun and far from the pig's reach, was his best option for shelter, one he'd need to make use of for a whole week.
"Welcome home," he told himself glumly.
Exhaustion suggested more rest, but Izuku knew that without securing food and water, he'd die before the week. Despite his screaming foot, he continued higher, leaving the security of his nest-perch towards the canopy.
The birds chirped and squawked as he passed, dancing and fluttering, announcing his presence or defending their territory. Some tried to peck at him, but he waved them away.
The branches thinned, bending with his weight, but he carefully pried his way up. Peering past through the dense leaf ceiling, he got his first panoramic view of the island.
The forest at the center was small. Encountering the boar was inevitable, so there was no use regretting it now. Nothing penetrated the canopy except the occasional palm tree. Those interested him the most. He glanced from one to the next, searching for any sign of fruit, and then–
All of them. Tutorial Island boasted an abundance of fruit. As Izuku's heart trembled with hope, he found one tree after another, each overloaded with bounty. Coconuts there, little bananas that way, some kind of berry that grew in bunches as big as his torso, and then more and more that he couldn't even name.
As soon as he could find a way to reach them, he'd have enough food to survive the week. That only left water, protection, and, hopefully, a way to treat his foot. The closest palm tree tempted him with enough coconuts that his mouth watered with thirst.
"How do I open one of those without a rock?" he wondered aloud. He wasn't strong enough to rip open the other layers or to puncture the shells, so doing it without tools wouldn't accomplish anything.
No. It would be better to focus on fruit for now. He'd get at least some water from eating those bananas, for example. That decided, he scrambled across the branches and vines towards his first meal. Thankfully, the bananas were well within reach after he crossed to the other side of his home tree.
Peeling one proved to him that wild bananas are nothing like the ones in stores. They were smaller, mealier, and chock full of seeds he had to spit out. They didn't taste great, either, but maybe they weren't ripe. Either way, he ate until he felt full, all while holding his balance despite his injured foot.
The pig waited below, waddling over to rest beneath Izuku's newest meal. It sniffed at the seeds as they fell, ate several of them, but whined. It wanted more than seeds. It wanted Izuku.
Izuku's lip curled in anger. "You want some of me?" he called down. He smirked as a familiar sensation rose in his guts.
The boar grunted.
Izuku unzipped his pant, whipped out, and aimed, then unleashed a stream of urine as best he could onto the boar down below. It snarled and backed away, but it didn't abandon its vigil.
"There's more where that came from," Izuku taunted, but the words had more meaning than he intended, and he didn't know that until after hurling them down at the creature.
This was going to be a long week, or worse, a short one.
{}
After eating his fill, Izuku carried a cluster of bananas back to the nest, gripping the base with his teeth so he could climb more effectively. After that, he journeyed to another section of the tree where he could examine the vines that bound the wider, lower branches to those of neighboring tree.
This brought him closer to his newfound nemesis, the boar. It followed him from one end of the tree to the other, eagerly waiting for Izuku to slip and fall.
Didn't this thing have roots or berries somewhere to go munch on? A spring to slurp up? Mud to wallow in? Was it so bored that watching Izuku climb was the best part of its day?
Izuku had never hated an animal before, but he seriously loathed that pig. The way it stared at him, the feeling was obviously mutual.
It took serious work, including gnawing on them with his teeth, but he loosened then freed a length of vines to use as a rope. He bound his foot tightly, no longer able to stand the pain, and long since past the point of caring about casual contact with his surroundings. If it was infected, and it probably was, it was already too late to worry about prevention.
After that, he obtained more vines in case he needed them, either as replacement bandages or to tie himself to the tree. They probably could take his weight if he used several at a time, but he doubted his knot-tying skills could hold up, especially with how rigid the vines proved to be. Another option was to use them to make a primitive basket so he could carry more fruit back to his home base each trip.
He was so wrapped up in his work that he didn't notice when the sky darkened, not until he heard the rain. It misted through the canopy, a gradual drip, then the pace picked up. It flowed, forming small rivulets along the branches as the sky unleashed a torrent of water onto the world below.
