Chapter 1

There’s no sound.

No light. No color. No… anything.

But I exist.

…I think?

Strange.

Something feels off. It’s like I’m floating. Or falling. Or just there. My body is present but out of sync, like I’m lagging behind reality.

My eyes are still shut. Or at least, I think they are. I can't seem to open them, and for some reason, I’m not sure if I should.

My thoughts drift in slow, syrupy waves. Everything feels heavy. Sluggish. Like I’m thinking underwater. I try to move anything, an arm, a finger, but nothing responds. Still, I feel something. A presence. A pressure. Limbs that should be there.

So… I’m alive?

Or is this what comes after?

My chest tightens. Maybe this is death. Maybe my body gave up, and now I’m stuck in some eternal limbo trapped with my thoughts, unable to do anything but exist.

Forever.

Just me, and the regrets.

I should’ve done more. Been bolder. Lived differently. All those little choices I was too afraid to make. Now I’m stuck with nothing but what-ifs.

But it doesn’t feel like death. It feels… off. Wrong, but not entirely gone.

I see... so have I reincarnated into another world then?

The thought slips in so casually I almost miss it. But then I look down at my pale, sausage-shaped fingers and faint bruise on the knuckles of my left hand.

This sensation… it’s unlike anything I’ve ever known.

I try again to move. Still nothing. But I can sense my body.

Then I hear something.

Birds?

Birds. Chirping.

Not pigeons cooing?

Okay… ears are working. That’s a good sign. That means I’m probably not dead.

Maybe a coma?

Maybe I hit my head? Got into an accident? That would explain the confusion. Maybe I’m lying in a hospital bed somewhere with tubes up my nose and wires in my chest.

Except… I don’t hear any beeping. No humming machines. No murmurs. No footsteps.

Just… nature.

Wait.

I’m lying down.

That realization hits like a flicker of light in a blackout. I try to grab onto it, but my mind’s a glitchy mess. Everything feels wrapped in gauze. Like I’ve been asleep for centuries and someone clobbered me with a shovel just before I woke up.

Focus. Breathe.

Inhale. Exhale.

Okay. That’s something.

Something rough brushes against the side of my face. Grass? Moss? Definitely not hospital sheets.

So… not in a coma?

Or maybe they haven’t found me yet.

I try to scream, but nothing comes out. Just dry air and silence.

This feels like sleep paralysis. That helpless, frozen feeling. Except I’m not seeing any tall shadowy demons hovering over me. Actually, I’m not even capable of seeing anything in the first place.

It’s more than darkness. It’s… nothingness. Like trying to look out of your elbow. There’s just no vision at all.

Am I blind?

But blindness doesn’t explain this paralysis. This numb, static-laced disconnect.

Then I feel it.

Wind.

Cool. Real. Brushing against my skin, not the recycled kind from AC, but something wild. Untamed.

Wait AC?

That thought pops up, random and jarring, but it tells me something.

I know what an AC is.

My brain isn’t totally blank. I know language. Concepts. Facts. And I even seem to have a personality of some sort.

But not me.

The gears in my head start grinding painfully.

Where am I?

No, more importantly…

Who am I?

I dig for something. Anything.

A name.

A memory.

A voice.

Blank.
Blank.
Blank.
Blank.
Blank.

My mind’s an empty book with only the glossary still intact. I know things, how the world works, what words mean but I have no story. No character. No sense of self.

Just a ghost with a heartbeat.

Panic floods in, sharp and bitter.

I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, even though they’re already shut. Like it’ll somehow shake the fog loose.

But it doesn’t.

I feel trapped.

Stuck.

I CAN’T MOVE.
I CAN’T REMEMBER.
WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?
AM I DEAD?
IS THIS FOREVER?
WILL I JUST—
OH GOD OH GOD
OH GOD Breathe.

Deep breaths.

You’re breathing. You’re awake. That has to count for something.

I focus. I can feel air passing through my nose. The rise and fall of my chest.

That’s real.

I'm real.

I try again to move.

This time, my fingers twitch. Then my arm. Then my leg.

Limbs: confirmed.

Body: operational. Well, mostly.

Okay. Progress.

I’m lying on something uneven and lumpy, not a bed. I shift slightly, and something crunches beneath me. Leaves? Some kind of grass?

The scent of damp soil fills my nose, wet, earthy, organic.

Yup. Definitely not a hospital.

God, I really hope no bugs are crawling on me. The thought alone gives me goosebumps.

Alright. I need to snap out of this. Shake the fog.

Do something.

I squeeze my eyes open.

This time it works.

Light explodes behind my eyelids. Bright, burning, blinding. I wince, squinting through the pain, like a newborn tasting light for the first time.

