📜 READER RULES
"A Realm Where Cowards Get Lost Twice"
1. This story uses a system structure.
Not a tax system, not a coding system— a choice-based survival system.
And every choice has consequences. (Yes, even the stupid ones.)
2. You must be as honorable as a grandmaster in desert chess.
Once your finger touches a pawn—no takebacks.
No crying. No "I didn't mean it."
Live with your decision.
3. Do NOT read all paths.
You're not an omniscient deity. Choose one route and stay loyal.
If you peek at the others, the jinn will judge your commitment issues.
The protagonist's fate is now in your hands.
If they die, that's between you and your conscience.
Do not DM the author at 2 a.m. to blame the plot twist.
5. Confused? Terrified? Regretting your choices?
Perfect.
That means the system works.
Proceed.
6. You may laugh, scream, or re-evaluate your life choices.
You may NOT go back and redo the chapter.
This is not a dating sim.
This is destiny—with lag.
***
Rafi almost collapsed when he chose the right-hand path. The air changed instantly. Light stopped dead at the forest's edge—as if all three suns were afraid to touch this ground. He hitched Sahim higher on his back, his spine throbbing, his knees on the verge of giving up.
Sahim mumbled weakly,
"Bro… if I die… please delete all my ugly photos…"
"Shut up. We're not dead. Not yet."
The first step into Dhul-Wujūd felt like sinking into a well with no echo. But for the first time since they'd fallen into this place—the air felt like normal air.
Rafi inhaled.
Breaaaaathe.
Not half-delirious, not scented panic mixed with flowers.
His own breath.
Truly his.
He froze.
"Bro… this air… it's like being dropped back into a normal day."
Sahim, still drifting in the last leftover haze of the flowers, slowly opened his eyes. He stood—carefully, like a newborn fawn—and managed to stay upright.
His face changed.
No more stupid half-smiles.
No more panicked laughter.
Only…
Full awareness.
And full awareness hit him like a reality-check slap. Sahim grabbed his chest, breath catching.
"Bro… Wallah, my brain is back."
He tapped his temple lightly.
"Light… but not hallucinating.
Like getting hit by cold wudu water at Fajr—
chilly, but it wakes your life up."
Rafi watched him. There was gratitude there… but also worry. Because just when everything started feeling "normal"—the forest's silence became terrifying.
No wind.
No rustling.
No whispering illusions.
Only:
CRRK…
CLICK…
CRRK—CLICK…
The sound of some creature no longer bothering to hide, moving behind the trees—rhythmic, close, like something with hard bones walking slowly. Sahim swallowed. His face was pale. But his body felt light.
"Bro…" his voice shook,
"…my body feels fresher. But my heart… ya Allah… even more scared.
Worst combo ever."
Rafi nodded slightly, jaw tightening, every nerve on high alert.
"Good. We need fear.
If we weren't scared… we'd already be dead."
ZURQ crept a bit higher. The forest did not care.
Only two humans with short breaths… and something walking toward them, with terrifying confidence in each step.
Rafi tensed.
Sahim froze with him.
Then, in the middle of the most suffocating silence—
GROOOUUUK—
Rafi's stomach growled so loudly the moss on the tree trunks seemed to shiver. Sahim turned his head slowly, his expression a mix of fear, shock, and pity.
"Bro… by Allah…
was that your stomach or is there another creature inside you?"
Rafi shut his eyes, cheeks burning.
"That was… me, Sahim… I'm starving…"
Sahim panicked, whispering.
"Wait… where's your food?!
You said you were going to share your Ummi's shredded meat—?"
Rafi clutched his forehead.
"That's what I THREW to save our lives from the parallel-wolf pack, YA BAHLUL!
You wanted me to keep it in my bag while we die, huh?!"
Sahim gaped for a full five seconds, his hand automatically diving into his sling bag. His bread rolls were still there—half a bag. He looked at Rafi, then the bread, then the suffocatingly silent forest.
"Yaa RABB… so now we're being chased by monsters…"
He raised the bread like a piece of criminal evidence.
"…and you're starving to death…"
He pointed at the torn edge of the bag.
"…and your entire stash became their snack?!"
He covered his face.
"Bro… Wallahi… I don't know if you're a hero or an International-Class Bahlūl.
I'm torn between saying jazakallahu khair or just crying."
Sahim exhaled deeply.
"Bro… take it. I swear by Allah, I'm not hungry. My body feels crazy light."
He offered the bread with quiet resignation.
"Take it. You're the one who needs strength.
I'm scared you'll pass out… my back isn't as strong as yours, Bro."
