Aryan lay inside a small cave, curled up beside the dying glow of his campfire. His stomach still churned from the bitter taste of the half-burnt fish he'd managed to cook earlier. It was barely edible, but hunger didn't leave him with much choice.
His body was exhausted, his mind racing.
"Am I… really in another world?" he whispered to himself, staring up at the rocky ceiling. The sounds of the forest outside—the wind in the trees, the distant chirps of strange creatures—were the only answer he got.
Just as his eyes began to close, CRACK.
A sharp sound echoed through the trees.
Aryan jolted upright.
"What was that?" he muttered, eyes darting toward the cave's entrance. He held his breath, trying to listen.
Maybe it was just a branch breaking… or an animal passing by?
He started to settle back down, but then—a scream. Distant, but clear. And filled with fear.
Aryan froze.
That wasn't a dream. That wasn't his imagination.
"Someone screamed," he whispered, standing up slowly. "But out here? In the middle of this forest?"
He cautiously stepped out of the cave and looked around. The forest looked the same—dark and silent, the shadows moving gently with the breeze. But then, in the distance, something caught his eye.
A flicker of light. Not the soft, glowing plants he'd seen earlier.
This was fire.
His heart dropped.
"Wait… is something burning?"
Without thinking, he ran toward the light, weaving between trees and ducking under low branches. As he got closer, the glow got stronger. The air grew hotter. The smell of smoke hit his nose.
When he finally reached the edge of a small clearing, he stopped and crouched low behind some bushes.
And what he saw left him speechless.
There were people—maybe six or seven of them. They wore long, dark cloaks that shimmered oddly in the firelight. One of them held a glowing staff, its tip swirling with bright blue energy.
The fire around them wasn't normal. It didn't spread like regular flames—it moved like it was alive, jumping from one tree to the next, almost as if it was being controlled.
Aryan's breath caught in his throat.
Magic. That was the only word he could think of.
Just like in the isekai anime he used to watch. But this wasn't a show. This wasn't cool or exciting. It was terrifying.
Then he noticed something else—something even worse.
There were small animals, trembling and crying out. Some had glowing eyes, others strange tails or colorful fur. They were huddled together, surrounded.
The cloaked figures were dragging them away—ripping them from their parents. Some of the larger animals tried to fight back, but they didn't stand a chance. The attackers cut them down like it meant nothing.
Aryan's hands curled into fists.
"They're… traffickers," he muttered. "Even in this world…"
He couldn't believe it. A whole new world full of wonder and mystery—and still, the same darkness. The same cruelty.
He looked at the burning trees. The terrified animals. The lifeless bodies of those that tried to protect their young.
His chest tightened.
"…Dammit."
He didn't have powers. He didn't have weapons.
But he had a choice.
He took a deep breath, his legs trembling slightly.
"I'm not a hero," he whispered. "But I'm not just going to stand here and do nothing."
With that, Aryan stepped out from the shadows—and ran straight into the fire.
His first real fight in this strange new world had just begun.