The branches swayed and rocked with the sudden onslaught, forcing Izuku to prioritize his grip over his thirst. He clambered back to the center of the tree, holding tight and afraid every time he felt even a minor slip.
At last, he sprawled face up in the soggy nest, uncaring about the way the sticks poked his back. He cupped his hands and drank greedy mouthfuls of fresh water again and again, not knowing when he'd get another chance. He almost wished he hadn't eaten so recently so that he could fit even more water down his gullet.
Three days. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he could survive three days on just one storm cloud's worth of rain. That wasn't good enough. He needed enough water to last a week, and that meant storage, some way to hold more water until later.
Desperately, he looked around for anything that might work as a bowl. Leaves were his best option. He grabbed up several, grateful that they were large and rounded. Upside down, they each might hold a half cup, maybe more.
But where could he rest them? Where was there enough room to–
He scrambled out of the nest. He gripped it by its side and lifted it, pulling it free from the tree below, loosening the anchoring that the birds constructed.
Flat. This section of the tree was flat. Izuku had no time to decide. It was either a resting spot or the best place to store water he'd ever have, and he chose water.
Quickly, he tossed the nest aside, wincing as it crashed below. He didn't pause after that, focusing on gathering leaves as quickly as he could so that he could muster up as much water reserves as possible.
Soon after, his makeshift reservoir had enough water to let him look forward to at least a cup later that evening, some for breakfast, and perhaps more for the next several days. He'd have to protect this from contamination or from spilling, but the work paid off.
He was soaked to the bone, and the rain chilled him to his core. Without a fire to warm him, he needed to think. The island was warm, even at night, but his clothes were soaked. He removed his shirt and shorts before wrapping them tightly around a branch, letting them form a soggy pillow he could lean on. That, awkward as it might be to lean against, would be his bed for now.
At last, he relaxed, leaning onto his pillow branch while letting his legs stretch across what little space he left for himself, and tied himself down to the tree so he could rest.
He pried his eyes open long enough to gauge the timer, the only reminder he had to hold out hope.
[6:17:12]
That was a long time still, so he might as well nap to conserve his energy. Survival, he learned, was hard work.
{}
[6:12:47]
The boar snored, and Izuku found he could rest even despite that. Occasionally it cleared its throat. That rare instance of hacking and wheezing startled him awake several times. Now, though, it was louder than the fits it had before, and Izuku knew he needed to wake up at least long enough to assess his surroundings.
Starlight faintly peered through the leaves, illuminating the canopy above but leaving Izuku in shadow while the boar bathed in utter darkness below. Izuku couldn't see it anymore, only hear it, smell it, and feel its presence.
He untied himself and set to work.
Cautiously he checked over his leaf cups, making sure they were all accounted for. He sat up and took a drink, then ate his dinner: bananas, just like his lunch. The seeds got in his way again, and the taste left a lot to be desired, but he didn't want to risk climbing the wet branches while it was so dark.
He'd wait until morning for that. Now wasn't the time–
[6:12:44]
Izuku stared at the clock. Whenever he stopped thinking about it, it tucked away into his peripheral vision, but consciously thinking about the time brought it to the center of his vision.
So far, it was the only reminder he had that this was a game. Nothing else popped up to tell him the kind of information a game should tell him. There weren't numbers floating over anything, no hit points or health bars, no experience or levels or anything he'd have guessed would pop out onto a user display. If not for the clock ticking down each minute, Izuku would be alone on an island with a pig that wanted to eat him, and that would be all.
"There's no way this is all of it," he muttered.
Tutorial Island One. That's what the voice called it earlier. This was where he was meant to learn the basics of the game, but nothing prompted him or offered to teach him a single thing. Was he meant to discover everything on his own?
"Status," he said before waiting for a response from the system.
[You are {Injured}]
Izuku thinned his lips and narrowed his eyes at the floating text, bright enough that it obscured the darkness around. "I already knew that. I want to see my status screen."
[You have not earned the {Accomplishment Reward} that will unlock that {Feature}.]
He rubbed his chin and jaw. At least this revealed that features like that existed. "Inventory."
[You have not earned the {Accomplishment Reward} that will unlock that {Feature}.]
