Chapter 1: Journey into the Unknown

As soon as the castle walls appeared on the screen, Rigar pulled his chair closer to the desk and placed his fingers on the keyboard. His soldiers were waiting in front of the eastern gate, which he had failed to breach in his previous two attempts.

"I'm not attacking the gate again."

He moved his character to the hill opposite the wall, then opened the command menu. He left a small number of soldiers in front of the gate and hid the rest in the passage alongside the hills. When his men began to retreat, the defenders came out to pursue them. He kept his finger on the key until the last enemy knight had passed the bend.

"Now."

His men charged from both sides. He closed the command menu and rushed his character down the hill into the battlefield. The clash of swords rang through his headphones, and the screen filled with dust. He dodged a strike from the enemy commander, moved around him, then pressed the button twice in succession.

The commander fell. The word "Victory" appeared above the walls, and the red banners began disappearing from the map.

"Finally!"

He raised his fist, then leaned back in his chair, laughing. It had taken him two days to conquer that territory, and now it was part of his kingdom. He moved the cursor over the new lands, examining the locations of mines and villages, and began issuing construction orders before the victory music had faded.

He would repair the bridge first. As for the stone tower at the border, he would deal with the monster guarding it himself.

A long growl came from his stomach. The cursor stopped over the tower. He looked at the empty cup beside the screen, then at the clock, and tried to remember the last thing he had eaten.

"All right... The tower will still be there."

He saved his progress and took off his headphones. When he stood up, his legs felt heavy, so he stretched a little before picking up his phone and wallet and leaving.

The restaurant was close enough to reach on foot. He pushed open its glass door, and the smell of grilled meat greeted him. His hunger increased as he walked between the tables. He chose a seat beside the window and picked up the menu from the edge of the table.

The waiter arrived before he could turn the first page.

"What would you like to order?"

"The meat platter with rice, and a bottle of water, please."

"Would you like anything else?"

Rigar lifted his eyes from the picture of the dish.

"If the portion is like the picture, that'll be enough."

The waiter smiled as he took the menu.

"You won't leave hungry."

Rigar waited, turning his phone over in his hands. He opened a saved image of the game's map and zoomed in on the tower. He had lost to its guardian once before: a massive stone creature that struck the ground with both hands, leaving its back exposed for a few moments after each blow.

The food arrived, and he immediately put his phone aside. The first bite was hotter than he expected. He swallowed it with difficulty, drank some water, then resumed eating more slowly. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he found himself gathering the last grains of rice from his plate.

He paid the bill, thanked the waiter, and went out into the street.

As he walked, he rearranged the battle in his mind: he would move away when the monster raised its arms, wait for them to strike the ground, then rush behind it. Perhaps he needed a faster weapon, or perhaps he needed to stop attacking whenever a small opportunity presented itself.

He took a deep breath, then slowed his steps. There was a strange smell. He inhaled again. The smell of wet soil, green leaves, and damp wood. He glanced at the decorative flowerbeds in front of the shops, then at the dry road beneath his feet. It hadn't rained, and he hadn't seen anyone watering the plants.

He raised his head and saw the trees.

They were far away, at the end of the street, where the intersection was supposed to be. Tall trunks stood close together, with dark spaces between them and branches swaying above the cars. A car passed through one of the trunks without being obscured by it. Then the trees disappeared for a moment and returned.

Rigar stopped and rubbed his eyes.

"Am I imagining things, or has playing too much made me start seeing a forest?"

He looked at the storefront beside him, then back at the intersection. The scene was still there, faint as an image reflected on glass.

He let out a short breath and shook his head. He would go home and wash his face, and perhaps put off the tower until tomorrow.

He continued along his usual route. He was trying to make out what he was seeing, expecting it to disappear as he approached. The scent of leaves reached his throat, and he felt a chill pass over his arms. He reached into his pocket, thinking of taking out his phone to capture a picture.

And with his next step, his shoe sank into the soil.

He stopped. Beneath his foot was a layer of decomposing leaves. He slowly lifted his shoe, and a strand of mud clung to its edge.

He looked ahead. A tree trunk stood close enough for him to touch its bark. Behind it was another trunk, then tangled rows of trees stretching into the pale light filtering through the branches.

He spun around. The street had disappeared. There were no glass storefronts, no streetlights, and no restaurant he had left a short while ago. The forest stretched behind him as well.

"Where am I?" His voice came out louder than he intended. He waited, as though someone might answer from behind the trees.

"Is what I'm seeing real?"

He took two steps backward, then walked quickly in the direction he had come from. He passed a bush and pushed a branch away from his face. He should have reached the sidewalk by now. He went farther, then began to run.

He found nothing but more trees. He stopped, panting, and looked behind him. He was no longer even sure where he had entered.

He took out his phone. The screen lit up in his hand, but the signal indicator was absent. He tried to make a call and waited several long seconds before a message appeared saying the call could not be completed.

He tried again. The result was the same. He put the phone back in his pocket and wiped his palms on his trousers. His fingers were trembling.

He raised his hand and slapped his cheek. The blow stung, making him gasp and close his eyes for a moment.

"Get a hold of yourself, Rigar." He said it aloud, then swallowed.

