As he lay in his makeshift shelter, Tatsuya was jolted awake by an inexplicable feeling. The moon, a radiant sphere of blue light, hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the alien landscape. As he stepped out of his shelter, the air was thick with the sounds of the night—creatures chirping and rustling in the underbrush, creating a symphony of the unknown.

His eyes were drawn to a distant, flickering light on the horizon. It danced like a will-o'-the-wisp, a tantalizing beacon calling him forth. Driven by a sense of purpose, Tatsuya navigated through the surreal prairie, guided solely by the ethereal glow.

The walk, though it felt considerable, was a journey through the unknown. The landscape seemed to stretch endlessly, and the light remained elusive, just out of reach. Anticipation and dread coiled in his chest as the unnatural glow transformed into a roaring blaze—the flickering orange and red of a burning fire.

The scent of smoke permeated the air, and the crackling of burning wood filled Tatsuya's ears. He quickened his pace, fueled by a terrible suspicion. Was this a remnant of the past, a scar left by someone else who had found their way into this enigmatic realm?

Finally arriving at the source of the fire, Tatsuya was met with a heart-wrenching sight. The village lay in ruins, the aftermath of a battle fought hours ago. The once-quaint homes were reduced to embers, and the air was heavy with the acrid scent of destruction.

As Tatsuya stepped further into the remnants of the village, a sinking feeling settled in his chest. The signs of a recent struggle were evident in the scattered debris—broken structures, charred remnants, and makeshift barricades hastily erected in a futile attempt to repel an assailant. A shiver ran down Tatsuya's spine as he considered the brutality of the encounter. The air, thick with the scent of burnt wood and the metallic tang of blood, bore witness to the clash between the unknown assailants and the resilient villagers.

In the dim light of the dying embers, Tatsuya's eyes scanned the surroundings, revealing a haunting scene. The lifeless bodies of villagers lay strewn across the village, their expressions frozen in a mixture of agony and despair. Some clutched makeshift weapons—an assortment of farming tools and hastily crafted spears—as if defiantly attempting to protect their homes.

His gaze lingered on a group of fallen villagers near what he thinks once was the village center. The remnants of a communal gathering place now bore witness to the aftermath of a desperate struggle. The bodies told a silent story of ordinary people turned warriors, fighting for their homes against an inexplicable threat.

Tatsuya's mind whirred with thoughts as he pieced together the narrative of the battle that had unfolded. The attackers, driven by prejudice or a misguided sense of fear, had descended upon the village with destructive intent. The villagers, unprepared for such a violent incursion, had rallied to defend their homes, wielding whatever tools they could find as makeshift weapons.

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Makeshift barricades hinted at the villagers' attempt to create a last line of defense, a futile resistance against a force that proved overpowering. The air of tragedy hung thick in the air, and Tatsuya couldn't escape the realization that these villagers had fought not for conquest but for survival. Each villager bore signs of the struggle—a mix of wounds inflicted by crude weapons and burns from the merciless flames that had consumed their homes.

Some lay near shattered remnants of wooden structures, their lifeless forms contorted in the final moments of struggle. Others were found near the barricades, suggesting a desperate attempt to hold their ground against the attackers. The scene painted a grim picture of a community united in its fight for survival but ultimately overcome by an overwhelming force.

Tatsuya couldn't help but feel a deep sense of sorrow for these villagers, whose lives had been abruptly extinguished in a battle they never sought. Their homes, now reduced to ashes, held the echoes of their dreams and aspirations, cruelly cut short by an unforeseen tragedy.

The makeshift weapons scattered around the village told a story of resilience and defiance—a community pushed to the brink, choosing to stand their ground in the face of adversity. Yet, the outcome was one of tragedy, leaving behind a shattered village and the lingering question of who or what had led to this devastating assault.

As he walked through the village his eyes scanned the remnants, searching for any signs of life. Amidst the devastation, a crying infant lay on the edge of the forest, untouched by the flames but perilously close to danger.

Tatsuya rushed to the baby's side, his heart pounding with a mixture of emotions—sorrow for the village, confusion about the baby's presence, and a newfound determination to protect the fragile life before him. The infant, wrapped in a simple cloth, wailed in distress, its tiny fists flailing as if reaching out for comfort.

The child's cries echoed through the air, a desperate plea that tugged at Tatsuya's very core. Gently cradling the child in his arms, Tatsuya whispered soothing words, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the chilling night air. "It's okay, little one. You're safe now."

The child's tearful eyes blinked up at him, and Tatsuya couldn't fathom how this baby had survived the calamity that had befallen the village. The once vibrant community now lay in ruins, and the questions swirling in Tatsuya's mind multiplied.

As he looked around, a knot formed in his stomach. Amidst the ashes, he noticed the motionless forms of two adults, presumably the baby's parents. Tatsuya's heart sank as he hesitated to approach. He couldn't confirm their identity; he didn't know them personally, but the unspoken assumption lingered in the air.

The remnants of the village, now reduced to smoldering embers, seemed to whisper a tale of tragedy and loss. Tatsuya found himself caught in a paradox—he had stumbled upon a scene that unfolded before him, yet it felt like a personal journey through the shattered remnants of someone else's life.

Gazing at the burning embers, he contemplated the cruel fate that had led him to this place. The questions echoed louder in his mind, demanding answers that seemed elusive in the face of the unknown. Tatsuya's heart ached at the tragedy that had unfolded here.

"Why did this happen? What brought such destruction to your doorstep?" Tatsuya's questions hung in the air, unanswered, but the desire for understanding etched across his features.

With the baby nestled in his arms, Tatsuya stood at the edge of the devastation, staring into the flickering flames. The infant's cries gradually subsided, replaced by crackling of the dying fire.

The world around him seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for Tatsuya to make sense of the inexplicable. The weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders—he had become a guardian, a protector, in a realm where every step was shrouded in uncertainty.

As the night wore on, Tatsuya's mind churned with conflicting emotions. The destroyed village bore witness to the cruelty of the world he now found himself in, while the fragile life in his arms represented hope amidst the ashes.

Tatsuya knew that the path ahead was fraught with challenges, but the baby in his arms became a symbol of resilience, a reason to navigate the mysteries that awaited in this enigmatic world.

Tatsuya: "But what am i gonna do now, how am i even gonna feed her."