"This is it?" I said, squinting at the map, then squinting harder at the reality in front of me—like narrowing my eyes would magically spawn a chest, a tent, or at least a suspicious barrel of supplies.
I spread the map out wide. Then I turned it left.
Then right.
Then upside down.
Then I flipped it front to back, as if it were a reversible jacket hiding secrets.
Nothing changed.
I checked the landmark icon again.
Checked my surroundings again.
Checked the map again.
Still nothing.
I looked up.
A raft. One paddle. One fishing rod.
…That was it.
No food. No materials. No emergency rations. Not even a rock I could emotionally depend on.
"That's… that's all?" I whispered, my voice cracking slightly as betrayal set in. "No dried meat? No toolbox? No mysterious glowing orb labeled 'Do Not Touch'?"
Silence.
The raft bobbed gently on the shore.
I stared at the fishing rod. "Am I supposed to negotiate with the sea?"
