Arthur awoke, a mundane act considering he'd woken up every day of his life. Normally, it was in his bed or sometimes on the couch, and occasionally, he'd find himself in her bed. But today was different. As he groggily rubbed his drowsy eyes, he realized that something hard and uncomfortable was pressing into his back.

Blinking, he surveyed his surroundings, and the rustling of leaves and bushes indicated that he was no longer at home. He lay on a patch of moss beneath a tree, with a canopy of leaves above.

He took a deep breath.

He had some experience with lucid dreaming and, to confirm his state, he examined his hands. Apparently your brain struggles to make out fine details from your hands in a lucid dream. To Arthur, his hands look real enough. As follow up test, he smacked himself across the face. Not very hard, but hard enough to notice. The pain lasted.

He took a few quicker, shorter breaths.

He racked his memory, recalling that he'd been watching Netflix on his phone before going to bed. He hadn't gone out with friends nor would his friends take to time to set up an elaborate prank like this.

His thoughts were interrupted by a gust of wind, which sent leaves swirling around him. He noticed he was dressed only in underwear and a t-shirt. Thankful that he wasn't one of those people who slept naked, his relief was short-lived. His glasses were missing, and he could hardly see beyond ten meters without them.

As he rose to his feet, sunlight pierced through the oak trees, casting a picturesque scene of a forest. He might have appreciated it under different circumstances, but right now, his confusion and anxiety took precedence. Glancing around, he found no trace of his clothes, phone, or any notes that could explain what had happened.

Still wishfully thinking this was some sort of not-funny-in-the-slightes prank, he would have expected to see some notes laying around describing where he was or what exactly happened. After searching for 15 minutes, he had to admit he was alone in an unknown forest, lacking proper clothing, and woken up quite hungry and thirsty.

He inhaled deeply.

A thought he had initially dismissed resurfaced: he might have been transported into a world of magic and swords, just like the stories he had read over the years. Although it sounded absurd, he gave in to the temptation and uttered the magic words: "status."

He waited in vain. No blue screen appeared, no mystical voice confirmed his transport, and no priestess emerged to aid him. His disappointment deepened as he repeated words like "information," "skills," "abilities," and "menu." It seemed he was still on Earth.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Despite the excitement of having a status, he was relieved that he didn't have to worry about dangerous creatures showing up. After all, he lived in Belgium. The vegetation appeared certainly familiar, and with such a densely structured country, how far would he realistically have to walk to find some semblance of civilization?

This way of thinking improved his mood somewhat. He considered the date, June 12th. The weather, while cold in the morning, would likely warm up. He knew he could survive a few days without food and up to three days without water. But he hadn't experienced extreme hunger or thirst and wasn't eager to find out.

He needed to make a choice. Should he search for water downhill or scout the area uphill? He decided to start with a short morning trek uphill. He didn’t know how far uphill it would be, but if he was still in Belgium, probably not very far.

After a 5-minute walk, he found two sturdy sticks that could assist him and conserve his energy. As he passed oak trees and a relatively dry forest floor, he chuckled at the idea that his childhood fascination with Bear Grylls might finally prove useful.

The uphill journey continued for 45 minutes until he reached the peak. His assumptions appeared correct. The temperature was increasing and the distance to the top wasn’t very far. After some exploring, he found a rocky outcropping that offered a decent vantage point.

Gazing around, he observed a sprawling landscape with no signs of civilization. Just a green hazy sea of trees and a patch of gray rocks. Without his glasses, only hazes of color and shapes where something he could be himself on. He guessed the shape of a river winding through the hills and mapped it mentally. With a sigh, he made his way downhill.

Minutes passed, and a sharp rock concealed beneath the leafy ground left a cut on his foot. Although small, it stung and tingled constantly. As he stopped for the fourth time to clean the wound with saliva, he noticed the absence of animal sounds. He expected to hear birds chirping, but his presence probably scared them off.

Nevertheless, he pressed on and finally heard the babbling of a small stream. His mouth had gone dry, and cold water was just what he needed. He reached the creek bed, dipped his hand into the stream, and found the water clear and inviting. Not being an idiot, he steeled his mind that he would first have to filter and boil the water to be at least safe to drink. Recalling the survival shows, those filters should consist of some charcoal and sand, after that he would have to boil the water in a container. This is where the problem set in. He didn’t have a container, no way to start a fire and thus no charcoal.

Frustration crept in.

He continued to follow the river downhill.

People always build their cities around rivers, so if he was to follow the river, he would certainly find some roads or infrastructure As he continued following the river downhill, his hunger and thirst grew. He had walked several kilometers without any remarkable discoveries. Worry began to gnaw at him.

His worry suddenly interrupted as he spotted a giant purple haze, standing in the distance before him.

Arthur was pretty sure, that Belgium didn’t have any giant purple animals running around.