***The other side of the Gate, Tirnanog***

***Magnus***

I fell through the fucking rabbit-hole.

On my way down into the pit, I screamed, utterly blinded by the light that was bright enough to make me see the red of my eyelids even after covering my eyes with both hands.

Together with the other exiles who had lost it, we created a somewhat embarrassing chorus of screaming men that reminded me of a particularly nasty roller-coaster.

Then I hit the ground face-first... or rather... the water. My hands and arms that had protected me from the light additionally softened the blow. Still, it didn’t feel like landing in water helped much.

The height of the fall made it feel as if I had kissed the concrete of a street, but my new physique apparently allowed me to shrug off the impact.

Struggling and kicking my feet like a newborn, I tried swimming upwards while swallowing handfuls of water. Finally, I managed to resurface and take a look at the new world while gasping for air.

The sun high above was too bright and large to even look at.

It was indeed like Tirnanog's landscape was exposed to an oversized flashlight, making it hard to see much. But I could make out the shore of what seemed to belong to the small lake that I had landed in.

Not wanting to waste any time, I started to swim, pushing aside fellow exiles who weren't as quick on the uptake. My organization couldn't find out much on Project Exile, but we managed to get some information. Like that getting out of any water quickly was important for survival.

Some of the other exiles were calling out to the heavens to take them back to Earth. Others were simply venting their frustration by beating the water.

Only a rare few of us were actually trying to reach the shore as quickly as possible.

At least that was the case until the screams of outrage turned into cries of terror. From their complaints, I collected that there was something with us in the water. Something that had dragged someone beneath the surface.

I neither cared, nor looked back as I made my way towards shore as quickly as possible one stroke at a time. The shore was so close and yet so far. When something wanted to take a bite out of you, twenty meters felt like a kilometre.

I had heard the stories about this world and I had no illusions about surviving some aquatic predator by dodging it in its own element. My best hope was that the others would provide a sufficient distraction for whatever had an empty belly.

Someone or something grabbed my foot in an attempt to pull me down – or itself forward.

Screaming, I simply kicked out, hitting something that quickly let go.

Then I was swimming again and reached shallower waters only to crawl onto land with the last of my power. By the time I had reached the rocky shore, I was struggling to breathe. Rising to my feet to walk the last few steps out of the water required a feat of strength I wasn't used to.

But I managed through an effort of pure adrenaline and will. Whatever had been in the water had put the fear of mother nature into my bones.

Turning, I surveyed the blue lake that had welcomed us so softly to this world.

Some of the other people were still in the churning waters, but most were reaching solid ground by now.

Further out, the lake's water had taken on the pinkish colour of diluted blood.

I couldn't help but shake at the thought of returning to the lake when I realized there was no guarantee that whatever had eaten some of my fellow exiles would actually have the decency to stay in the water.

Looking around, I bent down and picked up one of the sharper rocks with a good edge to it. Pummelling some monster with it would likely turn out to be futile, but I felt better holding it.

Watching the others dragging themselves out of the water took a moment of my attention before I searched the unfamiliar forest beyond the shore for this so-called affiliate the researcher had mentioned. Sadly, I couldn't find anyone human enough to fit the expectation.

There was some furry critter in a tree further away who was watching us with interest. Three-legged and with a long bushy tail, it had similarities with an ape, but yet clearly wasn't anything from Earth. Thankfully, it didn't look like it intended to go on a murder spree any time soon.

Something leathery that was probably the equivalent of a bird flew from tree to tree, not paying us any attention.

By the time I got bored of my inspection, the last survivor had made it to shore and was emptying his belly on all fours.

My legs already started to shake just from standing upright and the rock in my hand felt unusually heavy. The gravity on this world was a nightmare.

Once more I checked the water for any sign of the predator, but it had apparently eaten its fill.

More screams and curses turned my attention away from the dangerous waters and towards the other exiles.

Some men had tried to make their way away from the rocky shore and onto what looked like a field of grass. It formed a little clearing next to the lake. Only, what went for grass in this world was apparently slightly different from what we were used to. So were the trees and other vegetation.

Everything seemed familiar but was slightly... off.

The grass for example. It was green and about the size of what would be expected of grass. But instead of the familiar blades, they were tiny stems ending in pointy needles.

I stepped closer and gingerly tested the grass with my stone.

The green lawn was a field of pointy spikes rigid enough to stab right through the rubber sole of a shoe. Which was exactly the fate that the first unfortunate fool who tried to leave the shore had suffered.

Clad in a baggy, grey one-piece prisoner's garb, combined with the cheapest shoes the prison could purchase, there wasn't much of a question traversing the vegetation beyond the shore would be a short-lived and painful experience.

