Chapter 2: Scattered Beginnings

Makoto’s first steps into the dense forest were cautious, his boots sinking slightly into the mossy floor. Sunlight filtered through towering oaks, casting shifting shadows across the undergrowth. Wait… what? Where am I? he thought, a sharp intake of breath catching in his chest. He lifted a hand and flexed his fingers inside the strange hand wraps. Why… why does this feel so different?

Fists clenched and released, responding with a strength he had never known. The sensation was thrilling—and terrifying. “Did this really happen?!” he muttered under his breath, as if speaking aloud could confirm reality. Around him, the forest seemed alive, whispering in leaves and birdcalls, and he felt a pang of longing for something familiar. We need to find each other… but how?

Makoto adjusted his stance, testing his agility. Leaping across a fallen log, he discovered his reflexes were sharper, his body lighter than he remembered. It was exhilarating, yet disorienting. I have to keep moving. They’re out there somewhere…

Tatsu perched precariously on a cliff overlooking a winding river, its currents glinting like molten silver. He traced the smooth wood of his staff with trembling fingers, feeling the latent energy hum beneath his hands. Magic? Here? Real? A shiver ran through him. The knowledge alone was staggering.

He bent slightly, noting the shift in his center of balance, the subtle grace of his high-elven form. Every calculation he had ever made—the optimal strategies, survival tactics, logistical considerations—flashed through his mind. We need to find each other first. Only then can I start understanding this world… and this body.

Maki landed on a rocky plateau with a dramatic thud, sword and shield ready. The wind tugged at his dark cloak as he spread his arms wide, surveying the horizon. Is this… me? He glanced at his reflection in a puddle at his feet. The angular lines of the armor pressed unfamiliar shapes against his body. Yet every swing of his sword, every adjustment of shield, resonated with a strange exhilaration.

“I… I can do this,” he whispered, though pride masked the lingering uncertainty. He began moving forward, determined to find a town—or at least a clue—to give him direction. I’ll carve my path, whatever this world is.

Kengo crouched in the shadow of a small village square, twin daggers and a hand crossbow ready. He sniffed the air and grimaced. What the hell just happened?! Every sense screamed alert, every movement felt strange, alien. The hum of life here—villagers going about daily routines, distant animals, wind through the rooftops—made him feel disoriented, like a ghost in a borrowed body.

He forced himself to calm down, tail flicking with restless energy. I have to find the others. I don’t want to be here, but I need to. His instincts sharpened, weaving through the alleys, measuring distances, testing shadows. Danger and opportunity danced side by side, and he realized with a jolt that even reluctant, even irritated, he couldn’t turn away from it.

Finally, Rei stood alone in a sunlit meadow, greatsword resting across his shoulder. The angular plate armor was sharp, imposing, unfamiliar against his frame. He flexed fingers inside the gauntlets, noticing subtle differences in strength, balance, and posture. Every motion carried a strange resonance, heightened awareness.

This isn’t quite me. The thought lingered in the back of his mind, unspoken. His voice, tested softly under his breath, felt different—deeper, altered—but not wrong. Every step felt purposeful, controlled in a way his old body hadn’t allowed.

He glanced across the hills, imagining the others scattered somewhere in this unknown world. Makoto calculating, Tatsu observing, Maki asserting, Kengo lurking—each discovering the same strangeness in their own ways. The sense of disbelief lingered, a quiet hum beneath every thought.

We need to find each other.

Gripping his greatsword tighter, Rei allowed its weight to anchor him. Slowly, he began walking toward a distant ridge, the first landmark guiding him toward the others. The journey had begun.

The siblings, scattered and disoriented, each tested their newfound abilities in subtle ways. Makoto jumped from branch to branch, sensing his strength and agility. Tatsu traced faint patterns of magic with his staff, feeling the pulse of mana beneath the soil. Maki tested his sword and shield on rocky outcroppings, measuring the limits of stamina and reflex. Kengo moved silently, blending instinct with observation, learning the rhythm of shadows and alleyways. Rei walked steadily, each step grounding him in this new form, sensing potential he hadn’t yet begun to understand.

Landmarks began to emerge as the day wore on: the glint of a distant tower, a bend in the river reflecting the sun, a hilltop catching the light. Each sibling, moving carefully yet purposefully, began nudging closer to convergence.

Rei paused, lifting his helmeted gaze to the horizon. Wind teased strands of hair beneath the armored helm; the greatsword felt steady on his back. He didn’t fully understand the body he now inhabited, didn’t yet understand the world—but a quiet certainty stirred within.

We’ll meet again. Soon.

And with that, Rei adjusted his grip, planted his boots firmly, and continued toward the unknown.