Aryan's eyes fluttered open slowly, the sterile white ceiling above him spinning gently as his mind struggled to catch up. His body ached — every muscle screamed from the wounds he had barely survived. Faint sounds of footsteps echoed through the corridor outside, steady and measured.
The air here smelled different. Clean, with a faint metallic tang mixed with antiseptic. It was nothing like the dense forest, nothing like the sharp smell of burnt wood and scorched earth.
Where am I? Aryan wondered, blinking away the haze.
As consciousness fully returned, he realized he was no longer lying on the cold, hard ground of the forest. Instead, he was on a soft bed inside a brightly lit room — one that looked part hospital, part military installation.
The walls were smooth, almost seamless, made from a pale gray metal that reflected the fluorescent lights. Through a narrow window, he caught a glimpse of the outside — a sprawling city stretched far beyond, with tall, shining towers that glittered under the midday sun.
Aryan's mind raced, trying to process everything.
This place… it's not like Earth.
Outside his window, soldiers stood at rigid attention, their armor polished to a mirror-like shine. They were everywhere, patrolling the wide streets and watching over the citizens who moved beneath their vigilant gaze.
The city was breathtaking — far more advanced and orderly than any place Aryan had ever seen on Earth. It was peaceful, but that peace felt fragile, like the watchful eyes of the soldiers were waiting for something to break.
A sharp knock at the door startled Aryan out of his thoughts.
Two soldiers entered, their faces stern but not unkind. They wore uniforms similar to those Aryan had seen outside — sleek, dark, with an insignia that gleamed on their chests. They stood by his bedside, silently observing.
"You're awake," one said finally, his voice calm but edged with curiosity.
Aryan tried to speak but his throat was dry and sore. The soldier handed him a glass of water.
As Aryan brought the glass to his lips, he suddenly froze. The water inside seemed to shimmer oddly, then solidify — turning into a thin layer of ice before his eyes.
"What the…" Aryan whispered, startled.
He stared at his hand, which felt strange, almost buzzing with a new kind of energy.
Slowly, he lifted his hand and pointed it at a small picture frame on the bedside table. The moment his fingers brushed the air near the glass, frost began to creep along its edges.
The picture froze over, delicate patterns spreading like spiderwebs across the glass.
Aryan's breath caught. "No way… I have power. Real power."
He sank back against the pillows, a mixture of awe and confusion washing over him.
He remembered all those isekai manga and anime he had watched, where heroes awakened incredible magic or powers after arriving in new worlds. But this — this was real.
He was living it.
His mind whirled. Why me? How?
Before he could dig deeper, the door opened again. This time, a group of five soldiers entered, their presence commanding and serious. They didn't waste time with greetings.
"You are to come with us," the tallest one said, his tone firm but not cruel. "The elite soldiers want to question you about what happened in the forest."
Aryan swallowed hard, his body still weak but his mind sharpening.
"Elite soldiers?" he echoed.
The soldier nodded. "Yes. They're part of a special unit within the World Government. Highly trained, and they handle serious cases."
Aryan's heart skipped a beat. The World Government — he had heard whispers of their power and control from bits of conversation earlier, but now he was about to face their elite force.
The gravity of the situation settled over him like a heavy cloak.
As they helped him to his feet and escorted him out of the hospital room, Aryan stole one last look at the city through the window.
So this is the new world.
And it's far more complex — and dangerous — than he had imagined.