Backing off, I surveyed the clearing in front of me and the thick forest vegetation behind it.

When I couldn't make out any obvious way forward, I sat down to think. It looked like even this world's plants were out to get us.

Some of the other exiles were trying to organize themselves. At least those who hadn't given up or lost it. The ones whose minds hadn’t coped were sitting on the ground and bemoaning their fate.

I ignored them. There was nothing that could be done for them.

Given how straining just standing upright was, I decided to conserve my energy until I could decide how to proceed.

It was fortunate that I looked just like one of the many other exiles who had lost it. Aside from those who were trying to organize themselves, many had apparently given up on life and were just sitting on the shore. A scarce few were even fighting with each other.

I was just glad that nobody seemed to pay attention to me for the moment.

Our plight of being caught between the deadly lake and untraversable greenery ended when something approached us through the underbrush, cursing up a storm while doing so.

I watched with rapt attention, as a monster of a man made his way onto the clearing. He was at least two meters tall and carried a worn-looking crate.

His skin had a greyish hue and white tufts came out of his slightly pointed ears. He wore a mane of long white hair. Together with his ragged clothes that were made out of animal hides, he was quite the sight.

I would have probably laughed at the ridiculous getup if it hadn’t been for the muscular body and the large spikes that protruded from his elbows. His forearms alone looked like he could pick up any of the exiles and break his victim like a twig.

Ah, and he walked barefoot on the spiky grass, protected by hoof-like growths that came from the soles of his feet.

He was cursing because he was being followed by a flock of little saurians who were the size of large rats. They squawked like chickens and were flitting around the man, nipping at his heels and jumping up to his waist to nip at a piece of small game he had hanging from his belt.

Somehow they managed to navigate the spike-grass, never setting foot on any of the needles.

Whenever the newcomer struck out at one, they moved so fast, it was almost like they teleported to another spot, leaving behind a small trail of sparks.

His attempt at stepping on one of them apparently agitated the creature and it jumped at his thigh, causing an electrical discharge that made the man flinch.

“Ah!”

He finally had enough and made his displeasure known by stomping his foot and roaring like a madman. The flock of little saurians was startled by his scream and dispersed in all directions. Some simply ran off while others spread the plumage on their backs two-ways and flew off into the trees.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Okay, so maybe not rats, but more like pigeons?

“Little pests!” He huffed and dusted off the heavy leather kilt that protected his upper legs.

He finally took notice of our sorry group and waved a hand that could have probably crushed the head of any of us normal humans.

Or were we still normal humans? A human from Earth would probably be in the right to question such a claim.

“Hello, I am Roderick.” He looked around, searching for something. “Has any of you seen a crate?” Roderick placed his huge hand on the banged-up metal container that he was carrying like a rucksack. “Looks like this, just less damaged?”

I watched as the other exiles exchanged dumbfounded glances, but there was no crate to be found.

Roderick sighed and dropped his crate onto the clearing. “Fuckers must have dropped it into the water again. Why do they always drop it into the water? It’s like they are intentionally avoiding opening their stupid portal above a nice clearing.”

While Roderick complained and walked past us into the lake, I and many others only glanced at the spike-grass as we imagined what it would have been like to land there instead of in the water.

Roderick went under like some rock, not even trying to swim.

Personally, I was more concerned with the image of landing in the spike-grass.

I mean, the water had monsters, but having whatever side I landed on pin-cushioned with five centimetre long needles didn’t sound appealing either. Nothing had given me the idea that training as a fakir was a necessary skill before coming here. That, and I had to remind myself that I had managed a very ungraceful faceplant into the lake.

Yeah, the monsters inside the lake were probably the better option when it came to a group’s survival rate.

Roderick resurfaced, carrying a brand-new crate. He had apparently simply walked across the lake’s ground to get his prize – untroubled by whatever had eaten quite a few exiles.

I made a quick count, but couldn’t make out much more than thirty people. Which meant that we had lost more than ten exiles to the lake monster. Or was it simply a case of them being unable to swim?

Roderick sighed and dropped the new crate onto the clearing. He knelt and opened it, then took out a large Havanna cigar. He bit off one end and ignited it with a lighter from inside the crate.

Then he closed it and sat down on top of it, looking at us with a pleased expression. “Let me welcome you to the land where blood and guts flow freely and splattered brains bloom from every unaware neck.”

He took a long pull. “I could give you guys the long version, but let me make it short: You are fucked!”

“Fuck you!” one of the exiles screamed. “Tell us how we can get out of here!”

Roderick didn't reply. Instead, he bent down and ripped out a fistful of spike-grass. Then his hand blurred as he threw it at the complainer without any sign of hesitation.