"Try to understand what's happening first. Look around... You have to find a way."

He placed his hand on the nearest tree trunk. He felt the roughness and coldness of the bark beneath his palm. He bent slightly, examining the spaces between the trees and searching for footprints or cut branches.

He heard a cracking sound behind the bushes. He immediately raised his head. A brief rustling followed, then another from a different direction. The leaves of a bush to his right moved, and a small green face appeared between them.

Rigar remained still. The creature was much shorter than him, with a hunched back, pointed ears, and a wide mouth from which uneven teeth protruded. A dirty piece of leather hung around its waist, and it held a thick club in its hand.

A second creature emerged from behind a tree. It carried a short knife.

"Goblin...?"

The name almost sounded ridiculous when he said it. He recognized these faces from games, but now their pungent smell reached him, and he heard the knife scraping against the bark as its owner moved alongside a nearby trunk.

Two more appeared. Rigar took a step backward.

The one carrying the club let out a shrill cry and charged toward him. Rigar turned and ran.

He forced his way between the trees, pushing branches aside with his forearms and jumping over roots. He heard their footsteps behind him, light and rapid, interrupted by short sounds he couldn't understand.

He didn't dare look back.

The edge of his shirt caught on a thorn, so he pulled until it tore and continued running. The air began to burn in his chest. He tried to run faster, but the trees forced him to turn again and again, and the sounds were getting closer.

He spotted a gap between two trunks and rushed toward it. His foot caught on a protruding root. He lost his balance and struck the ground with his palms before his knee hit a stone. His arm slid across the dirt, and his mouth filled with the taste of dust.

He tried to stand, but his leg failed him. They had arrived.

The goblins spread out around him, watching as he crawled away. The one holding the club approached and struck the ground near his foot. Rigar flinched and pulled his leg toward his chest.

"Stay away!" The words came out hoarse.

His hand searched the dirt behind him and struck a stone the size of his fist. He grabbed it as the creature raised its club again.

He threw it with all his strength. The stone struck the goblin in the eye. Its head jerked backward, and it dropped the club, howling as it pressed both hands against its face.

Rigar took advantage of the opportunity and staggered to his feet. He heard movement beside him, then felt something tear through his shirt at his back.

The pain came immediately afterward; sharp and spreading, it drove him forward. He fell to his knees and reached behind him. When he brought his hand back, his fingers were covered in blood.

He kept staring at them. A drop slid between his fingers and fell onto the dirt. He felt warmth spreading beneath his shirt, and the pain increased whenever he tried to move his shoulders.

Footsteps approached him. He opened his mouth to take a breath, but his chest tightened. He tried again, but the air came in short, rapid breaths, and it wasn't enough. He bent forward, clutching the front of his shirt, and began gasping.

He couldn't stop.

His heartbeat quickened until he could hear it in his ears. His vision narrowed, and the edges of the trees began to merge. He tried to remember what he should do, how to breathe, how to stand, but one thought kept returning whenever he caught sight of the knife:

He was going to die here. No one would come.

His fingers dug into the dirt, and his entire body shook. Then he felt the heat.

It began deep in his abdomen and spread toward his chest, then surged into his shoulders and arms. His eyes widened. Something was moving inside him, flowing beneath his skin and pressing against his limbs from within.

He lifted his hand from the ground. It was trembling violently.

One of the goblins approached, raising a rusty blade. Behind it, the one injured in the eye was still howling.

The heat intensified until Rigar felt as though his chest would split open.

"Stay away..."

He tried to move backward, but his legs propelled him forward. He suddenly stood and rushed toward the nearest one, screaming. He didn't know what he was doing. He stretched his hands in front of his face as the blade descended, and his body tensed in anticipation of the blow.

Fire exploded.

Flames burst outward from around him in a violent wave, striking the goblins before the blade could reach him. Their bodies were lifted off the ground, and their weapons scattered among the trees. Red light engulfed the trunks, and the roar of the explosion drowned out the screams.

He was thrown backward and landed on his palms. His ears were ringing. He raised his head with difficulty. The nearest creature was engulfed in flames, and another thrashed beside a tree before falling still. Beyond them, the remaining two lay on the ground amid blackened leaves drifting slowly through the air.

Rigar gasped, then coughed. The air carried the smell of burning flesh.

He looked at his hands. They were covered in soot, but the skin was not burned. He moved his fingers, then looked back at the bodies.

"I...?" His voice came out weak, barely audible.

The heat in his body quickly faded, replaced by a heavy cold. He tried to lift himself, but his arms trembled. He felt the ground tilting and something warm sliding from his back toward his waist.

His shoulder struck the dirt. Between the branches, he saw a small patch of sky. He tried to keep his eyes fixed on it, but it began to fade.

Then he lost consciousness.

A short while later, the branches at the edge of the burned clearing moved. A figure wrapped in a dark cloak emerged from between them and stopped near the corpses. The tip of a boot came to rest beside a discarded knife, then stepped past it toward Rigar.

The newcomer knelt beside him and placed two fingers against the side of his neck. After waiting a moment, the figure slipped one arm behind his shoulders and the other beneath his knees, lifting him from the ground.

Rigar's hand hung down, swaying with each step, until they disappeared among the trees.