Stars scattered across the night sky as I woke up in the middle of an unfamiliar forest. The smell of damp earth, rotting leaves, and cold air biting against my skin made every hair on my body stand on end. Insects chirped all around me, and the wind rustled the foliage in whispers that felt far too alive.
I slowly sat up, trying to process the situation.
My phone was dead. No signal. No city lights. No sounds of cars—just trees that seemed… too wild, too dense. Every shadow between the trunks made my body tense instinctively.
"Where… am I?" I muttered, brushing dirt off my pants.
My head spun, searching for any sign of civilization. Nothing. Just the forest swallowing the moonlight whole.
"Okay. Relax. Maybe I wandered off from some campsite. Just chill," I told myself, not believing it for a second.
I had barely taken a few steps when a branch snapped behind me.
I froze.
From behind the bushes, three large men emerged. Their clothes were ragged, worn-out, and each of them carried a weapon: a dull machete, a long wooden staff, and one with a large rock in his hand. Their eyes were cold. Predatory.
"Look at that, a kid all alone," the machete guy sneered.
"Could be money… or entertainment," the rock guy added.
My chest tightened. Three against one. No help. No police. Nowhere to run.
Okay. Stay calm. Assess first.
I swallowed hard, muscles drawn tight. "I don't have anything on me. Really. I just want to get out of here."
The staff guy moved first—fast, like a sprinter.
"Perfect! Then you won't mind giving us a little of your time before we take what we want!"
He struck.
Instinct kicked in before my brain did. I stepped back, slipped to the side, and kicked dirt up into his face. Sand and soil showered his eyes, forcing him to blink.
But that only made the other two lunge at me.
The rock guy swung at my head with the force of someone who truly wanted my skull cracked open. I ducked, but left myself open for the machete that swept from the side.
No time to think.
I jumped backward—
—and the blade grazed my stomach, slicing skin. Warm. Wet.
"Argh!" Pain shot through me like electricity. My thoughts scrambled.
The staff guy recovered and thrust forward like a spear.
I saw it too late.
Crack!
His staff pierced my chest. Breath stolen. Vision blurring.
And in the very last second before darkness swallowed me whole…
something clicked inside my mind.
Back to the past.
I jolted upright.
Same place. Same position. Same forest.
No wound. No staff in my chest.
"What… was that?" I whispered, gulping air.
I had definitely died. And now I was back.
My brain shifted gears instantly. These three weren't just thugs—they were coordinated, vicious, and efficient. Not unbeatable, but absolutely deadly for someone normal.
Okay. Second attempt.
I moved to the same spot as before, deliberately slow, holding my breath. Snap of a branch. Three bandits emerged from the bushes… again.
Alright. Déjà vu.
The machete guy smirked. "A kid all alo—"
I was already moving.
I put more distance between us, making sure they couldn't surround me. They were only dangerous together. Break their formation—priority number one.
I tossed a pebble at the staff guy. His reflexes were sharp—he blocked it, but the other two glanced toward him.
Perfect.
I sprinted in a zigzag toward a massive tree. Staff guy chased first. Just as expected.
As he closed in, I pivoted around the trunk, letting him slam shoulder-first into the bark.
"Gah!" He grunted in pain.
I kicked his knee out from behind. He fell.
But before I could finish him, the rock guy hurled his stone at me. I rolled aside as it hit the ground like a meteor.
The machete guy advanced, swinging wildly.
I took a deep breath. Focus.
Now or die again.
I feigned panic, baiting him into a sloppy swing. When his body twisted, I slipped under his arm and drove my elbow into his ribs—hard.
"GAH!"
The machete dropped.
I kicked it away, but the rock guy grabbed my collar from behind and threw me into the tree.
My skull rang. Vision spun.
Don't die again. Don't.
I forced my body up just before he stomped down.
I grabbed dirt—pebbles—threw them into his eyes.
He screamed, clutching his face.
I headbutted him. Pain exploded across my forehead, but it worked—he staggered.
I gathered what little strength I had left and punched his temple.
"ARGH!"
He collapsed.
My breathing was ragged, body trembling, but I was alive.
The staff guy crawled away. The machete guy was unconscious. The rock guy sat groaning, clutching his head.
I picked up the machete and pointed it at them.
"Leave," I said, voice shaking.
"If you come back… I won't be this nice again."
They fled without a word.
I dropped down, trembling violently, trying to steady my breath.
I looked at my hands—dirt-stained, a bit bloody. I'd won. But the victory felt wrong. Too real. Too brutal for any normal forest.
I looked up at the sky, trying to calm my racing mind.
"What is this place… really?"
The question throbbed painfully in my skull. In a world that should've been ordinary, I had just died—then returned. With every second of that death still vivid.
I rose slowly, scanning the trees. They looked the same as before, but now I noticed details: the fractures in branches, the angles of shadows, places where someone could hide. Everything made sense in a way it hadn't moments earlier.
One thing was clear: I couldn't rely on luck. I had to rely on strategy, reflexes, instinct—things normal people wouldn't manage in a situation like this.
With my breathing still uneven, I decided not to return to the same bush. I needed a safer path, an exit route, and a better understanding of this forest. Most importantly… I needed to figure out why I died, and why I came back.
The night sky loomed overhead. The cold air brushed my skin, carrying the scent of wet earth and dead leaves.
This was only the beginning.
Those three bandits were only the first wall.
And I… I had to break through it.