The result was a face and upper torso full of needles that the now screaming man could have probably avoided if he had just kept his mouth shut.

Our new compatriot rolled his eyes. “Could someone shut him up? There are murderers among you, right?”

The men looked at each other.

Roderick whistled. “Imagine what would happen if his screams attracted one of the larger predators. I would have to leave you all here while I escaped to safety.”

I winced when one of the men picked up a large stone and brained the guy who had caught a case of needle-face.

Roderick sighed in relief. “That's one less to worry about. Now, let me count. There are... thirty-one of you! That's a lot, given that you landed in the lake.”

A lot? They had thrown fifty of us through the wormhole and less than half an hour later we were already down to almost half our number.

“Unfortunately, I have only twenty pieces of meat with me this time. And you will have to eat almost all of it to activate your nanotech for the first time.” Roderick turned around and pulled the banged-up crate closer. “Which means that eleven of you have to go. Sorry, guys. How do you want to do this?”

“Why?” Another exile dared to speak up. “Haven't they told you how many they would send?”

Roderick scratched his head. “Yeah, sorry. Normally, there are less than ten of you left when I arrive. I should have probably walked slower.”

“Dude! Not cool, man!” another exile called out. “Why would they do this!”

“Too many men,” Roderick replied, sounding a little sarcastic. “Haven't you thought about any of this? Earth exiles a lot more men than women. You are a group of fifty. They send probably less than ten women at once and they dump them all directly into the Old Camp. This science project is fucked up. They don't need so many males, so they cull our numbers by running you through a survival of the fittest trial.”

“Bastard!”

“Who was that?” Roderick searched the crowd with his eyes, but the culprit didn't dare to speak up a second time.

The large man harrumphed when he couldn't make out his next victim. “Anyway. I am just the paid help. Don't blame me if you are too weak for this world.”

My eyes wandered towards the crate he was sitting on.

More like a 'bribed' help. And a highly unreliable one at that.

“Well, be that as it may.” Roderick pointed somewhere behind him. “In that direction lies the Old Camp. It's at a cliff-side, protected by a river on the left and marshlands on the right. Your task is simple. Eat the meat I will provide you and reach the camp. Join one of the groups there and survive. With that, my task is done.”

Roderick stood up and threw the crate he had brought with him into the group of survivors.

Humans being humans, and the exiles being some of the worst of them, the result was to be expected.

Most of the exiles went for each other's throats as they tried to get to the crate.

I got back to my feet, glad that I had held myself apart from them and at the edge of the group.

Ready to fight, but holding back, I waited, hoping that enough of the others would knock themselves out for me to get a piece of mystery meat without risk to myself.

The insanity of people smashing and beating each other to a pulp wasn't lost on me.

And my plan would have worked flawlessly if it hadn't been for one simple fact.

Human greed.

The man who eventually managed to claim the title of ‘king of the hill’ was a more human version of Roderick. Dark-skinned and with the body of a weightlifter, he managed to defend the crate for long enough for the others to realize that there were only eighteen of us left. So fighting no longer made sense.

It was the same guy who had brained the man earlier.

The rest of the exiles littered the ground. They were either crying about their injuries or not moving at all. Those who were still standing made quick work of anyone who was unable to defend themselves. It showed there wasn’t much love lost among us.

I started to develop a serious dislike for Roderick. He had definitely lost some marbles during his time in exile. I mean, I probably wasn’t anyone who had the right to judge, but at least I didn’t delight in causing senseless suffering when there was probably a solution to something as simple as a handful of meat.

“Haah...” The dark-skinned man breathed heavily, but evenly. “And now, I am going to decide who is going to get a piece of the cake.” He straightened and smirked at the rest of us. “If you want to join my group, you will have to prove your worth to me.”

I looked towards Roderick, but he showed no motivation to interfere. He was much more interested in sucking on his cigar while using us as some sort of entertainment.

“How are we supposed to prove-”

One of the other exiles spoke up, drawing Mr. Muscle's attention when I threw my trusty rock. If the fuckers thought to create some deranged jungle tribe with Mr. Muscles as their chieftain, then it would be without me. I had better things to do than to play survival in the forest.

My rock hit its target dead-centre on the back of his head.

While Mr. Muscles went down, I was already moving towards the crate, glaring at any exile who might object. They didn’t, so I knelt and unclasped the locks to open it.

Twenty unmarked compartments with one piece of meat each greeted me.

I simply grasped one and took a bite before something knocked me over from the side.

Mr. Muscles was back up and pissed. Which was a development I definitely hadn’t expected after braining him with a heavy, fist-sized rock.

