The thought came back like a whisper behind his ear—unreal, impossible.
"How the hell did I survive that?" Ezren muttered.
He remembered too much to pretend it was a dream.The sky had torn open like paper, bleeding impossible colors.The wind had howled louder than any scream.And the world below had rushed up to meet him like the punchline to a cruel joke.
No wings.No magic circle.No miracle spell.Just a fall.
A plunge into death.
Except he wasn't dead.He was here.Shivering by a fire he built with raw, blistered hands.Bruised from the landing.But breathing.
Ezren flexed his fingers slowly. No glowing runes. No arcane warmth. Just pain. Just skin and bone.
But something had saved him. Something unnatural.
"No one survives a fall like that," he whispered. "Not without something."
Was it inside him?Power?Magic?Some hidden force waiting to awaken?
He snorted.
"…Nah. That kind of stuff only happens in anime."
And yet…The memories lingered, clear and surreal.
The sky splitting apart.Constellations he'd never seen before.That deep, echoing bell that shook the air itself.And—most insane of all—that giant humanoid rabbit that had nearly turned him into a bloodstain.
Then it clicked.
He fell from the sky.Into a strange world.Survived a fatal drop.Fought a monster out of a fever dream.
Ezren blinked slowly.
"…Is this… an isekai?"
His gaze drifted back to the fire. A grin crept across his face.
"That would make me the protagonist… right?"
The idea settled like an ember in dry grass, igniting every trope he'd ever binged:Secret powers.Ancient bloodlines.Legendary swords hidden in caves.Fated companions.
"That means I'd have… a huge harem, right?" he muttered, grinning with mock-hope.
But the smile didn't last.
He looked down.
Dirt under his nails.Deep bruises blooming purple and black across his arms.Clothes torn and bloodied from claws and crawling.His whole body ached.And the meat cooking over the fire barely touched the hollow, gnawing hunger in his gut.
He looked up.
The sky was unfamiliar—fractured with faint, pale veins of light. The stars were wrong, too sharp, too bright. A cold wind slipped through the gaps in his clothes, biting at his skin.
No system screen.No tutorials.No cute elf girl tripping into his lap.
Just silence.Just pain.And the weight in his chest—that old, familiar weight he never quite outran.
If this was an isekai…It was the kind no one asked for.
The fire crackled softly beside him.
Ezren leaned forward and turned the meat, letting it cook evenly. His face was calm. His thoughts were not.
Fantasy or not, this world didn't care who he was.If he wanted to live, he'd have to do it the same way he always had.
Alone.
The Meal
When the rabbit was finally done, Ezren tore into it with quiet satisfaction. It was tough and dry—no seasoning, just slightly burnt on one side—but it was warm.
And it was his.
For once, that felt like enough.
He chewed slowly, eyes fixed on the fire. A breath slipped from him—slow, steady.
"That buffed-up rabbit couldn't cook a meal like this…" he muttered with a dry laugh.
It didn't last. But it helped.
The Night
As night swallowed the forest, Ezren gathered grass and sticks to make a bed. It wasn't comfortable. The sticks poked at his back. The cold from the earth soaked through his clothes.
"God damn it," he groaned as a sharp stick jabbed him in the spine.
But he lay down anyway, wrapping his tattered coat tight around himself as the fire shrank to a bed of glowing embers. Above, the sky was breathtaking—strange stars scattered across the heavens, alien and endless.
It wasn't warm.It wasn't soft.It wasn't safe.
But it was something.
And sometimes, something…Was all a man needed.