The portal spat me out into darkness, and I crashed head first into something hard. Pain exploded through my skull and warm liquid trickled down my face. I'd landed on something soft – no, multiple soft things, with the exception of whatever my noggin had collided with. Before I could process what was happening, a small body slammed into me from above.

"Oof!" I grunted, the wind knocked out of me. "Churl? You okay?"

"I'm fine, boss," she replied, her voice muffled against my chest. She rolled off me and shuffled around in the darkness. "You got a nasty scratch there. Let me take a look."

Clawed hands gently probed my forehead. "Ouch.".

"Sorry," she muttered. Then, her tone changed. "Oh. This is fortunate, it is."

I touched my forehead and found a prominent lump where I’d landed face-first. My hand came away wet with my own blood.

"What?"

"Where we've ended up. Look around."

I did, but we were in darkness except for a mass of stars above us in the night sky. I was on something lumpy, but I had no idea what it was. I felt around and recoiled as my hand closed on cold flesh.

"Oh my god," I whispered and wiped my hand against my chest in disgust.

"Stay here. Don't move. I'll scout."

"Uh," I said, eyes wide, every muscle frozen in terror. This was how zombie movies started. Shut up, brain! We have more significant issues than zombies to deal with.

I lay there in the darkness, my body filled with revulsion as I tried to ignore the corpses beneath me. The stench of death hung heavy in the air, and I fought the urge to retch. Minutes felt like hours as I waited for Churl to return. What if she got caught and killed? I'd known Churl for less than an hour, but she was the only one who had helped me. If she had my back, I was going to have hers.

What a freaking nightmare! I'd lost my job, been ripped out of my body, thrust into that of an evil dark lord, and was currently lying on a pile of the dead. As far as bad days went, this topped them all with a vengeance.

When Churl finally came back, her voice quietly cut through the darkness. "Boss, you're not gonna believe this, but we're in luck!"

"Luck?" I croaked. "How is being surrounded by corpses lucky?"

God, I needed some water. Or something way stronger to cleanse my brain.

"This is a mass burial site," she explained, her tone far too cheerful for the grim situation. "It's perfect! We can get you out o’ those fancy robes and into something what helps ya blend in with the heroes."

"What about you?"

"Me? I'm small. I'll be able to hide while you figure out our next move."

My stomach lurched. I scrambled to sit up, and my hands sank into the lifeless flesh beneath me. "Oh god," I choked out. Was I really going to do this?

"Quick," Churl urged. "Activate the Heart of Shadows to hide your appearance. Then get out of that robe and put on some clothes that fits ya."

Amulet. Clothes. Armor. Right.

My mind was a jumble. I tried to focus on one task at a time, but I was sitting on top of a mass grave! Jesus Christ!

Snap out of it!

Did I tell myself to snap out of it, or was it him?

"I'm losing my damn mind. Maybe I am in a coma, after all, and this is the mother of all lucid dreams."

Churl held up a severed arm. I knew this because my eyes had adjusted to the darkness. "This look like a dream to you?" she demanded.

"Gah!"

My hand quickly closed over the amulet. Panic threatened to overwhelm me, but I forced myself to focus. I needed this to work. I pictured myself as I was – back on Earth. Vince Logan. Regular guy. Laid off Correspondence Specialist. I'd just had a meeting with The Bobs. I was out of a job.

Nothing happened.

Desperation surged through me. I remembered the treasure room and how the amulet's history had rushed into my mind when I had first touched it.

Focus, Vince!

I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing. Then, with deliberate concentration, I visualized myself again—every detail—my short, dark hair, rounded human ears, and unremarkable face. I imagined the sensation of being in my own skin, feeling the weight of my old life.

The amulet grew warm in my grip. Encouraged, I pushed my intention into it – a silent, mental command: Make me myself!

The gem lit up the area, but quickly faded away.

A tingling spread from my hand and traveled up my arm and through my entire body. My ears receded and rounded, and the ashen hue of my skin faded to my usual pale-ass self. My features shifted, morphing back to Vincent Logan, but a slightly better looking version. I gave myself longer dark hair and threw a roguish scar across my forehead because why not? If I was going to feign a head injury and memory loss, I might as well look like this wasn't the first time.

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Opening my eyes, I raised my hand to my face, and hesitatingly touched my cheeks and ears. Familiar contours, yes! It had worked! I was mostly me again.

"Is that a light? Is someone down there?" a voice bellowed.

Torches appeared. I had no time!

"Stop floating!" Churl hissed.

"I'm not floating," I whispered back, but then looked down. What the hell?

"Don't no humans need to see you using dark magic. Stop it!"

"I don't know how!"

I focused on the corpses beneath me, and thankfully, I dropped the couple of inches that separated me from Terra Deathica.

No time to think about that now. I worked fast, my hands feeling along the cold bodies until I found something I could wear. As I searched, I went over the story in my mind. I was hurt - the blood on my forehead would back that up. My memory was in tatters. It wasn't even a lie, really. I barely understood what was happening, myself.

My fingers closed around fabric that felt sturdy enough. I pulled, freeing a pair of pants from one of the corpses. I shuddered, trying not to think about the dead man who'd been wearing them just moments ago.

Before changing, I grabbed my discarded robe and stuffed it under another body, but not before retrieving the portal scrolls, a handful of gemstones I'd managed to snag from the treasure room, and the glowing ring. No telling what that damn thing was capable of. These, I tucked safely away in the pockets of my new pants. My staff stuck out like a sore thumb. I contemplated tossing it away, but Churl hissed at me.

