You awaken to a rasping breath of cold air in a dim cavern lit only by a guttering greenish luminescence from bioluminescent fungus along damp walls. The ground is slick with moss and a thin layer of frost. Sharp stalactites hang overhead, dripping to form small icy pools. A ruined campfire smolders nearby, ashes still warm to the touch, with half-broken crates and a rusted dagger half-buried in ash. Beyond a ragged tunnel you glimpse a valley shrouded in mist, where distant silhouettes move like wary beasts. Your head throbs with a dull ache, and your stomach growls with hunger. You have 100 health. The air tastes of iron and smoke, and every sound—drip, distant howl, a creature scrape—seems charged with danger. Your survival depends on finding shelter, warmth, and a source of food or a tool to navigate this perilous world.