In the depths of unconsciousness, a voice broke through the void in Leon’s mind. It was not loud, nor was it familiar. It was distant, calm, yet it carried a strange weight.

[Survivor Level 2!]

The words echoed in his head, tugging him out of the darkness. His eyelids fluttered as the dull ache of his body registered, and slowly, Leon stirred awake.

His vision was blurry at first, his senses sluggish. A gentle warmth enveloped him, cocooning him in layers of soft furs that smelled faintly of animals.

Blinking against the dim light, he pushed himself up, a wave of disorientation washing over him, and slowly took in his surroundings.

The first thing he noticed was the sheer size of the space he occupied. The tent was massive, its rounded walls stretching high above him, formed from the pelts of some great beasts. In the center, a fire crackled, its flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the walls. The heat from the fire felt comforting against his skin. The air smelled of smoke, leather, and something musky he couldn’t quite place.

As he attempted to fully regain his senses, a jolt of reality struck him like a lightning bolt.

He was entirely naked, lying beneath thick furs of dead animals in a tent of some kind. His short nowhere to be seen. An unsettling vulnerability rushed through him. Panic gripped his chest, and he quickly scanned the area, his heart pounding in his ears.

He remembered—The pool, the heat of the sun, the giggles of his little sister. Then, a sudden, biting cold, and finally... nothing. A void.

Where was he? The thought raced through his mind, but before he could piece together the fragments of his memory, the flaps of the tent suddenly parted with a soft rustle.

Leon’s breath caught in his throat as a creature stepped inside, its silhouette outlined by the firelight.

It stood tall—easily towering over any human Leon had ever seen—with broad shoulders and a muscular frame covered in thick, grey fur. The creature resembled something between a wolf and a hyena, though it walked upright on two legs. Its long snout twitched as it sniffed the air, its sharp eyes gleaming, and its ears perked forward as it spotted him.

A primal terror gripped Leon. The creature’s lips pulled back into a smile, revealing rows of sharp, white fangs.

Leon’s body reacted before his mind could. He scrambled backward, throwing the furs off him as if they were burning, his heart racing wildly.

“Stay back!” he shouted, his voice hoarse and frantic. He fumbled to his side, desperately seeking anything that could be used as a weapon. Panic tightened its grip on his throat, making it hard to breathe.

The creature paused, its expression shifting from curiosity to concern. “Human! You are safe,” it said, its voice deep and rumbling, yet strangely soothing amidst the chaos of Leon's thoughts. “Do not fear. I mean you no harm.”

Leon stared, black eyes wide open, as the creature moved closer, its claws outstretched, but not in aggression. It seemed to be trying to comfort him.

Was this thing talking? How? Confusion mingled with terror within Leon’s mind.

The Gnoll—Kraka, as it called itself—was not only talking. It was wearing clothes. A pale grey robe made of rough, woven material, perhaps from some kind of hide or fur, but unmistakably crafted. It was draped over his body and hung loosely from his shoulders, leaving his broad, fur-covered chest exposed, while the rest of the fabric flowed down to cover his legs and sides.

“Safe,” the talking monster repeated, gesturing around the tent, as if to reinforce its statement. “You were found in the snow. We brought you here. You are safe with us.”

Leon shook his head, struggling to process the situation. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly and completely lost. “Get away from me!” he shouted again, scrambling to the edge of the bed, panic blurring his thoughts.

It halted, its ears lowering slightly in a gesture that Leon instinctively recognized as submission. “I will not harm you,” it said softly. “You are among friends. My name is Kraka. I am a Gnoll, and Chieftain of the Er’Dovaz Clan. You are safe here.”

Kraka? A Gnoll? Chieftain? The words swirled in his mind, but were drowned out by the deafening pulse of adrenaline. Leon’s breathing quickened, his heart racing like a wild drum. He caught sight of a makeshift table covered with strange items—bones, furs, and unfamiliar tools.

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This was it. He was going to die.

“Calm,” Kraka urged, taking a step back, its voice steady and low. “You are weak from the cold. You need warmth, and food. We can help you. We already have, in fact.”

Leon looked around frantically, desperate to escape this bizarre reality. The walls of the tent felt like they were closing in, the warmth turning stifling.

“Help? How can I trust you?” He shouted, trembling, grappling with the absurdity of the situation.

“Trust is earned, I understand this,” Kraka replied, still maintaining a respectful distance. “But we saved you. Do you remember the snowstorm? It would have taken you. We find you frozen, on the brink of death.”

As Leon’s gaze flickered from “Kraka” to the flickering flames of the fire, he felt a flicker of doubt in his fear. The storm? He remembered being cold. So very cold.

