The Formidable Desert
The man awoke to an unforgiving landscape — he was alone in a vast, scorching desert stretching endlessly in all directions. The sun hung mercilessly overhead, driving its heat like needles into his skin.
He forced his body upright and staggered forward, parched and starving.
Days passed, his footsteps growing heavier with each step; his desperation mounting.
Then one morning he noticed on the ground, half-buried beneath the shifting sands, a piece of paper barely fluttering in the feeble breeze. Upon inspection, he saw the title Instruction Manual engraved in bold letters. He flipped it over to find densely packed words, small and obscure, demanding patience and effort to read.
But hunger gnawed at him with vicious persistence, and the will to decipher the paper's message vanished. His trembling hands tore the paper apart, his lips consuming it in desperate bites.
It sustained him — barely.
Like a Mirage
One day, as his aching eyes were scanning the shimmering horizon ahead, a structure began to emerge into view — a glinting vision against the background of the barren desert.
A mirage? Or something tangible?
He stumbled toward it.
A large building resembling an elegant home stood alone, defying its surroundings.
It appeared to be unoccupied, as if abandoned. His curiosity impelled an inspection.
Inside, it was paradise: the home contained an endless supply of food and water, limitless power, and multiple floors brimming with luxuries — entertainment rooms, exercise equipment, an advanced computer system with access to unlimited knowledge.
Everything was exquisite.
The man set about indulging wildly, each day a feast, every room a revelation of pleasure and abundance.
It seemed the delights would never end.
He Began to Weaken
Then one day, abruptly, he fell sick. A mysterious illness crept in like an unseen shadow. His body faltered — his strength drained. Panic began to overtake him.
Frantic, he scoured the building's archives for a cure, searching through countless resources. Yet he found none — no explanation, no clues, no escape from his decline.
He lingered for many days. As his body withered, his breath grew shallow, his mind dulled with pain. He sensed that he was dying.
And yet, with his final hours approaching, he didn't ponder the most crucial questions:
Who had built this home? Why was it here? What was its purpose?
Was I here as a guest — or a tenant?
The Basement
His desperate, failing condition compelled a frantic search through the dim confines of the building's lower floors. His eyes surveyed the cold stone floor until he observed the faintest irregularity — a seam barely visible at the lowest point. His fingers traced its outline, rough and splintered, confirming what he already suspected: a hidden trapdoor.
His pulse pounded in his ears as he wedged a metal bar beneath the heavy wooden slab, forcing it open with a protesting creak. A breath of stagnant air curled upward, thick with earthen secrets. Below, the chamber yawned, vast and empty, its depths swallowed in ink-black shadow. A spiral staircase twisted downwards into the depths of ever increasing darkness.
Steadying his breath, he stepped forward and began to descend.
The steps emerged into a room, darkly lit, to which his eyes were compelled to adjust. His vision wavered, adapting to the subdued glow that barely held back the darkness.
As his awareness sharpened, he noticed the room was empty, except for a solitary table in the centre. The table was old and withered by time; its surface was engraved with indelible words, deep and unsettling:
“We hope you have found happiness in this home, and that you have a long and satisfying life.
But heed this advice above all else:
The dangers within this building are beyond count.
You must avoid them.
The Instruction Manual is your guide.
Read it.
Understand it.
Follow it.
It will save your life.”
Alone in a hot, dry, formidable desert
An exquisite home
An endless supply of food, water, and power
The room was large and unfurnished
— except for a table in the centre
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