"You know, this reminds me of when I played Fallout 3," Alex thought with a bitter smile as the wind whipped against his face. "Scavenging bodies to survive... I never thought I'd apply video game logic to real life."
Alex pushed his Mecha Beast to its top speed. Despite being a machine with legs rather than wheels, he handled it with surprising familiarity. His years of experience riding his motorcycle had gifted him the sense of balance and reflexes necessary to master the metal beast.
He couldn't help but be fascinated by the transition in his environment. He had left behind that bioluminescent forest, which reminded him of the jungles of Pandora from the movie Avatar, only to venture into arid, rocky terrain. The contrast was absolute: from vibrant life to inert stone.
As he moved forward, he began to slow down. In the distance, the irregular shapes of nature gave way to straight lines and artificial lights. Civilization.
Cautiously, he began to map out a mental plan.
"First: information. Second: food and water. I need to not drop dead from dehydration before I figure out what the hell is going on here."
Upon entering the town, the architecture struck him immediately. The buildings were strange, a blend of industrial technology and structures hewn directly from the rock itself. They weren't ugly, but they were curious—functional and robust.
As he rode through on the back of his hyena-model Mecha Beast, he noticed passersby staring at him. Their gazes lingered a moment longer than normal, likely drawn to his clothes from "The Surface" or perhaps his hair color. However, no one held eye contact for more than five seconds; in places like this, staring too hard at a stranger was usually an invitation for trouble.
Alex decided to dismount and walk. He approached several market stalls, asking about prices under the guise of being a clueless traveler. His goal was to familiarize himself with the local economy and culture.
"How much for the water? And that tool?" he asked, calculating mentally.
His need for information was being sated, but paradoxically, his anxiety grew. Every answer confirmed a darker reality.
He discovered that gold was the universal currency; simple, heavy, and versatile. He also found out his exact location: Herringbone Cavern.
"One of the ninety-nine caverns of Slugterra," he repeated mentally, reciting the information he'd heard from a merchant. "And, as the name implies, we are literally slugs under the earth."
But what truly chilled his blood was understanding the social structure.
"There is no government," he concluded with concern as he walked away from the market. "No police, no public hospitals, no emergency number."
Every cavern seemed to look after itself—or rather, every inhabitant looked out for their own skin. The closest thing to a "force of order" he heard mentioned in fearful whispers was the company of a powerful man forming some sort of private army. But that didn't sound like protection; it sounded like a dictatorship.
"How the hell have these people survived until now?" he wondered, feeling the weight of his own vulnerability.
The conclusion was terrifying: anarchy reigned. It meant anyone could do whatever they wanted if they had enough strength. Slugterra was a dangerous place, ruled by the law of the fittest.
Alex instinctively tightened his grip on his backpack, where he carried the few slugs and supplies he had managed to get.
"I have to tread carefully," he thought, sharpening his senses. "I don't want some local gang stealing the little I have. Down here, being weak is a death sentence."
With the pragmatism of someone with no other choice, Alex decided to make his first commercial transaction. He traded two of the slugs he had scavenged for a small pouch of gold. He had no idea about the current exchange rate; he didn't know if he had undersold them for pennies or if he had scammed the merchant with a high price. He simply calculated the weight of gold needed to buy basic provisions and crossed his fingers.
After the exchange, Alex retreated to a secluded spot to take inventory and organize himself. His current situation was precarious but manageable: he possessed a Hyena-type Mecha Beast (robust and fast), and now he had 8 slugs left.
He examined them with curiosity. Six of them were a vibrant yellow with red dots; judging by the way they hit the ground, he deduced they functioned like wrecking balls or explosive grenades. The other two were red with small blue horns. Additionally, he had food and water for two days, provided he stuck to strict rationing.
"Alright, Alex. Minimal resources. Now, what's the plan?"
His main objective was immovable: return home. But the how was an insurmountable wall. What would he have to do to achieve it? Magic? Ancient technology?
For the moment, his immediate purpose was to survive and gather intel, specifically regarding the phenomenon of "people appearing out of nowhere." However, he decided not to stay in the town. Sleeping in an inn without knowing the local rules was risking an attack by some lunatic or thief in his sleep.
Alex moved a safe distance away from the town and set up a makeshift camp under the shelter of some rock formations. That night, the cold of the cavern wasn't the only thing keeping him awake. He wondered if, in the future, he would have to steal to get more gold.
"I need resources to escape this place," he whispered to the darkness. "Something in this world brought me here, and that same 'something' will have to take me out. If I have to explore all 99 cavernas to find it, I will."
It was one of the worst nights of his life, filled with strange noises and the crushing loneliness of being in another universe.
The next morning, with dark circles under his eyes but fueled by determination, he set his plan in motion. The day before, he had tried asking in the markets, but he realized that real information doesn't flow among vegetables and tools. Gossip, legends, and crazy stories have only one home: the bars.
After asking for directions, Alex arrived at the local tavern. He entered with the hope of finding a lead, but reality was a cold shower.
Although he tried to be as cordial as possible, his questions about "interdimensional travelers" or "magic people" only earned him hostile glares and threats.
"Go to hell, kid. Keep spouting nonsense and you'll end up in a ditch," a customer with a sour face warned him.
Just as he was about to give up, a raspy voice stopped him. Or rather, the lack of rejection from one particular person.
"Kid, what kind of questions are those?"
It was a guy sitting at the bar, hunched over his glass, speaking without even turning around.
"I'm looking for information about people who appear out of nowhere," Alex replied, approaching cautiously and sitting on the adjacent stool.
"I haven't heard anything that crazy... but I have heard something similar," the man said with a calm, tired voice, slurring his words due to the alcohol.
Alex bought him another round to loosen his tongue and, after talking for a while, managed to extract information worth more than all the gold he carried. That man, old and disheveled, carried a heavy story.
He told him that, years ago, he had a friend named Will Shane.
"Will was the best of us," the old man murmured. "But he disappeared mysteriously. Vanished. And the last man to see him was Blakk."
The name Blakk resonated in Alex's mind like a warning.
The old man continued his tale, confessing how that disappearance became his obsession. He had gone out searching, wasting his fortune and his life. He tried to confront Blakk, but the tycoon was untouchable; if he didn't want you near, it was impossible to get to him. He even tried contacting the feared Shadow Clan in search of mystical answers.
"That senseless search... cost me everything," the man said, staring at the bottom of his glass. "It separated me from my little daughter. I haven't seen her in years. I'm afraid to look for her, afraid she won't want anything to do with a drunk old man obsessed with ghosts."
The man finished his drink and slumped unconscious onto the bar, defeated by liquor and memories.
Alex left the bar, leaving the old man sleeping. The air in the cavern felt heavier now that he had a direction.
"I know what to do with this info," he thought, climbing onto his Mecha Beast. "I'll put the Shadow Clan on the back burner; I don't have the strength or the slugs to deal with mystical creatures that kidnap people."
He ignited the hyena's silent engine and looked toward the cavern's dark horizon.
"I have to ask this Blakk guy what the hell happened to the last Shane. If anyone knows how to make people disappear... or how to bring them back, it's him."