Kraka’s pale eyes bore into his, a mix of compassion and concern reflecting within their depths. “You are not alone,” it said. “Not anymore. You are amongst friends here. With the Er’Dovaz. Safe.”

With the what?

Leon’s heart wavered, caught between instinct and reason.

“Where am I?” He managed to ask. His voice sounded weak, foreign to his own ears. “How did I get here?”

The Gnoll’s ears flicked forward as if to show it was listening. “I already told you, you were found in the snow, nearly frozen. We saved you.”

Leon frowned, trying to make sense of what it was saying. The words sounded familiar, but the meaning behind them was like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. His head throbbed.

“The... snow? But I was...” He shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts. The memory of his sister’s laughter, the pool, the warm sun—it was so vivid, but now it felt like it belonged to a different life.

“No... I don’t understand. Where’s my family? We were at the pool and—and…” He paused, and looked around, shaking, “Are we... are we on Earth?”

The Gnoll blinked, its ears twitching in confusion. Then, with a deliberate motion, it stamped one heavy paw against the ground, the sharp claws scraping t against the packed earth beneath the furs.

“This is earth,” it said, tapping the ground again with emphasis. “But if by “Earth”, you mean the name of the land you come from, then I do not know of it.’

Leon’s stomach twisted. A cold realization began to creep in, more terrifying than the freezing storm outside. His mouth was dry as he forced the next words out.

“Do you... do you know of a place called France?” Leon asked, his voice shaking, but a part of him hoped that maybe, just maybe, there would be some connection, some hint of familiarity.

The creature calling itself Kraka tilted his head again, the same confusion glinting in his eyes. “France?” he repeated, tasting the word with furrowed brows, before shaking his head, “I know of no such place.”

Leon’s heart sank again. He was almost certain now. Wherever he was, it wasn’t just a distant place on Earth. It wasn’t some hidden part of the world—of his world.

“France,” Leon repeated, feeling a strange desperation rise in his chest. “It’s a country. On Earth. Where I’m from.”

Kraka blinked slowly, his expression remaining unchanged. But then something shifted in his eyes—something unsettling. He seemed to pause, thinking, considering the words more deeply.

“I have not heard of such a place, human. There is no ‘France’ here, nor am I aware of any other land that sounds like it. But perhaps…”

As he said this, Kraka’s voice lowered, the rumbling of it almost thoughtful. He leaned forward just a fraction, his massive form suddenly casting a larger shadow in the firelight. His grey eyes, like the color of the sky in winter, once merely curious, now seemed to gleam with a new intensity—a hunger.

“...perhaps your world and mine are not the same.”

Leon felt a chill creep up his spine—not from the cold, but from the shift in Kraka’s demeanor. It was subtle, but there was something about the way the Gnoll looked at him now, as if the realization that they came from different worlds made Leon more than just a helpless creature to save. He was something... different. New. And in Kraka’s eyes, that difference seemed to awaken a deeper, more primal curiosity. It was like being a mouse suddenly aware of the interest of a hawk. Or a wolf.

Leon’s chest tightened with fear.

“Your world is not the same as mine,” Kraka repeated, his voice quieter now, but somehow more intense. “How did you come here, human? What brought you to this land, to Borealis?”

Borealis?

Was this the name of—of this place?

Leon’s heart pounded. Kraka’s questions felt like an interrogation, and though his tone wasn’t overtly threatening, there was something about the way he asked, something that made Leon feel as if his own presence here was more than just an accident. Like Kraka was searching for something in him, something he thought was important.

“I—I don’t know,” Leon stammered, his voice shaky. “I was just... at home. By the pool. With my family. And then... I was here. In the cold. I don’t know how.” Leon shook his head, eyes suddenly brimming with tears, “Truly, I don’t.”

Kraka’s ears flicked, and for a moment, he remained still, eyes narrowed as if measuring Leon’s words. The fire crackled between them, but the warmth seemed to vanish from the tent, replaced by a cold and tense silence.

Then Kraka leaned back, his posture more relaxed, but his eyes never left Leon. “You are a mystery, human,” he said, his voice low and thoughtful. “And mysteries... are rarely accidents.” He paused, then added, “Rest. You will need your strength. When you are ready, we shall speak again.”

Leon found himself crawling back under the furs, trying to create as much distance as possible between him—and the Gnoll.

Without another word, Kraka turned and left the tent, but even as he disappeared into the swirling snow outside, Leon could feel the weight of those pale, haunting eyes lingering in his mind, and all the questions that came with them.