Part of me believed I would open my eyes and meet either God or the Devil.

It was an old woman, with the nose of a witch and the smile of a toothless angel. And she was also green.

“Good to see you woke.” She said, smiling. “I thought I had lost you at least four times in the last week.

Week? The realization that I had been out for more than a day sent a raw bolt of adrenaline through my body, which made me get up. Even with all the adrenaline pumping inside me, I still managed to stop and be surprised by the fact that I did in fact, got up.

“Easy there big boy, your bones and all else are still mending."

"Where am I?" I asked while inspecting the scar on the left side of my body. It was a big mess of a scar that looked like a whirlpool with some tendrils.

"On Warden's grounds." She answered with such pride, I felt ashamed to ask what it was. "Who are you? You fell from the sky."

"I -" As I was about to answer her, I realized it may not be the best approach. I didn't believe she would be dangerous, or I would not be alive, but it was better to avoid any unnecessary complications. "I can't remember."

"Poor thing." She said, with such empathy in her voice, I almost felt like a jerk. "Wait wait, I come back with food."

I watched as she left, she was tall and strong. With a long red ponytail dangling behind her head; and hippo ass. Damn, that thing was so massive it felt impossible.

The room I was in was really small. With a single bed and a table full of instruments and vials of all sizes and shapes. There were also the remains of bloody bandages scattered on the floor. This room was probably akin to a medieval hospital.

That brought a sour taste to my mouth.

The scar itched as I remember all the surreal events that I had survived.

Alone.

"I should be dead," I muttered to myself.

"From my experience, those who lost their memories do not wish to be dead." A strong male voice said, startling me. A man entered the room, dressed in a thick black cloth, and wearing armor that was made of leather and chains. A short ax rested at his belt, and he had a long sword attached to a belt on his back. "So, be honest, who are you?"

He also had the dangerous fierce gaze of someone who knew when you were lying.

"Just a deadman."

"A deadman?" He rested with his back against the wall, took a smoking pipe from a pocket, and started to smoke. "The dead don't talk, and those who do… I make sure they join the first group."

After all, I saw, I had no doubt.

He probably took my silence as permission for him to speak. "Normally, those who lie about who they are, are either ashamed or running from something."

If there was ever a father who didn't feel ashamed for losing both his daughter and beloved bride, I would be the first in line to punch him in the face. "None, I'm the kind who had his world shattered."

He pointed the smoke pip toward me. "You were from Earth, right?"

"How do you know?" I asked, suspiciously.

"You are not carded; you are weak like an ass; and you were spat out from the sky. Not many places you could have come."

"None of what you said made any sense to me."

He shrugs. "I figured, welcome to the real world."

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"Stop teasing my patient!!" The green old woman shouted as she entered the room with a place of meat. The smell was so strong and delicious, it made my mouth wet. I hadn't realized how famished I was until she, against my own will, mouth-fed me like a little child.

"Oh boy, you are so ridiculous right now." The smoking man said, laughing. "She is a troll by the way, and they have a strong motherly nature."

"I'm Marta." The troll said, pushing the last spoon of meat into my mouth. "The asshole there is Rodrigues. A pain in the ass, but amazing with a sword."

"Aron. And yeah, sorry, I lied."

"I already knew. You suck at lying."

"So, uh? What will happen now?"

Rodrigues cleared his throat. "You pay for the treatment, a month doing laundry should be enough or."

He let it linger for a while.

"Or?"

"You join the Wardens."

"You know I have no idea of what a warden is, right?"

"I know, come let's walk."

Marta pointed the spoon at him. "He can't, he is in treatment."

"He can, what is the worst that can happen? Worst case you treat him again."

Marta smiled at that, which sent a chill through my body.

She helped me get up, and to get used to walking again. I was feeling weak, and my body took a moment to respond as intended. This was still surreal, for I was sure I had broken my column with the fall.

Rodrigues walked me through the place while explaining my new reality. "Long ago there was a single world. Something, we don't know what happened one day and shattered the world in millions of parts. We call these realms."

He pointed toward a window, where a group of boys were being trained to fight with swords. "This had consequences, it disturbed the mana, the life energy of basically everything."

A blond woman, who I would have guessed was an elf if not by the single horn at the left side of her head, saw us and waved.

"The wardens are an independent organization. We protect the realms, and hunt for new crises before they happen."

"Didn't work for Earth." I spat.

He hit my head with his smoking pipe. "Short version: Some realms have so little mana, we don't even know they exist until something happens."

"Like a monster invasion?"

He turned his attention away from me, clearly nervous. "I don't like to lie, no, not at all. That was planned, somehow."

I looked at the boys again. A fat boy had been hit by a taller one, who dropped him on the ground.

"That was planned," I told him, pointing to the boys. "What happened on earth made no sense."

"Not until we figure out why."

"They took my girl," I told him, smashing the stone balcony with the bottom of my closed fist. "They were, ugly. Dressed in a dark ritualistic robe, full of spikes and other self-torture appeal. Ring any bells?"

Rodrigues was pale like milk. "Fuck yes, it does."

"Who are they?"

"Out of your league."

I held him by the shoulder. "I want a name!"

He took me by the collar of the shirt, shoved me against the wall, and hit my chest with a finger. "Hear me and hear me well you piece of shit. This is classified information, don't even mention what you know about them."

"They killed my wife. They took my newborn daughter from my arms. Don't tell me what to do."

He punched me in the face, breaking my nose. Then he shoved me against the ground. "Become a Warden and hope you survive long enough to do something."

I glared at him.

He offered me a hand and helped me up.

To be fair, I knew nothing about the world or the Wardens, and his story could have been full of shit. Yet it was the best clue I had to learn the truth of my family's death and to make something out of it.

My blood was boiling, and I would give anything for a chance to make the responsible suffer as much as I had.

Vanessa would have said that revenge is not the right way.

But she was dead and I needed it.

"I'm in."

He smirked.

"Good, I'm gonna have so much fun beating your sore ass."

"Uh?" Was all I could say before he grabbed me again, and tossed me outside the window. I fell over a brush; the leaves entered my mouth and a branch almost blinded me.

I got up, and left the brush, realizing the boys were looking at me. Weapons ready and with the smirk of a predator.

"Rule one," Rodrigues said. "Always be prepared for the worse."

The fat boy looked at me like I was some awaited prize.

"And rule two. The loser doesn't eat dinner."

"That's gonna hurt." The woman who looked like a Lord of the Ring elf said.

And as one, the boys rushed toward me. There were too many, and so fast that all I could do was shield myself from the rain of blows until a screen appeared in my field of vision.

I couldn't read it, and like the universe or whatever understood that; a cynical female voice echoed inside my mind.

You are such a good target that it is pleasant and easy to hit you! Looks like someone is out of dinner tonight!

But hey, at least you tried.

Sorry, you didn't, you are a lamme weak bastard.

Constitution +1.

"The fuck?"

Someone hit me in the face.

Either you are a masochist; weaker than a child or maybe both!

Constitution +1.

Please, do something. This is embarrassing, even for me.

With love, the voice in your head.

I fell on the ground, feeling like trash. My body was painfully arching, and I was out of breath.

"Dinner!" The fat boy screamed.

I felt no pride in it.

But I made a silent promise that I would beat his ass.