His eyes widened. Something, even if he didn't know what it was, would unlock an inventory function. Okay, progress, or at least the promise of something like it, gave him hope.
Izuku grinned. "Map."
[You have not earned the {Accomplishment Reward} that will unlock that {Feature}.]
All he had to do was name a feature, and the game would tell him if he could unlock it later. His heart raced at the prospect. He held up the last banana peel and looked at it. "Identify."
[You have not earned the {Accomplishment Reward} that will unlock that {Skill}.]
Izuku gasped and then laughed. Skills! The game had a skill system!
"Now what about," he wondered aloud. "Compass?"
[You have not earned the {Accomplishment Reward} that will unlock that {Feature}.]
That raised a new question for him. "What's the difference between a skill and a feature?"
[A {Skill} in {The Hero's Journey} describes an {Action} that the {Hero} can perform. New {Skills} are earned by recording {Accomplishments} and completing {Objectives}. A {Feature} in {The Hero's Journey} is a discrete {Game} element that passively alters the {Hero's} abilities or the {Baseline Difficulty} of the {Game}. New {Features} are unlocked by recording {Accomplishments} and completing {Objectives}.]
That made sense. If it gave Izuku a new ability, it was a skill. If it altered his HUD or offered him additional information, it was a feature. "What's the reward for surviving Tutorial Island One?"
[You have not earned the {Accomplishment Reward} that will unlock that {Information}.]
He folded his arms across his chest. The thing hid information but told him when it did so. That meant it probably wouldn't lie to him. "Are there any objectives on this island that you've not told me about?"
[You have not earned the {Accomplishment Reward} that will unlock that {Information}.]
Izuku almost stopped breathing. There were hidden objectives. That meant there were hidden rewards, too.
Discovery. The entire game was about discovery. Sure, he was told to survive, but he wasn't told how. He had to discover every answer on his own.
That meant risks were necessary.
Izuku peered up at the canopy above. The branches were slick and difficult to see, but the stars would offer more light the closer he made it to the top. If there were stars, then he could find constellations, maybe even the North Star or the Southern Cross.
It would be easier if he could see the branches right in front of him, though.
Wait a minute.
"Time."
[6:12:37]
Immediately, the clock moved to center itself on his perception, illuminating the path ahead even while obscuring everything past the read-out. That, however, was enough.
He ascended past the clock. "Time"
[6:12:37] it read, jumping ahead of him again.
Repeatedly, he'd move up, reset the clock's location, and begin the process, slowly making his way in the dark. Then, finally, he made it.
The stars spread across the sky, thick with light and beauty, unlike anything he'd seen while living in Japan. The Milky Way dominated everything, reminding him of how small he was, his people, his planet, everything that he'd ever see or touch or do, all of it minuscule against a cosmos so vast and gorgeous that it would outlast every picture painting or poem made in its reverence.
He gripped the branches tightly and stared in awe, and allowed a sense of wonder to fill him, unlike anything he'd ever known. This wasn't the idolization of a hero or the admiration of someone he'd like to become. This was something more primal than he'd ever felt.
For the first time, Izuku wasn't a boy chasing a dream, a figurehead, or a person. He was looking past all of them toward horizons yet unexplored, wonders undiscovered, and ideas yet to be thought. As the stars burned brilliantly, illuminating the past and promising to be there in the future, Izuku realized that by being trapped inside this game, on this island, he was looking at the greater world outside the one he lived in.
At last, he found a familiar sight, one he never thought he'd see or have reason to look for outside a textbook.
The Southern Cross, the sign that guided sailors for centuries when they needed to make their way south of the equator.
[{Hidden Objective: The Compass Point} discovered. You have earned the {Accomplishment: The Compass}. The {Feature: Compass} is now unlocked.]
[Congratulations, {Hero}, on your first {Discovery}.]
{}
Author Notes
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I promised I'd finish the next chapter of my book before coming back to this fanfic, but that was a lie. That is, I lied to myself. After a hard case of burnout, I needed a break, so I focused on this project instead. I hope you all enjoyed it. This time when I say I'm going to work on my book, I really mean it.
Anyway, feel free to follow me on Twitter darklogic2 or join my Discord /25BTet3 for more updates, especially book updates.