Rafi wanted to refuse, but his stomach growled with the most humiliating sound of the day. He took the bread slowly.
"Syukran… seriously, this is life-saving."
Sahim didn't get to reply, because—
GRAAKH!!!
A creature's shriek ripped through the air. The ground around them quivered. A large shadow leapt between the trees, followed by the crackle of many small wings, like a flock of glass birds startled into flight.
The click-click sounds stopped immediately, cut clean out of the world. In the distance, something was dragged, and then… pressure-thick silence.
Sahim was still shaking from that scream. The forest was quiet again—not peaceful, but a silence that watched them. The blue moss-light along the trees held its glow, like it too was holding its breath.
"Bro…" Sahim whispered, voice cracking,
"…if that scream killed the click-click thing…
that means there's something even bigger, ya Rabb…"
Rafi opened his mouth to comfort him—or to lie to both of them—
KRAK.
His foot landed in the wrong spot. He slipped, pitching forward hard.
THUD.
Sahim reflexively tried to catch him, and of course, failed.
"RAFI! Astaghfirullah—bro don't die yet! I'm not ready to be the main lead!"
Rafi groaned, grabbing his ankle. Something hard lay under him. He felt around… and his body went stiff.
Not a root.
A fossil.
A massive transparent bone, curved like the bow of some ancient beast—trapped in glass. Rafi's fall had opened the wound on his ankle. Blood dripped slowly. The moment it hit the ground—
zrrk—ZRAAK—
Lines of light in the soil seemed to wake, fanning out in all directions like a circuit flickering on for the first time. Blue moss along the trunks pulsed brighter. The air hummed faintly—as if the forest had recognized the scent of human blood.
The bow-shaped fossil beside him trembled.
Softly.
Then more.
Until thin shards of glass flaked off its surface.
"Bro…" Sahim's voice shook,
"…that's not alive, right? Please tell me it's the wind. Please."
The thing lifted, hovering a few centimeters above the ground—turning to face Rafi's arm, as if making a choice.
Rafi held his breath. Sahim held his iman.
In a single second that felt like a year—
CHINK—
The object shot forward. Not to pierce.
It vanished right before touching Rafi's skin, exploding into countless fragments of light that sank into his flesh. On his arm, a small bow-shaped mark appeared, glowing faintly like moonlit ink.
Sahim froze, his mouth half open.
"Bro…"
"Bro."
"…that looks like a sudden power-mark…
like that anime scene where the MC gets a mysterious power-up…
BUT BRO—IS THIS EVEN HALAL?!"
Rafi didn't answer. He just stared at his arm—somewhere between horror, disbelief, and a flicker of hope he didn't dare confess. The bow-shaped tattoo pulsed gently, as if it had just finished breathing.
The hope lasted only half a second. Because the giant fossil beside them…
the one that had trembled…
the one that had "lived" for a split second…
Now its cracks spread further.
Slowly.
Softly.
But enough to raise every hair on their bodies.
Sahim tensed.
"Bro…"
He pointed at the fossil with a shaking finger.
"If… if it moved because of your blood…
and if it wakes up full version—we're the appetizer platter, Bro."
krak… krak… krak…
The sound of glass splitting itself. Rafi jolted into full panic.
"Bro… R-U-N!! Not here. We have to go. NOW!!!"
The ground around the fossil trembled lightly.
They met each other's eyes.
They ran.
No words needed.
Once they'd put some distance between themselves and the fossil, Rafi started to wobble. His body trembled. His breathing came short and sharp. Blood dripped from the wound on his leg, making the ground gleam faintly with each fall.
Sahim saw it. His pupils blew wide. He stepped closer—one step… another… until his own breath mixed with Rafi's ragged gasps. His hand lifted, hesitant, like he was afraid of touching something burning. His lips twitched; he wanted to swear at him, but worry choked the words.
"Bro…" his voice was soft, broken.
He swallowed hard—loud enough to hear. Without another word, Sahim dropped to his knees in front of Rafi, like he'd just decided he was ready to carry the whole world on his back if that's what it took to keep Rafi alive.
"Bro… get on."
His voice was rough but firm. Rafi shook his head weakly.
"No… y-you're… you're tired…"
Sahim hissed, flicking his hand in the air like an aunt scolding a stubborn child.
"Ya Rafi… LISTEN TO ME."
He shook Rafi gently—once, twice—as if checking whether his friend was still "inside" that blank stare.
"If you die here,"
Sahim's finger jabbed shakily at Rafi's chest,
"your Ummi is going to show up in my dreams—every night—holding a sandal."