It hurts.

But it’s real.

Shapes begin to form.

Blurry outlines.

Massive, towering trees stretching up into the sky.

The forest.

Wait…

What the—

My brain lurches, trying to catch up with what I’m seeing. Massive trees stretch impossibly high, their trunks thick like ancient pillars straight out of a fantasy artbook or an open-world video game. Sunlight filters through the canopy in streaks, like God poked holes in the ceiling and forgot to patch them up.

The ground beneath me is uneven, a mess of moss, roots, and scattered leaves. There’s no sidewalk, no concrete, no trash, no signs of human life. Just... nature. Wild and untamed and so real it makes my skin crawl.

It's almost picturesque perfect, too still, like the world’s holding its breath.

It kind of feels like I’m back in my hometown. Wherever that was.

I get this weird sense that I grew up around nature. Or at least visited it a lot. Like maybe I lived in the city most of the time but used to visit somewhere quieter. Somewhere with trees. And birds. That kind of vibe.

It would make sense, right? The way this place feels so familiar. So peaceful.

Still… despite that feeling, I can’t recall anything. Just going based on vibes really.

No names. No memories. Just… intuition.

Like my brain’s holding out on me.

Rude.

At least give me something to work with.

Do I have amnesia?

It’s so confusing. My brain still feels too clogged and foggy to think this through.

Right. Then I probably should leave it for later. There’s no point in stressing myself even more when it’ll lead to nothing anyway.

I sit up slowly, arms trembling, every joint in my body whining in protest like I’ve just slept in a dumpster. My clothes baggy, wrinkled, damp, possibly from the moisture on the grass I was laying on cling to me in all the wrong places. Gross.

I take a look at my body and kind of try to move my hands and legs some more. I can sense them, but not all the way, it’s like I slept on them for too long and now they’re all tingly and numb.

But despite that, they still move. That’s good. That’s progress.

Something rustles behind me.

I freeze.

Ah fuck, is this where I get attacked by monsters or wild beasts and die?

Should I act dead? I think that works with brown bears, but I’m not lying down anymore. At this point, it’s too late.

Another rustle.

Oh yup. I’m definitely fucked. Just get it over with. Make it painless.

And another one.

I turn slowly, heart thumping loud enough that I swear it echoes through the trees.

C’mon… surely you’re not gonna play with me and then torture me, right? I got isekai’d for fuck’s sake. I need some kind of immunity or advantage. Isn’t that how it works?

Like, MCs get overpowered abilities or something.

And then I see him.

A figure.

Definitely not a monster.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Standing several feet away in the trees like he just casually spawned in, waiting for me to trigger his cutscene.

LOL.

He’s holding a relatively big axe and… clothes?

I mean, it’s not armor, but it’s definitely not the usual modern clothes you’d see where I come from.

His short hair’s light, a soft dirty blonde that curls a little at the ends, catching the sunlight like it’s auditioning for a shampoo commercial. I’m envious.

His skin’s tanned, sun-kissed. He definitely works in the sun, probably was in the middle of doing just that before he stumbled across me. And naturally, he’s well-built from the labor. I assume he chops trees with that axe… or maybe it’s his weapon?
I hope not.

Face framed with the kind of strong jawline you’d fall for when scrolling past an attractive guy online.

Simp?

Holy crap.

Those are some of the warmest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. Like if coffee and honey had a baby and that baby made eye contact with you and suddenly you forgot your own name.

I must’ve had a shocked expression on my face, because he tilts his head, curiously.

I don’t know what to do, so I blink.

“...Uhh.” I mutter intelligently.

He says something, but I don’t quite catch it.

I don’t think he speaks my language. And I’m definitely not speaking his.

He blinks again. Then raises a hand slowly, palms-up, like he’s trying not to spook a wild animal.

Which, fair. That’s kind of what I feel like right now.

Just hope I give the vibes of a cute, cool animal.
Not a pig or a boar.
Although… I am built like one.

“☐”

It's muttered softly. Gentle. Deep. Friendly?

It sounds friendly. Doesn't it? But what if he’s a sadist preparing to torture me? He seems too good to be true.

Also, I can’t tell what language that is…

Definitely not English.

Then… is it a unique language exclusive to this world? Like some kind of made-up tongue from a fantasy book? It sounds legit enough.

My heart pounds.

Okay. Okay. Brain. Time to kick in.

This is fine. This is fine. He doesn’t look dangerous. No glowing eyes. No giant teeth. No black smoke trailing behind him like a cursed soul. He’s not even holding his axe like a weapon it’s just… there.

That thing looks heavy.

I swallow hard and raise my hands. Not in surrender, just… peace offering mode.

