Chapter 1 - The Forgotten Summoning

## Chapter 1: The Forgotten Summoning
Kenji Tanaka’s world revolved around simple things: towering stacks of books beside his bed, the blue glow of his laptop screen in the darkness, and the ever-present aroma of instant noodles filling his small room. Today was no different. Dim afternoon light crept through half-closed curtains, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air and the latest manga volume spread open on his lap. One hand held the manga, the other deftly scooped warm fried noodles from a bowl adorned with anime characters.
Hmm, this protagonist is too rigid. If I were him, I’d definitely… Kenji thought, his eyes scanning panel after panel. His messy black hair brushed against his glasses. His social life could be summed up in one word: nonexistent. Friends? More like passing acquaintances in class. The outside world? More terrifying than a final boss battle in an RPG. His room was his fortress; books and stories were his escape.
As his spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl, leaving only a trace of oily broth, something strange happened. The air in the room vibrated. Not an ordinary vibration, but something deeper, like a giant string plucked in a vacuum. His glasses suddenly felt heavy, his vision blurred. The laptop screen on his desk began flickering with an unnatural white light – not emanating from the monitor itself, but seemingly from the surrounding air.
“Huh?” he mumbled, clumsily setting aside the manga and noodle bowl. “A short circuit?”
Before he could react further, the white light exploded. Not a loud blast, but a sudden and total absorption. Kenji felt himself hurled at unimaginable speed, his body crushed by unseen forces. The hiss of instant noodles and the laptop fan vanished, replaced by the whisper of wind… and something else. The sound of foliage far larger and thicker than he’d ever heard.
He landed hard on something damp and yielding. No longer on his bean bag chair, but on a thick cushion of moss that smelled of earth and decaying vegetation. The blinding white light slowly faded, revealing a sight that nearly stopped his heart.
He was surrounded by giant trees. Trunks wider than cars soared upwards towards a sky visible only as slivers of greenish light far above an impossibly dense canopy that turned midday into twilight. The air hung heavy, humid, thick with the scent of strange flowers and rotting meat. The buzz of giant insects filled the air, and from the distance came the howl of an unknown creature, deep and bone-chilling.
“Wh-where?” Kenji’s voice was hoarse with disbelief. His hand fumbled for his glasses, miraculously still on his face, though askew. He still wore his faded game-character t-shirt and shorts. Clutched unconsciously in his hand was the plastic spoon from his instant noodles.
Somewhere beyond Kenji’s comprehension, in a place without time or form, a pair of eyes radiating celestial light gazed downwards. They belonged to Arion, one of the Guardian Deities tasked with summoning chosen souls to become heroes in a world called Eldoria – a world teetering on the brink of annihilation by the Demon King Morgrath.
Chosen souls… great potential… shining inner strength… Arion’s thoughts whispered like wind through golden leaves. He had just completed summoning a group of souls from Kenji’s world – athletic, charismatic, popular youths, souls shining with confidence and physical energy. Perfect souls to be forged into Eldoria’s sword and shield.
As his consciousness swept Kenji’s dimension, Arion saw only a thin teenager, buried in books, isolated, his life aura dim and… utterly average. No spark of common magical potential, no aura of leadership, no outstanding physical aptitude. Just weariness and detachment.
Minor glitch. Residual resonance from the group summoning earlier, Arion thought with mild distaste. Useless. Not worth wasting Divine energy or Eldoria’s time. Rather than cancel the summoning – which required more effort – Arion callously decided to discard the ‘trash’. A wispy finger of light pointed towards the map of Eldoria spread before him, selecting the most ‘fitting’ location for this unwanted soul: The Grimoire Forbidden Forest.
That’s where Kenji now found himself.
Cold sweat beaded on Kenji’s temples. Every instinct screamed that this place was wrong. Dangerously wrong. He tried to stand, his legs trembling on the slick moss. A sudden rustling came from a bush with leaves as wide as plates to his left. He froze, his blood running cold.
From behind the foliage, a creature crawled out. It was the size of a large dog but insectoid, with a glossy blue-black carapace and six spindly, pointed legs anchoring it to the ground. Its compound eyes, like black diamonds, reflected Kenji’s terrified form. A beak-like mouth emitted a sharp hiss, releasing a pungent, acidic smell.
Monster! The thought slammed into Kenji like a physical blow. All the isekai stories, all the manga he’d read, swarmed his head, but nothing prepared him for fear this real, this visceral. He scrambled back, tripped over a root, and landed flat on his back. The plastic spoon in his hand shook uncontrollably.
The creature hissed again, its body coiling low as if to pounce. Its pointed legs scratched at the damp earth. Kenji squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for inevitable pain, his body tensing like wire.
But the pain didn’t come.
He opened his eyes halfway. The insectoid creature hadn’t moved. Stranger still, its compound eyes were no longer fixed on him. They seemed… confused? Its head swiveled left and right, as if detecting something else. Then, with a sudden jerk that made Kenji flinch, the creature let out a short hiss that sounded almost… perplexed, before turning and scuttling back into the underbrush, vanishing instantly.
The abrupt silence felt more terrifying than the creature’s sounds. Kenji lay there, his heart pounding in his ears, his breath ragged. Why did it leave? Was there a bigger predator? Or…?
He looked down at his hand, still clutching the plain white plastic spoon. Nothing special. Just an ordinary spoon. Yet, a fragmented memory surfaced – as the creature approached, Kenji had unconsciously pointed the spoon towards it, like a ridiculous little shield. That’s when it had stopped and seemed confused.
No way, he thought, dismissing the idea. Just a coincidence. Or I’m dead and hallucinating.
Shaking, he pushed himself up to sit. Every sound in the forest now felt like a lurking threat. He had to get out. But where? The forest seemed endless, and he had no supplies, no weapons, no survival knowledge beyond what he’d read in novels.
As he crawled towards the base of the nearest giant tree for scant cover, something bizarre happened. When his back touched the rough bark, a tiny, peculiar stream of information suddenly flowed into his mind. Not words, but… sensations. The sensation of the tree’s immense age, its deep tranquility, and… a faint sliver of disbelief? As if the tree felt his presence and was slightly startled.
Kenji jerked away from the tree, eyes wide. “What the…?” he whispered, his voice barely audible. It had to be his imagination running wild from panic. Trauma from the isekai event and the monster. That was all.
But a seed of doubt was planted. Kenji stared at his empty hand, then at the plastic spoon still gripped tightly – the last remnant of his lost world. Amidst the paralyzing fear and profound confusion, an absurd question began to wriggle in his mind, so ludicrous it almost made him want to laugh hysterically: Is… is this instant noodle spoon… something special?
He shook his head vigorously, trying to clear his thoughts. Survival. That was the only objective now. He had to find a way out of this Forbidden Forest. Dismissing the strange sensation and the creature’s baffling retreat, Kenji Tanaka, the bookworm NEET, took a deep, still-trembling breath. Carefully, he began to crawl along the base of the giant tree, skirting the edge of what seemed like slightly sparser undergrowth, his eyes darting warily for moving shadows, his ears straining for every suspicious hiss or crackle. The long, dark journey through a strange and lethal world had begun, armed only with his fear… and a plastic spoon.