The sun had fully set, casting the world into an eerie twilight.

Juan's eyes snapped open, his senses assaulted by the unfamiliar sounds of water lapping around him.

As he pushed himself up, a wave of nausea washed over him. His head throbbed, and his surroundings seemed to spin.

Blinking away the fog, he focused on the setting sun, its golden rays casting a glow across the shoreline.

Where am I?

Juan noticed an unfamiliar stone axe in his hand, his fingers trembling as he tried to make sense of how it had ended up there. His school uniform, rumpled and damp with sea spray, clung to his frame, a stark contrast to the primitive weapon in his grasp.

Panic rose in his chest as he scanned the deserted shoreline, the crashing waves and swaying palms serving as the only witnesses to his bizarre predicament. His mind raced, grasping at fragmented memories like a damaged film reel.

The last thing he recalled was the blinding light in the classroom, the panicked shouts of his classmates, and then... nothing.

Juan's heart pounded as he struggled to piece together what had happened, his gaze darting from the unfamiliar landscape to his clothes.

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to take a steadying breath, willing his racing thoughts to slow.

Think slowly, Juan. Focus.

Juan rose on unsteady legs, gripping the axe tighter as his eyes scanned the horizon for any sign of familiarity, any clue that might lead him to an answer.

Then, a realization dawned on him—was he truly still himself?

Hurrying toward a small puddle in the sand, he dropped to his knees beside it. Peering into the still water, he saw his reflection—a young man with dark, disheveled hair, pale skin, and brown eyes framed by slightly crooked glasses.

Raising a trembling hand, Juan touched the surface of the water, watching the ripples distort his image.

It's still me…

Damn it, I knew watching all those isekai anime would mess up my head, he thought, his breath catching in his throat. The realization that he was still himself seemed to ground him, if only for a moment.

Straightening his glasses, Juan tidied himself, brushing off the sand and seaweed that clung to his uniform.

As he adjusted his clothes, his attention was drawn to a small book hanging at his right hip, secured by a chain. Intrigued, Juan examined the item, following the chain with his fingers. To his astonishment, the chain vanished just before reaching his skin, as if it were attached indirectly without any visible link.

The turmoil in his mind was overwhelming. Is this all just a dream?

Wincing, he slapped himself. It hurt.

Juan held the simple leather-bound book with a worn cover. The edges were frayed, and the binding creaked when he opened it. Inside, the pages were smooth and untouched, their surface as pristine as if the book were brand new. It felt heavier than it looked, but Juan paid it no mind.

Confusion rose as he opened the book to its middle pages and began reading. An entry caught his eye:

> "Day 4 - I met Diana and agreed to become teammates soulmates." Skimming further, he read, "She's cute, to be honest... Day 8 - Do not go to any Ruins."

This is a diary?

Juan's eyes narrowed, tracing the cramped entries. The sloppy handwriting blurred across the pages, making his head throb. He pressed his palms to his forehead, willing the pain to subside.

Stolen story; please report.

As the last ember of daylight faded, Juan slammed the book shut, its weight pressing against his chest like a stone.

I can’t stay here.

His eyes darted toward the forest. It didn’t look any safer, but at least it wasn’t as open as the shoreline. He hated the water—the endless, dark depths where anything could be lurking, just out of sight. The thought of spending the night exposed—completely vulnerable to whatever was out here—made his stomach twist.

Juan’s legs felt like lead as he took a hesitant step forward, then stopped. “I should just stay put. Maybe someone’s looking for me. Maybe…” He looked down at his shoes, now half-buried in the sand. The truth gnawed at him: nobody was coming. He was alone, as always.

With a deep breath, he took his first tentative steps, the crunch of his shoes against the coarse sand the only sound breaking the eerie silence.

Juan scanned the area, a mixture of fear and adrenaline coursing through him. The lush vegetation surrounding him was both beautiful and ominous, a contrast to the shoreline he had awoken on. There must be a road… or someone else out here, just as lost as I am.