“Hey,” I mumble quietly.

Wait. Will speaking even make a difference? I mean, he probably won’t understand me anyway, but still. I feel like saying something is better than staying silent. At least that way, he'll be able to tell I’m not from around here.

“Uh, I don’t know what you’re saying, but I come in peace?”

He furrows his brows. Tilts his head again. Then he smiles, confused.

God help me, he smiles.

Not a smirk. Not a creepy grin. Just this genuine, soft little curve of his lips that somehow makes the whole forest feel less scary.
He’s adorable. What the hell.

I mean, I don’t mean to glaze him but… Jesus. This definitely feels like I’m in some kind of fantasy story.

Okay. But still, language barrier.

He kind of just stands there, curiously watching me to see what I’ll do next.

I try again.

I point to my chest. “I.”
Then I make a sharp, cutting gesture with my hand. “Don’t.”
After, I cross my arms in an X and shake my head. “Understand.”
Finally, I scrunch up my face in confusion and throw my hands out, palms up.

He watches, eyes wide with fascination. Then laughs. Just a small chuckle, but it sounds real. Warm.

Damn. I like his voice.

Wow. If this is a dream, don’t wake me up yet. Let me savor him a little longer. I have a feeling I didn’t interact with people like him very often. Might’ve been a shut-in loser. Either way, let me live this fantasy for a second more.

He says something else longer this time, still unintelligible but his tone’s gentle. Like he doesn’t wanna hurt me. He takes a step forward.

I flinch. I’m wary. I may be naive, but I don’t trust him yet.
But can I even do anything if he has bad intentions?
He’s got an axe.
I’ve got…
I look down at my sausage fingers.

He stops immediately. Raises both hands in front of him, showing me his palms. No weapons. Just him.

Oh? Did he place the axe down so he wouldn’t intimidate me?

My brain’s a war zone. On one side: those eyes, that smile, the complete lack of danger vibes. On the other: tall stranger with a heavy-looking axe in the middle of an unfamiliar forest speaking a fantasy language.

He could be one of those character trope, looks all sweet and innocent but is actually a powerful psychopath who tortures people, kind of dude.

Okay, I’ve mentioned torture like three times.
Do I have a kink?

Still…

He crouches down slowly, so he’s at my level.

Close. Too close.

I notice his eyes scan me with concern. Is he checking if I’m injured?

He’s caring too?

Nah. He’s definitely suspicious.
I squint at him suspiciously while he scans for any injuries on my body.
What’s your motive, mister? What are you after?

Then he taps his chest with a fist. Not aggressively, just firmly. “Leron,” he says.

Oh.

Oh!

His name?

“Leron,” I echo. I say it a couple of times. Okay, so I can understand names at least.

That kind of sounds like Lebron. Wait am I supposed to know that name?

He beams. Like a puppy getting praise for sitting.

He’s adorable. I’m about to have a heart attack. Ah, my heart. >.<

Then he points at me.

I blink.

Huh?

Oh. Right. My name.

Except…

My name…

I...

I don’t know it.

Suddenly the fog returns, creeping back into the corners of my mind like mold.

I stare down at my palm, tracing my lifeline with my finger, while trying to force something to click.

A name. Any name. My name.

But nothing comes.

I glance back at him, sheepish and disappointed.

And I shrug. “I… don’t know.”

He looks confused.

Ugh. I’m not good with words, but who said I could do sign language either?

I point to myself. Then make a big X with my arms. “No name.”

He still stares at me like he’s trying to process it.

Yup. No luck.

Then I point to my temple, tap it a couple of times, then shrug.

That seems to do it. His eyes widen. His brows knit together. He says something softly. The tone shifts—less curious now, more serious.

Then he reaches into a pouch at his side and pulls out… some kind of jerky?

He holds it out to me.

I blink.

I point to myself. “You… giving me food?”

He nods.

Ahh, I mean… it doesn’t look that appetizing. I don’t like smoked stuff, and that definitely looks smoked.

I raise my hands and politely decline. “I’m okay for now, thanks.”

A weird, uncomfortable feeling creeps in. Familiar.

It felt like second nature to decline food and say I was alright…
Did I struggle with self-worth in my past life?

I look down at my body. I mean, I’m not fit or anything, but it’s not like I’m obese or something.

He offers me a hand, but I instinctively decline it and get up on my own.

He watches me for a moment before flashing another warm grin and gestures for me to follow.

I stare back at him.

His eyes look kind.

I look around one last time at the trees, the light, the forest that doesn’t belong to any Earth I’ve ever known.

Then I nod.

And I follow him.

I guess I’ll place my faith in this stranger.
And if I’ll die… well, so be it.