He knocked the meat out of my hand and delivered a punch into my jaw that would have knocked out or killed any normal person, but we exiles weren’t quite normal anymore. The hit rattled my brain quite well, but I wasn’t out of the fight yet. It was something I could have thought about before trying to back-stab the largest ape in the group.

I managed to grasp a fistful of gravel from between the larger rocks and threw them at Muscles’s face. Then I rolled away and backed off, searching the ground for a larger stone capable of bashing in a skull.

While doing so, I quickly chewed what little meat I had gotten and swallowed.

But before we could go at it again, the roar of something huge shook the clearing.

“Oh, I told you guys not to be so loud. Gotta go!” Roderick didn’t hesitate. He picked up his brand-new crate and ran. The huge man who could have probably manhandled any of the exiles ran away like the devil itself was about to enter the clearing.

Then a huge head broke through the underbrush.

I had often watched documentaries of dinosaurs as a kid, and the creature reminded me of a triceratops, but this one had just a single eye and its physique looked a lot more nimble. Its maw was more like a mix between a canine and a shark, hinting it wasn’t a vegetarian.

It opened its maw and its throat bulged like toad’s before a stream of liquid fire shot at the group of exiles, catching two of us.

Cursing, I dove to the side and threw myself into the shallower water instead of fleeing along the lake’s shore like the others. I could only hope the lake monster was already satiated or unwilling to leave the deeper waters.

Hugging one of the larger rocks on the lakebed, I drew myself beneath the surface while another gout of fire showered the shore, followed by an explosion.

Now I knew why humanity had problems with conquering this world. Judging by Roderick’s earlier interactions with the little saurians, the pigeons were frigging tasers and the local cows were the size of a pickup truck and had inbuilt flame throwers! Oh, and they seemed to prefer meat.

Not to forget that stupid grass!

I stayed underwater for as long as I could. Even when I no longer heard anything, I stayed beneath the water until my lungs burned like fire.

When I couldn't hold out any longer, I slowly peeked my head above the surface.

The coast was a mess. A part of the clearing had been ignited. Luckily, the flora wasn’t dry enough to start a forest fire and was simply smouldering while the fire extinguished itself.

The triceratops monster was chilling out no less than ten meters away from me. It was busy, happily slurping up the bodies of the ten or so losers Roderick’s stupid game had produced. Which included the two bodies the flamethrower attack had caused.

Its belly was already bulged out beyond what looked to be healthy, but it kept going anyway.

And then there were three more dead bodies further down the shore. Some explosion had taken them out. Also a skill of the monster? I didn’t know and I had no interest in testing the creature. Could the triceratops monster shoot rockets?

I didn’t want it to use whatever long-ranged attack had taken out the others to drive me out of the water. So I drew in another slow breath and returned to hugging my stone.

The next half an hour was agony as I regularly resurfaced for a short breath of air while I waited for the monster to finish its meal.

And the damned thing was a meat destroyer. It ate all the bodies on the shore, emptied the crate that was intended for us, and then waddled down the shoreline to get the other bodies.

There was no sign of my fellow exiles, but I guessed they had risked the forest instead of staying within easy reach of the monster.

It took at least an hour until I felt safe enough to crawl back on land.

Once back on the rocky shore, I had no idea how to proceed. Roderick was gone, the crate had been emptied, and I had gotten only one bite of whatever mystery meat was inside.

The only ones who still shared the shore with me were some of the damned pigeon-saurians who had pestered Roderick earlier. They were picking through whatever blood and gore the large monster had left behind.

I had the insane thought of catching one of them but sobered when I remembered Roderick hadn’t come close to touching a single one.

That was right up until I saw the injured one.

Its tail was wounded and it was dragging it after itself, attached by not much more than a strap of skin. Maybe it had been caught up in the explosion?

I looked in the direction, noting that it had been strong enough to take out a few branches of what was the equivalent of a tree.

I slowly knelt down and picked up a stone. Then I approached the little fucker who was cleaning out the crate. Somehow, it immediately noticed I was sneaking up on it. It stopped licking the blood from the crate and squawked, looking at me.

Seeing no other chance, I threw my stone – and missed.

The little saurian blurred and was right next to me, nipping at my heel.

My leg shook and seized up as the little monster electrocuted me!

“Arrgh!”

Flailing, I went down.

I could have sworn the saurian mocked me with a grin as it jumped right in front of my face and dashed off.

Cursing, I sat up, only to realize all the little saurians had left the shore for good now.

I allowed myself a moment of self-pity at my ill-thought-out plan of coming here. How had I expected to survive this place alone and without resources? I had been a fool. All I had accomplished was to die a fool's death in this horrendous world.

That was until I noticed the little tail lying next to me.

However fucked up it may seem, the lost appendage was a ray of hope in this blighted situation.