Chapter-1 : Baseless Actions

"Ugh, my head…" Said our main character as his temples throbbed, and as he tried to move, a wave of discomfort rolled through his body. "Everything hurts..." His muscles ached, like he had been tossed around, every movement sluggish and stiff.

Slowly, he pushed himself up, wincing as his body protested with each motion. He rubbed his eyes, hoping to ease some of the dull ache behind them, but it did little to help. His legs felt shaky as he stood, his head still spinning slightly.

As his vision cleared, he realized he was standing in the middle of a sprawling, overgrown cornfield. The stalks around him stood tall but ragged, their leaves dry and brown at the edges, some broken and bent in strange angles. Weeds had overtaken much of the ground between the rows—tangled masses of thistles and wild grass choking the earth, competing with the neglected corn for space and light.

Clusters of creeping vines snaked up the weaker stalks, their leaves broad and dark, as if feeding on the field’s decay. In the distance, patches of the cornfield had turned wild, with plants leaning sideways or lying flat, creating open gaps where the earth looked cracked and bare. A few stray dandelions and brambles poked through the mess, and the soft buzz of insects filled the air.

Marcus stared at the wild scene, breathing deeply as he tried to take it all in. A nervous chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, still feels good to be outside my room after a long time. Just a pity my 8-month strike is over." He shook his head, trying to push away the creeping fear with a forced grin, though the unsettling quiet of the field lingered in the back of his mind.

Suddenly, Marcus felt a strange sensation—like someone was shaking him, even though his body hadn’t moved an inch. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but the feeling grew stronger. At the same time, he felt a gentle pull, as if an invisible force was guiding him. It wasn’t overpowering, but it was persistent, tugging at him with a faint, irresistible urge.

His gaze darted around, but there was no one to be seen. The cornfield remained as silent and desolate as before. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to follow the pull. With each step, the sensation grew a bit stronger, the pull more defined.

"Alright, let’s see where this goes," he muttered to himself, trying to shake off the last vestiges of fear and curiosity as he followed the gentle tug. The field seemed to shift slightly as he moved, the feeling of being guided growing clearer.

As he continued to follow the pull, the world around him seemed to blur and spin. A wave of disorientation hit him, and he felt as though he was reliving the same sensation he had experienced before. This time, however, it wasn’t a dull pain but a profound weakness, as if all his energy had been dispersed into the air.

When the spinning stopped, Marcus found himself lying down with his eyes still closed. His eyelids felt heavy, as if they hadn't been opened in a long time. He was on an elevated surface, possibly a bed or a platform. He could feel his hand dangling slightly to the side, and a gentle pressure on it told him that someone was holding his hand. The touch was both reassuring and mysterious.

He focused on the sensation, trying to piece together what was happening while keeping his eyes shut, the weight of his eyelids making him reluctant to open them. The presence beside him was so comforting that he felt there was something more to it than just a touch.

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As he lay there, he became aware of an odd sensation. Even with his eyes closed, he felt as though he was surrounded by something akin to an illusion of matter. His body didn’t physically feel it, but his mind sensed its presence. It was as if he was enveloped by a substance he could mold at will, yet the sheer magnitude of it felt overwhelming—like a force or power beyond his imagination, too vast and unfathomable to fully grasp.

Just as he was trying to make sense of this enigmatic force, a voice broke the silence. It was the voice of an old woman, carrying a tone of deep respect and gentle concern. "Lord, are you awake?"

Realizing he couldn't ignore his surroundings any longer and had to face whatever was happening, Marcus mustered the strength to force his eyes open. As his heavy eyelids slowly lifted, he began to take in his surroundings.

He found himself in an old, expansive room that resembled something out of a medieval castle. The space was vast, its high stone walls adorned with ancient tapestries and flickering shadows cast by a single torch. The torch, oddly devoid of flames, emitted a soft, glowing light that bathed the room in a gentle, moonlit ambiance.

The room was sparsely furnished. Aside from the torch, the only notable piece was the bed he lay on, covered with only a thin layer of cloth for bedding. The bed was large and simple, its wooden frame worn with age.

Sitting by the edge of the bed was an old woman, her presence gentle and reverent. She held Marcus's hand, which glowed with a faint, pale blue hue. The light seemed to emanate from her touch, casting an ethereal glow that contrasted with the moonlit illumination from the torch.

The room was otherwise empty, its vastness accentuated by the minimal furnishings and the quiet stillness that enveloped it. The air was thick with an unspoken history, and the atmosphere carried a sense of both calm and ancient mystery.

Marcus looked at the old woman holding his hand and, trying to steady his voice, asked, "What do you want?" His question came out a bit hoarse, as if his throat had been drained of moisture.

Hearing Marcus speak, the old woman’s wrinkled face lit up with joy. She completely ignored his question, her eyes shining with relief and happiness. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re awake!” she exclaimed, as if he had been asleep for years. Without waiting for a response, she hurriedly rose from her seat. “I will get Agner! Please, wait just a while!” she said, and with that, she dashed out of the room through a door on the far side.

Feeling a bit annoyed that the woman had ignored his question, Marcus closed his eyes once again. He tried to focus on that strange sensation he had felt earlier, hoping to reconnect with the enigmatic force that had surrounded him.

Feeling a bit annoyed that the woman had ignored his question, Marcus closed his eyes once again. As soon as he did, he tried to connect with the strange sensation he had felt earlier. It was rather easy this time; he was swiftly pulled back to the same space filled with corn he had been in before. Now, with his senses more alert, the feeling of being able to control and mold the environment became much clearer. The cornfield seemed more pliable, and the power to reshape it into anything he desired was more tangible.

He decided to test this newfound control. Reaching out, he grabbed a dry corn leaf from one of the stalks. He tried to split it, and to his surprise, it tore easily. While the leaf was old and dry, making it naturally brittle, what astonished him was how it split. Instead of the usual jagged tears or crumbling that one would expect from such a leaf, it parted perfectly down the middle. The split was clean and precise, as if it had been carefully sliced rather than simply torn apart.

Feeling a surge of excitement, Marcus kicked a nearby corn stalk. It broke apart with minimal effort, and he picked up the broken piece, holding it in his hand. This time, he decided to try a different approach. He focused on the same stalk, keeping his hands away, and simply willed it to break. To his delight, it split effortlessly.

As he wanted to experiment further with the land and even the sky, he suddenly felt the familiar sensation of a gentle shake. The pull returned, drawing him away from the cornfield. He followed the sensation, and in an instant, he found himself back on the bed, his eyes closed and the old woman’s hand still holding his shoulders and shaking him.

As soon as he moved, the old woman removed her hands.

Marcus opened his eyes and saw two more people in the room: an old but strong man and a teenage girl who looked to be about his age.

Marcus opened his eyes and saw two more people in the room: an old but strong man and a teenage girl. He completely ignored the old man and woman as his gaze fixated on the girl. She had brown hair and blue eyes that seemed to pull him in, their depth like an ocean. Her petite body drew his attention. He kept staring at her as his eyes gradually became filled with lust and desire.