Fyar opened his eyes. The potent scent of damp earth and rich humus invaded his senses. Around him, giant trees towered toward the sky, their canopy so dense that only slivers of light danced upon the strange, dim-blue grass below. Bizarre plants of unusual shapes thrived everywhere.
"A forest? I'm in a forest?" he muttered, his voice hoarse. Confusion quickly gave way to cold analysis. "Wait a minute... am I dreaming? Wasn't I just on a mission?"
His memory rewound. A luxurious penthouse, the smell of expensive perfume mixed with cordite. His target, a lecherous businessman, lay lifeless with a neat hole in his head. After that... yes, after that, he'd done something impulsive. A large, ornately framed mirror had caught his eye. For some reason, he felt compelled to shoot it. The flash of shattering glass was the last thing he clearly remembered.
"Mmm, what went wrong?" Fyar murmured to himself, his fingers unconsciously tightening. "Wait, wait... was it because I shot the mirror? Hypnosis? Damn it, I'm not drunk!"
Fyar's gaze fell to his hands. In his right, he still held his pistol, its cold steel familiar and reassuring. On his left wrist, a watch worth his very dignity was fastened securely. But its hands were frozen, pointing to exactly 11:00 PM the moment he had pulled the trigger for the last time on his mission.
"Weapon's still here," he whispered, a small relief amidst the chaos. "But this watch isn't working. I need to stay calm... I need to stay calm. Think about what just happened."
With the caution of a predator, Fyar began to move through the forest. His steps were careful, his eyes scanning every shadow. Occasionally, he pinched his own cheek, even lightly punched his arm, trying to tear through the veil of a dream that might be ensnaring him. But the pain felt real.
He leaned against a moss-covered tree and checked the pockets of his jacket. A chocolate bar for energy, 45 spare rounds, a sharp folding knife, and anti-radiation glasses. Everything was in its place, except for one thing.
His phone was gone.
"Only the phone is missing... this is too strange," he hissed, frustration beginning to gnaw at his composure. "How could I suddenly be here? From any point of view, this makes no sense!"
Suddenly, the forest's silence was torn apart by two horrifying sounds happening at once.
Roar!
Aaaaaaaaa!
A beastly roar, like a lion's, but intertwined with a piercing shriek that sounded like a human screaming in agony. His trained reflexes took over. Fyar instantly crouched, slipping into a thick bush and moving without a sound toward the source of the noise. His pistol was raised, ready to face any threat.
That sound... like a lion and a human at the same time. What's going on? he thought, his heart beating slightly faster.
After closing the distance, Fyar peered from behind the leaves. What he saw made his blood run cold. In a small clearing stood a monster. It had the form of a giant wolf, but with a single, glowing red eye in the center of its head. The creature opened its jaw, which was filled with human-like teeth, and from it came that terrifying sound.
"What the f**k was that?" Fyar whispered, his eyes wide with disbelief. "I've never seen a creature like that. Are those internet conspiracy theories about SCPs actually true? Damn it, what the hell is happening!"
His survival instinct screamed. I have to shoot it. If that thing notices me, I'll be dead in ten seconds.
Without hesitation, he took aim.
BANG!
BANG!
BANG!
Three sharp cracks split the air. Three hot bullets pierced the one-eyed monster's head, causing it to stagger and collapse to the ground with a heavy thud.
"Effective," Fyar breathed a sigh of relief. He waited a moment before slowly emerging from his hiding spot, approaching the strange creature's corpse.
As he observed it up close, his expression froze once more. The monster had six legs, three tails, and dark blue skin. Its claws were as sharp as knives. This was the kind of creature that should only exist in video games, anime, or fantasy novels.
"This makes no sense," he muttered again. "I must be dreaming or hypnotized. A lucid dream. That's the only logical explanation."
Trying to accept the absurdity of his situation, Fyar continued his journey. The deeper he explored, the more apparent it became that he was no longer in his own world. Giant, human-sized mushrooms grew in clusters, strange caterpillars had delicate wings, butterflies flew about with the faces of bears, and a legged snake slithered across his path.
Seeing all this, his conviction grew stronger. This was a dream, or the result of forced hypnosis by an enemy.
Before long, the sound of gurgling water reached him. Fyar followed the sound and found a clear river. He knelt at the edge, staring at his reflection on the water's surface. Purple hair, purple eyes, a strong jawline, and the all-black suit he had worn for his mission: shirt, blazer, tie, and jacket.
He scooped water with his hand, splashing his face and slicking his hair back with his fingers. The cold sensation was refreshing. A faint, thin smirk began to form on his lips.
"If this really is a dream or hypnosis," he murmured to his reflection, "then maybe I should just enjoy it. It's not often I get entertainment like this, hehe."
Fyar stood up, straightening his tie and the collar of his slightly damp shirt. With renewed purpose, he began walking again, this time following the river's flow. His hope was rewarded when he finally found a dirt road that looked well-traveled.
After fifteen minutes of walking under a foreign, hot sun, thirst and fatigue began to set in. However, his four years of training at the academy had forged him to endure such situations.
Suddenly, the desperate cries of humans echoed from up ahead.
"Spare us! Spare us!"
"We'll give you all our treasure! Please, don't kill us!"
Humans? Or a monster's trap? Fyar thought.
He immediately took cover behind a large tree at the side of the road, advancing in a ready stance, prepared to shoot anything that appeared. When he was close enough, he could see the scene clearly.
It was indeed humans. An old, white-haired man and a beautiful young woman with long, silver hair and emerald-green eyes. Both had their hands raised, begging before four masked bandits. Behind them, a horse-drawn carriage, seemingly belonging to the man and woman, was being prepared for theft by two other bandits.
"We've already given you our merchandise and our gold," the old man said, his voice trembling. "We swear we won't report this to the kingdom! Please, just don't kill us!"
One of the bandits let out a hoarse laugh, his lustful eyes fixed on the young woman beside the old man.
"I'll spare your life, old man," the bandit said. "But I'm taking the woman with me."
"Please, don't! She's the only child I have left! Just kill me, take me instead, not her!" the old man pleaded, his body trying to shield his daughter.
"You don't get to decide!" the bandit snarled. He stepped forward and roughly grabbed the girl's arm.
"No! Father, help me! Father! I'm sorry! Please... spare me!" the girl cried out, tears streaming down her terrified face.
"Her, or I kill your father! And you stay quiet, old man, or I'll kill your daughter!" the bandit threatened.
BANG!
An unfamiliar gunshot split the air. The bandit holding the girl jolted, then collapsed to the ground with a gaping hole between his eyes. The old man quickly pulled his daughter into his arms.
"W-what happened?! An enemy? What kind of magic is this?" the other bandit shouted, panicking at the sight of his fallen comrade.
BANG!
A second shot followed, striking him squarely in the head. He fell without a sound.
The two bandits by the carriage froze in shock and confusion.
"Wh-what—"
BANG! BANG!
Two precise shots ended their confusion. A deafening silence enveloped the road.
The old man was still holding his daughter tightly, both of them trembling violently. A moment later, a strangely dressed figure in all-black attire with purple hair stepped out from behind the trees. He walked calmly towards them.
"Don't panic," Fyar said, a cold, cynical smile gracing his lips. "I'm just a lost adventurer. As a token of your gratitude, please give me some money and take me to town."
He paused, his sharp gaze cutting through their fear.
"Oh, and also... you can call me Fyar. Or 77. Or um...077!"