He scrubbed his own face, frustrated. Then shoved Rafi upward, arms wrapping around his waist, half lifting, half forcing him.
"So PLEASE… get on."
Sahim lifted his gaze, breathing hard.
"Bro… don't turn me into the second lead who gets left behind alive, please…"
Rafi actually chuckled, despite his pale face.
"Bro… I swear… you'd make a good husband for Amina."
Sahim glared.
"I'll be her Ex if you don't get on right now."
He hauled Rafi up onto his back. Rafi was heavy—not like a burden, but like a friend he'd dragged through too many messes already.
Even in pain, Rafi managed a bitter smile.
"Tthanks, akhi."
"Don't love me. This is just survival mode."
They reached a tree. Not exactly a tree, but a giant mushroom, low and broad; its cap curved like a roof, its stem thick and sturdy. Its texture looked like the skin of some sleeping creature, rising and falling faintly with breath.
Rafi stared up, panting.
Sahim braced him.
"Climb, Bro. I'm serious. Land predators don't like spots like this."
His voice was soft but frantic—that familiar mix of fear-of-loss and fake bravado.
Rafi climbed, slowly, hands shaking, body dragging from the wound. A low branch welcomed him like an old arm making room for rest. As he settled onto it, the mushroom-tree creaked softly—not as a threat, but like a long exhale.
Sahim dropped back down to the ground.
Silence swallowed the forest.
This place ate sound. The farther he walked, the louder his own heartbeat seemed—thud… thud… thud…
Until finally, he heard it: trickling water.
He held his breath.
A river spread out before him.
The water was clear—too clear.
Every ripple moved like liquid glass shifting under the hand of wind.
Sahim crouched.
Flower trauma still clung to the back of his brain like an alarm.
"Drink? No. Not yet. I'm not risking deluxe version hallucinations with pee-camel visions."
He carefully pushed aside some branches. The air near the river felt different—colder, more ordered. As if every water molecule was counting its steps. He watched in silence. His knees shook, but his eyes sharpened.
The bushes trembled lightly. A small creature emerged: like a tiny gazelle made of glass shards and threads of light. Cracks ran along its body. The little creature lowered its head. When its muzzle touched the surface—the light inside it trembled.
The fractures in its body started to knit—
like glass being resealed by a warm breath.
Its movements softened.
Its head drooped a little… and the tiny creature stood there, almost asleep on its feet.
Sahim instinctively held his breath. He leaned closer, so slowly that even the leaves beneath his sandal seemed to stop moving.
"…Subḥanallah…"
His voice was thin, almost wind.
"Bro… the effect is like…
being hugged by a cold pillow after a day in boiling heat.
Wallah, it looks so comfortable…"
He inhaled, but his eyes stayed sharp.
Danger.
A twig snapped on the opposite side. Another creature appeared—bigger. Like a long-bodied civet with silver fur, its body pulsing with each breath. This one looked healthy, agile, slightly aggressive.
It drank—greedily.
A few gulps.
Then its neck stiffened.
Muscles under its skin spasmed violently.
Its body fought itself.
It crashed to the side, convulsing.
Foam gathered at its mouth. The light in its eyes dimmed. It didn't die…
But it didn't get back up either.
Sahim clapped a hand over his mouth, face drained of color. He stepped back once, terrified that even the sound of his breathing would summon something worse.
"Bro…" he whispered to himself,
"this water… is like a judgment test."
He edged closer again. His eyes narrowed. One crucial thing clicked:
"Bro… if two different creatures get two different effects…"
He lifted his index finger, doing that fake-scientist pose even while his knees shook.
"…that means this water is smart, Wallah. It scans first, then decides what buff to give."
He frowned theatrically.
"Like… water with an algorithm.
AI in liquid form. Aqua-Intelligence."
But he needed proof.
"Ya Rabb… for Rafi… for Ummi Rafi who'll haunt my dreams if he dies…"
He tore a bit of fabric from his shirt, twisting it into a makeshift cup. His hands trembled half from fear, half from the faint clicking still echoing far behind.
Face scrunched like a man about to get pinched by a jinn, he lowered the cloth—
slow—slower—SLOW—
to the water's surface.
No skin contact.
No splash on him.
Not even the mist.
The cloth soaked up the blue-tinted water. Tiny sparks of light flickered along its threads. Sahim yanked it away, holding it far from his body.
"If it explodes… at least it's not my face first, ya Rabb."
He shut his eyes for a fraction. Then—plip—he dripped ONE tiny drop onto his own wound. The effect rose like someone turning up the TV volume slowly:
The cut closed.
Not instantly, not superhero-style.