After what felt like an eternity of walking through the underbrush, a sudden, piercing screech from nearby undergrowth caused him to flinch.

Juan froze, his eyes locking onto a creature that shouldn’t exist. It rippled in the dim light, its body shifting like liquid caught between forms. One moment it stretched tall and spindly, the next it condensed into a quivering, amorphous mass. His breath hitched, the unnatural movement gnawing at the edges of his sanity. Then, it happened—its surface bubbled and warped until a face emerged. Juan’s stomach dropped as recognition struck. It was one of his classmates. "Juan…" it rasped, the distorted voice a mockery of familiarity.

He stumbled back as the thing’s shape shifted again. The face melted away, replaced by the hulking frame of a dog. Its maw opened impossibly wide, drool and sludge dripping as it lunged at him with a snarl.

Juan swung the axe in sheer desperation, the force of his fear driving the blow. The blade cleaved through the creature’s form, but instead of resistance, there was only a sickening squelch. The axe passed harmlessly through.

Before he could react, a cold, slimy mass engulfed his head, the creature’s gelatinous body clinging to him like a suffocating second skin. Juan clawed at it, panicked.

Struggling to breathe, Juan flailed, dropping his axe and frantically clawing at his own head, desperate to escape the creature's grip. The agony was searing. With a desperate effort, the creature's hold on him finally broke, and Juan collapsed onto the sand, gasping for breath as his frame shook with unease.

The creature didn’t flinch. Gritting his teeth, he reached down and grabbed the stone axe, its weight a steadying force in his trembling hands.

With a renewed sense of determination, Juan surged forward, swinging the crude weapon with all his might. The axe struck the creature's shifting form, and to his surprise, it recoiled. Juan pressed his attack, raining down blow after blow, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

The creature's liquid-like body splattered and oozed with each impact until, finally, it began to melt away, collapsing into a puddle at Juan's feet. Amidst the remains, a blue orb and a torn piece of paper caught his eye. Loot drop?

“This... this isn’t real,” Juan muttered under his breath, his voice shaky. His mind wrestled with what had just happened—replaying the creature’s eerie transformation, the suffocating grip on his head. He took a step back, but the puddle and the loot didn’t vanish. It stayed there, a reminder of the events he was caught in.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Juan knelt down, his eyes narrowing as he examined the strange objects. The orb pulsed with an otherworldly blue light, while the torn paper appeared to be some kind of familiar. Ah, it looks just like the pages in the book on my hip—only this one’s got tattered edges and stains.

Juan stared at the tattered page, frustration etched on his face. The fading light made it impossible to read the faint scribbles. He brought the page closer, squinting his eyes, but the words remained unreadable.

Am I really still on Earth? he wondered.

The appearance of the strange, shapeshifting creature had shattered any illusions he might have had about this being a simple dream or hallucination.

No, this is too real. Too damn real.

Juan's eyes fell to the glowing blue orb that rested on the ground. He reached out, his fingers brushing against its pulsing surface.

As he was about to store both the orb and the torn page in his pants pocket, the items touched the mysterious book dangling at his waist. Suddenly, the book flashed, and the orb and page were absorbed into it, vanishing from sight.

Juan stared in bewilderment, his hand hovering where the objects had just been. He tried to process what had just occurred.

I better stop thinking. Calm down. Juan tried to steady his nerves. It seems the answer to my current situation is in this book.

I need a safe place... His gaze settled on the towering trees. Without hesitation, he holstered the stone axe and approached the nearest tree, searching for sturdy branches to climb.

Carefully, he made his way up, the rough bark biting into his palms as he pulled himself higher. Once he reached a suitable height, Juan settled onto a thick branch, his eyes scanning the horizon.

The clouds began to part, and the moonlight spilled through, casting illumination over the landscape.

Juan opened the book again, his fingers skimming the faint text on the pages. Perhaps the answers he sought lay within these words.

As he turned to the first page, he noticed words and symbols written in a deep crimson hue.

*Remember Death. IIII-I