“Leave it. I’ll make sure it’s hid well.”

“Thank you, Churl. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Lady Churl, ain’t it?”

“Yeah. Of course.” I risked a quick grin. “You are from this day forward Lady Churl.”

“I loves it.” She practically purred.

As I slid the clothes on, revulsion crawled up my spine. The fabric was stiff with dried blood and who knew what else. But I didn't have time to be picky. The voices were getting closer, and I needed to blend in.

"Just pretend it's a costume party," I muttered to myself, trying to quell the nausea rising in my throat. "A really, really bad costume party."

Churl grabbed my hand and pulled me close, and whispered, "I'm a ghost. They won't find me. I'll find you. Stay safe."

“You too, Lady Churl.”

I couldn't help it. I pulled Churl into a quick hug. She shoved me back roughly. Then she was gone, scurrying among the corpses. In the dull light, I made out her form slithering into a pile of the dead, and then she was gone from sight.

"Godspeed, Lady Churl. I hope we both make it out of this alive," I whispered after her.

I raised my hand, my voice hoarse as I called out, "Help! I'm alive!"

The torchlight flickered, casting long shadows across the mass of corpses. My stomach churned as I tried not to think about where I was sitting. The guards' voices grew louder, and I saw two of them peering down into the pit.

"By the gods," one of them exclaimed. "There's a survivor!"

There was a flurry of activity above, and moments later, some guards carefully made their way down into the pit utilizing some sort of rope ladders. The stench of death was overwhelming, and they struggled not to gag as they approached.

"Easy there, friend," the first guard said, reaching out to help me out of the pit. "We've got you."

As they pulled me to my feet, my legs wobbled. I'm unsure if it was from fear or the ordeal of the past few hours—probably both.

"I'm so sorry," the second guard said, his face pale in the torchlight. "We had no idea anyone was still alive down here. Thought they was all dead."

"I hit my head," I said dumbly. "In a battle. Got knocked around pretty good."

They helped me climb out of the pit, and I soon found myself surrounded by a small group of soldiers. Their faces were a mixture of shock, pity, and curiosity.

"What's your name, sir?" one of them asked.

I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again, furrowing my brow. "I... I can't remember," I said, my voice shaky. It wasn't entirely a lie – I wasn't sure who I was supposed to be in this world.

The guards exchanged worried glances. "It's alright," the first one said, his voice gentle. "You've been through a lot. Can you tell us what unit you were with?"

I shook my head, wincing as pain shot through my skull. "I'm sorry, I... everything's a blur. What happened?"

As I spoke, I noticed one of the guards examining my forehead. "You've got a nasty knot there," he said. "Probably explains the memory loss."

"Yeah. How'd we miss ya? We checked the corpses afore they was laid in there.” The soldier's voice was rough with a strange way of speaking. Wait. How in the heck was I able to understand these soldiers?

"I-I don't know,” I stammered. "Woke up here. I feel like I've been out for days. I need water. Food."

The others nodded sympathetically. "You really don't know nothin’?" another guard asked.

"Sorry, my head hurts. I can't remember anything. I know nothing." I shook my head, and generally looked like the confused idiot I was.

"A lot has happened today. Reckon you ain't heard the news."

I blinked, trying to look as confused and disoriented as possible. It wasn't difficult, given the circumstances. "News? What news? I... I don't even know where I am or how I got here."

The guards shared another look, this one filled with a mix of relief and excitement. "We won," one of them said, his voice filled with awe. "The Dark Lord Morthisal has been defeated. The war is over."

I let my eyes widen, hoping my expression conveyed the right mix of shock and disbelief. "The war... over?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Few days ago. His fortress fell and was burned to the ground. Heard a lot of lads went down to piss on the ashes.”

Fell a few days ago? Wow. When I’d activated the scroll, not only had I been zapped here–wherever here was–but also forward in time. What a trip, man. Literally.

The guards nodded eagerly, seemingly buying my act. "Come on," one said, gently taking my arm. "Let's get you to the healers. They can look at that head wound and maybe help you remember who you are."

As we walked away from the pit, the full extent of the battlefield came into view. The air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and something else—something sickly sweet that I didn't want to identify. Broken weapons and shattered shields littered the ground, glinting dully in the torchlight. In the distance, I could make out the silhouettes of siege engines, their massive frames looming against the night sky like sleeping giants.

I caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows. For a brief moment, I thought I saw Churl's eyes gleaming in the darkness. Then she was gone, and I was left to face whatever came next on my own.

As we walked, I couldn't help but feel out of place. Everything was so alien. The clothes, the weapons, and even the way people spoke were all so different from what I was used to. It hit me then: foreign world, same human nature. I wasn't sure if that was comforting or terrifying.

As we passed by groups of soldiers, snippets of their conversations drifted to my ears.

"...heard the Dark Lord's body wasn't found..."

"...can't believe it's finally over..."

"...what do we do now? Go home?"

Their words were a mix of relief, disbelief, and uncertainty.

As we walked, I touched the amulet hidden beneath my stolen clothes. It was warm against my skin, reminding me of the magic that had saved my life and the massive secret I now carried. Whatever happened next, I knew one thing for certain: I couldn't let anyone find out who—or what—I really was.