Slowly… neatly… as if his skin had been scheduled for overnight overtime.
His shoulder sagged, losing a sliver of strength. His eyelids drooped slightly.
"Bro… MasyaAllah…" his voice was hoarse but awed.
"…this water heals."
He braced his hand against his knee.
"…but it also makes you sleepy like Fajr adhan in winter. Ya Allah…"
After a moment—his eyes lit up slightly, like he'd found a world bug they might be able to exploit.
"Rafi… we've got hope, Bro. Small… but real."
He filled a bottle, tying it with a strip from his bisht. Before leaving, he glanced at the first creature—the little gazelle.
The glass-gazelle was still asleep while standing. Completely peaceful. It even snored softly, like a fan on low mode. The civet-like creature lay on its side, still out—but breathing steadily, its fur hardening into something like light armor.
Sahim pointed at them both, whispering:
"InsyaAllah… I promise I'll come back to check on you. But my friend needs me more right now."
Then he jogged back toward Rafi—carrying water that might save them… or put them to sleep right when a monster attacked.
***
Up in the mushroom-tree, Rafi blinked slowly. The wound in his leg throbbed like it had been bitten by ice. His breath was heavy, his vision spinning, his body shaking though the air wasn't cold.
Then—
Soft wingbeats.
A small bird—oval-bodied, feathers like layers of thin glass, multi-layered transparent wings—circled the branch where he sat.
It had too many eyes.
Not threatening.
But not normal.
Rafi gripped the edge of the mushroom cap, his fingers digging into the fibrous surface like it was his last lifeline.
"Don't… don't come closer… ya Rabb… don't—"
The bird glided nearer. Its translucent wings trembled softly, catching the light like wet glass. Those many eyes—far too many for any normal creature—focused on Rafi. Not angry, not predatory… just curious.
Rafi panicked.
No branches.
No rocks.
No weapons.
All he had—was a small flake of mushroom bark peeled up beside him. In desperately human fashion, he grabbed it—like someone hurling their only sandal at a thief.
"DON'T COME ANY—AHH!"
He swung the shard at the bird on reflex.
His movement was too fast.
Spontaneous.
Laced with fear.
And in that instant—
The bow tattoo on his arm flared.
Light burst.
SWIIP—!!
An arrow of energy shot from his hand, piercing the bird's leg. The bird spun and tumbled downward.
FLUP!
Rafi froze for a full five seconds.
"YA RABB… WHAT DID I JUST SHOOT?!"
Sahim arrived, running, a leaf-bundle of water in his hands.
"Bro! I found a river! And I saw—"
He stopped cold.
He stared at the struggling bird.
At the tattoo on Rafi's arm.
At Rafi's panicked face.
"…Bro. You evolved.
Like a Pokémon.
But, like… the pious version."
Rafi covered his face with both hands. His heart was racing faster than his thoughts. The bird didn't try to flee. It curled in on itself, confused, feathers trembling like clinking glass.
On that giant mushroom, Rafi shivered. The wound in his leg pulsed—stinging, but no longer bleeding. The river water Sahim had dabbed earlier was starting to work: his skin sealed over in a thin new layer, still pale, its cold sinking into his bones.
Not healed.
But enough to hold together.
GROOOUUUK…
The sound shattered the forest's silence again.
Rafi's stomach.
Even louder now.
Like a tiny lion protesting the terms of existence.
Sahim stared down, face caught between panic and… sorrow.
"Bro… ya Rabb… is that your stomach or the call of death?"
Rafi buried his face in his hands.
"I… I'm so hungry… I'm hungry enough my stomach sounds like the Isya adhan."
The bird—
its leg still pierced by that arrow of light—
blinked slowly, tilting, but making no move to escape.
Instead, it looked at them like a confused kitten.
Sahim swallowed.
"Bro… don't look at me like that. I'm confused too…"
He placed a hand over his chest, trembling.
"Are we going barbaric… or staying civilized…?"
Silence.
Rafi opened his eyes slowly. His face was pale, cold sweat sliding down his temples. He looked at the little bird curled there, the only visible source of calories.
"Bro… I don't want to die hungry."
He stared at the bird.
"But… I also don't want to eat it…"
In his head, two possibilities surfaced at once—both wrong, both demanding a choice.
1 —Cook the Bird
You'll be full… if it isn't poisonous. And if you can bring yourself to slaughter it with makeshift tools… and, of course, if its mother doesn't show up three times human size.
2 —Treat the Bird
Maybe it'll become a tiny useful ally… or evolve into something more dangerous, or show up later with a whole flock that thinks you're free veterinary service.
—To be Continued—