"He saw what looked like the back of a skull poking out from the top of a stone block."
Harry froze. The flickering light from his torch painted faint shadows along the uneven wall, and for a moment, he thought it was just another oddly shaped rock. Then it moved. The motion was stiff, deliberate, mechanical.
As the figure straightened, his breath caught.
It was a skeleton. Not a person — not a body — but a full, upright skeleton made entirely of smooth, pale bone. It stood motionless for a second, then gave a faint clack as its head twitched slightly to the side.
Harry crouched low, instinctively quiet. Whatever this thing was, it didn't look alive, but it wasn't falling apart either. It had no eyes, no flesh, no muscle — just bone held together by nothing he could see.
He took a careful step forward, slow and silent. From what he could tell, the thing held nothing in its hands. Maybe if he stayed quiet— The skeleton's skull suddenly jerked.
It turned toward him, empty sockets locking onto his position as if it could see without eyes.
For a heartbeat, Harry didn't move. Then, in the space of a blink — the creature's hands lifted, and a bow simply appeared in its grip, forming from thin air as if the world itself had decided it belonged there.
Harry's breath hitched. He didn't understand.
But instinct screamed before reason could.
He threw himself to the left— A high-pitched hiss cut through the air, followed by a sharp sting in his right arm.
He gasped, jerking in pain. It wasn't unbearable — just a burning, needle-like strike that faded quickly but was still sharp enough to make him flinch.
He glanced down — four of the small red hearts in the corner of his vision flickered and vanished.
He didn't have time to think. The skeleton drew again — impossibly fast, the bowstring creaking.
He stumbled toward the shadows, another arrow flying — this one striking deep into his back. The same sudden sting, stronger this time, leaving a ghost of pain that quickly dulled.
Five more hearts blinked out, leaving only one pulsing faintly at the edge of his vision.
Harry ran. His shoes struck the stone, echoing through the tunnel. He turned a corner, reaching for the torchlight ahead—
A third arrow hissed through the dark.
He twisted instinctively, but the arrow brushed his arm — not deep, but enough.
The last heart dimmed and disappeared.
A wave of heat and light rushed through him.
His body flashed crimson, every line of his vision turning red as this happened his body fell down on its side, and then, in a blinding burst, he broke apart. His form dissolved into small cubes of light, scattering like dust in the air.
His items — everything he carried — dropped to the stone below.
Then… nothing.
Stillness.
The world stopped moving.
Harry's eyes snapped open. The factory roof stretched above him, cracked and rusted. The sound of the real world returned — faint wind through metal, distant night insects. He sat up sharply, breathing fast, heart pounding.
His arm still tingled faintly, like the ghost of the arrow's sting lingered just beneath the skin.
The pain was gone, but not forgotten.
He checked himself over — no blood, no wounds. He was alive.
Then faint text appeared before his eyes, softly glowing in the dark:
[You have died.]
[Respawn Cooldown: 4 hours]
[World Status: Temporarily Frozen]
Harry winced as a dull ache throbbed behind his eyes — the same pressure he always felt when the world pulled or pushed him between places. He sat still until it passed, then let out a shaky breath.
"So that's… what dying feels like," he muttered quietly.
He'd died — and yet, he was still here. Still breathing. The memory of the skeleton's arrows burned in his mind. He could feel the precision in its aim, the way it had tracked him perfectly, as if it knew exactly where he'd move.
He wasn't ready for that. Not yet. He waited until the ache faded completely, then forced himself to stand. Checking his inventory he saw everything was gone, he would have to get it back when he could reenter the block world. But for now if he couldn't enter the other world, he could still work here.
The rest of the night passed in rhythm — metal scraping, the echo of dragging debris, the slow creation of order from chaos. By dusk, half the factory floor was cleared, and a few neat piles of scrap sat near the edges. It wasn't perfect, but it was progress.
As the sun was setting again, Harry paused beside the old factory furnace, rubbing his arm absently where the first arrow had struck.
A box appeared before him [respawn cooldown over, world has now been unfrozen]
The faint hum built around him — the unmistakable pull.
He closed his eyes as the world slipped away.
When Harry opened them again, he was standing outside — not in the cave, but in the small clearing where he had cut down his very first tree. The stump was still there, weathered and familiar.
The air was calm, the soft rustle of grass and the faint buzz of insects surrounding him. He could almost believe nothing had happened.
Almost.
"So this is… respawning," he murmured, glancing toward the distant cave entrance glowing faintly in the evening light.
He took a steadying breath and started toward it. Each step felt more deliberate this time — quieter, sharper, cautious.
The cave was as he remembered: torchlight flickering along the walls, the faint echo of dripping water somewhere deep within.
When he reached the spot where he had fallen, he stopped.
His items were scattered across the stone, faintly glowing in the dim light like scattered embers. And deeper in the tunnel — movement. The skeleton. It stood further back this time, half-shrouded by shadow, its bow lowered but ready.
Harry didn't hesitate. He sprinted forward, the soft plops of items reentering his inventory sounding with each step.
Before the skeleton could react, he reached into his inventory, grabbed a stack of oak planks, and slammed them down at the tunnel mouth.
Thunk. Thunk.
Two quick blocks block the line of sight between him and the skeleton then 4 planks sealed the sides of the opening with the last plank going above the first two completely sealing the opening, the sound of wood placing on stone creating a sense of protection.
Harry leaned against the rough wall, breathing hard. From the other side came a faint clack-clack of bone — then silence.
He stayed there for a moment, the faint light of his torch reflecting off the wood barrier.
He'd survived this time — barely. He exhaled slowly, straightening. This world wasn't forgiving. But its rules were clear.
He just needed to learn and master them. He looked down at his hand, flexing it slowly. He would get stronger. All he needed was resources.
Perhaps it's time to check what recipes he has unlocked and see if anything will help.